More epic quotiness
Mar. 31st, 2009 11:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meteordustAgain from The Rivals: Chris Evert versus Martina Navratilova by Johnette Howard.
On playing doubles:
Evert, by now the world's number one player, asked Navratilova to be her doubles partner. Navratilova was flattered and said yes. They were young, traveling the world, and trying to figure out who they were.
[...]
Navratilova and Evert went on to win the 1976 Wimbledon doubles title together. But a little over a month later, Evert scratched from playing doubles with Navratilova at the US Open, citing tendonitis in her right hand. Navratilova was upset to find this news out by reading it in the newspaper. Before long, she and Chris weren't playing doubles together at all.
"I couldn't handle it," Evert admits. "Martina was getting better. Martina was a threat. With all the practice we were doing together, I felt she was getting a little too good of a read on my game."
[...]
Navratilova never denied that she hated to be alone or that she was at her happiest when she had someone to share her victories with. She once told a young girl during a question-and-answer session at a tennis clinic that the reason she loved playing doubles was that after a doubles match "you always have someone to hug."
After the 1984 Wimbledon final:
Navratilova spoke sentimentally about how her twelfth straight win over Evert had evened their eleven-year-old rivalry, in which she had once trailed 5-20. Now their record stood at thirty matches apiece.
"Can you imagine, thirty to thirty?" Navratilova said. "I wish we could quit right now and never play each other again, because it's not right for one of us to say we're better."
"Does that mean she's going to retire?" Evert joked.
After the 1985 Australian Open final:
Navratilova found Evert especially heartbroken in the locker room after defeating her in the final because the 1985 year-end number one ranking had been attainable as well. The tension crackling through the match had been so great, Navratilova--upon seeing Evert--broke down crying too.
What a pair they made.
"I know how you feel, so I can't enjoy this," Martina said, wiping away tears.
"Don't worry about me," Evert sniffled, blowing her nose.
On their legacy:
Like Billie Jean King, Evert and Navratilova are originals. But to say that is too benign. The impact they had was revolutionary. Among the many things their sixteen-year rivalry illuminated was how women's sports are not just spinoffs of the games that men have been playing forever. Women's sports are distinct provinces unto themselves, with an ethos and a culture all their own. Evert and Navratilova helped shape that culture at a time when women's roles and rights were being redefined. They inherited one world and helped mold a new one.
On playing doubles:
Evert, by now the world's number one player, asked Navratilova to be her doubles partner. Navratilova was flattered and said yes. They were young, traveling the world, and trying to figure out who they were.
[...]
Navratilova and Evert went on to win the 1976 Wimbledon doubles title together. But a little over a month later, Evert scratched from playing doubles with Navratilova at the US Open, citing tendonitis in her right hand. Navratilova was upset to find this news out by reading it in the newspaper. Before long, she and Chris weren't playing doubles together at all.
"I couldn't handle it," Evert admits. "Martina was getting better. Martina was a threat. With all the practice we were doing together, I felt she was getting a little too good of a read on my game."
[...]
Navratilova never denied that she hated to be alone or that she was at her happiest when she had someone to share her victories with. She once told a young girl during a question-and-answer session at a tennis clinic that the reason she loved playing doubles was that after a doubles match "you always have someone to hug."
After the 1984 Wimbledon final:
Navratilova spoke sentimentally about how her twelfth straight win over Evert had evened their eleven-year-old rivalry, in which she had once trailed 5-20. Now their record stood at thirty matches apiece.
"Can you imagine, thirty to thirty?" Navratilova said. "I wish we could quit right now and never play each other again, because it's not right for one of us to say we're better."
"Does that mean she's going to retire?" Evert joked.
After the 1985 Australian Open final:
Navratilova found Evert especially heartbroken in the locker room after defeating her in the final because the 1985 year-end number one ranking had been attainable as well. The tension crackling through the match had been so great, Navratilova--upon seeing Evert--broke down crying too.
What a pair they made.
"I know how you feel, so I can't enjoy this," Martina said, wiping away tears.
"Don't worry about me," Evert sniffled, blowing her nose.
On their legacy:
Like Billie Jean King, Evert and Navratilova are originals. But to say that is too benign. The impact they had was revolutionary. Among the many things their sixteen-year rivalry illuminated was how women's sports are not just spinoffs of the games that men have been playing forever. Women's sports are distinct provinces unto themselves, with an ethos and a culture all their own. Evert and Navratilova helped shape that culture at a time when women's roles and rights were being redefined. They inherited one world and helped mold a new one.
