When I was in my early twenties, I traveled to London to meet my mother's side of the family. It happened to be June, and the Wimbledon tennis tournament was in progress. My relatives didn't care anything about it, but since it was on television every day, I watched. That year Evonne Goolagong defeated number one seed Margaret Court to win the title.

I had never seen anyone like the naturally graceful Goolagong, a poor child of an Aborigine sheep shearer. A local man caught the young Goolagong peeking through the fence at a tennis court and encouraged her to try the game. At thirteen, she left the bush country of New South Wales, Australia to live with Coach Vic Edwards and his family in Sydney. Before her adolescence ended, Goolagong won the French Open and defeated her idol, Court, at Wimbledon.

"Tennis" by Shirley Harshenin

As the second wave of the Women's Movement began, Billie Jean King led the campaign to form the Women's Tennis Association, and demanded equal prize money for women. She was successful, and became not only a tennis hero but also a feminist icon.

For two years in the 1980s, the Virginia Slims tour came to New Orleans, where I lived. Both times, I got tickets for everything from the quarterfinals on, and I saw Chris Evert, Hana Mandlikova, Helena Sukova, Zena Garrison, and the great Martina Navratilova up close. Unfortunately, there were not enough fans in New Orleans to merit a return after the second year.

I am still a die-hard women's tennis freak. I am also a fan of men's tennis, but my heart is with the WTA. I thrill over the great rivalries: Goolagong and Evert, Evert and Navratilova, Graf and Seles—and I occasionally buy videos of great matches. Like many other fans, I think Graf is the tennis wonder of all time, and I never tire of watching her old matches.

It saddens me when one of the greats retires, but I grieve most for the stars whose careers are cut short by misfortune: Tracy Austin, who suffered sciatic nerve damage; the brilliant Seles—still an official member of the tour—who never was the same after a deranged fan of Graf's stabbed her; and tennis genius Martina Hingis, whose incurable foot injuries took her out of competition at the age of twenty-two.

During the early '90s, I backed away from my fan involvement with professional tennis, though I later regretted it. Then I watched every tournament I could to catch up. I developed new favorites—Lindsay Davenport, Jennifer Capriati, Jana Novotna, and, of course, Martina Hingis. Then along came the wonderful Williams sisters, who changed the game, much as Navratilova had in the '80s. Whereas Navratilova introduced fitness to the game, Venus and Serena took it a step further and introduced raw power.

I find it hard to explain what it is about women's tennis that excites me so. I never have played the game, and am repelled by the country club aura associated with it. Perhaps the combination of grace, athleticism, and savvy attracts me. Artistic players like French star Amelie Mauresmo are a pleasure to watch, as are agile players like Belgium's Kim Clijsters and Justine Henin-Hardenne, and wickedly clever competitors like Hingis. I love Davenport for her strong and pinpoint-accurate forehand and Henin-Hardenne for her powerful backhand. The champion attitudes of players like Serena Williams, Henin-Hardenne, and Maria Sharapova enliven me, and the courage of Capriati, whose comeback has gone down as one of the great stories in sports, moves me.

I don’t think of myself as the sports fan type, though. I don't care about football or basketball, and I spend a lot of time complaining about the horrible behavior of many so-called sports heroes. But when I see someone slip out of the room of a social function to sneak a look at a televised football game, I understand. You can't pull me away from a Grand Slam tournament, no matter what you offer me or threaten me with, and it would take a lot to get me away from a WTA tournament. When a match isn't televised (and most of the best matches aren't because the networks insist on showing only the big stars), I follow live scoring via the Internet.

Currently, I am emotionally involved in the tennis-world saga over the end of Lindsay Davenport's career. She planned to retire at the end of 2004 but then didn’t, because she had an amazing hard court season during the summer. Despite her big game, Davenport is known for going negative if she makes an error. My other favorite players are Clijsters and Mauresmo, both notorious chokers who have yet to win a Grand Slam despite possessing tremendous talent. If any of them wins a slam this year, my loyalty will be all the sweeter.

In April, I am going to the second half of the Family Circle Cup in Daniel Island, near Charleston, South Carolina. This is a Tier I tournament with a lot of style. If you watch the tournament on television, you may see me in the stands. I'll be the one applauding enthusiastically for all of the players, but whose loudest cheering will be reserved for Lindsay Davenport, as she plays what is probably her farewell tour.

BIO: DIANE E. DEES, a psychotherapist and writer in Covington, Louisiana, is a regular contributor to Moondance. Her short stories, creative nonfiction, poetry and political commentary have appeared in many publications. Diane and her husband, Orvin Tobiason, are the webmasters of princesscafe.com, the world’s only virtual rock and roll restaurant. You can read her blog at dedspace.blogspot.com.

Contact Diane at: dianedees@charter.net