Carrie Soto Is Back(94)

I told her I’m directing every dollar to my youth center funds. Gwen said she’d donate too.

“I mean, I can do that and still retire off this check,” Gwen told me.

I laughed and told her to go for it.

“I’m going to do it, Carrie,” she said, her voice now serious. “I’m going to tell my partners I’m retiring next year. Officially.”

“Good for you,” I told her.

Now I hand the article back to Bowe.

“So many statistics,” I say. “Good God. It is exactly what my dad said all those years ago. You just pick one randomly and decide that’s the one you’re committed to. But when you take a step back, how can you say one means more than another?”

Bowe sips his coffee and nods. “Still,” he says. “?‘Most Slams’ means something to a lot of us, let’s not kid ourselves. You are defending the one that means the most to you.”

I take a breath. “Yeah,” I say. “But it didn’t ever mean as much to my dad. My dad just wanted me to play beautiful tennis.”

Bowe smiles. “And look at that,” he says. “You do.”



* * *



—

Walking through the tunnel, I can just see the edges of the court. The crowd is already loud. The lights are on, barely brighter than the evening air. When I get to the opening, I pull my shoulders down. I roll my neck. I wipe my shoes.

I inhale sharply. I let the air leave my body like a deflating balloon. I am loose. I am ready.

There is a guard standing behind me. And then I hear footsteps.

“Nicki,” I say.

She’s wearing a white shirt and a navy blue skirt. Her Nike 130s are white with a blue Swoosh. “Carrie.”

“You feeling all right?” I say. “How’s your ankle? How’s your back? Any injuries I should exploit?”

Nicki laughs. “Unfortunately for you, I’m feeling one hundred percent.”

“Good,” I say. “The win will be sweeter.”

Nicki shakes her head. “I read an interview with you years ago, when I was still a kid,” she says. “Where you said your father called you ‘Achilles.’?”

“Yeah,” I say. “The greatest of the Greeks.”

“I was always jealous of that. That sense of destiny you seemed to have. Do you remember what Achilles said to Hector after Hector killed Patroclus?”

It has been a long time since I’ve actually read The Iliad. I shake my head.

She smiles. “He says, ‘There can be no pacts between men and lions. I will make you pay in full for the grief you have caused me.’?”





SOTO VS. CHAN


    1995 US Open


   Final


    Too many people, possibly even Nicki, believe that Nicki is new tennis. That my Carrie is old tennis. They don’t realize I taught Carrie to play any tennis. So Carrie should start wild and powerful, start with a splash. Make it clear, from the beginning, that whatever version of Carrie Nicki prepared for, she didn’t prepare for this.



I win the toss and elect to serve first.

Nicki’s forehand is brutal, so everyone serves to her backhand. Not me. My first serve is low, short, fast, and wide to her forehand. She has to scramble to meet the ball. She returns it just past the net. I chip it back. She doesn’t get under it in time. 15–love.

Nicki looks at me and nods calmly.

I hold the first game.



* * *



—

Her first serve comes at me like it was shot from a gun—exactly as I knew it would. I return it right to her backhand. She returns it deep. I send it back with a drive volley, pulling her up closer to the net.

    Nicki succeeds by getting people to play her type of tennis. Carrie can meet her at that level, but Nicki cannot meet Carrie at hers. Carrie should lure Nicki into Carrie’s kind of tennis—the kind of tennis where a centimeter matters. I believe the best Carrie will beat the best Nicki. And that means GET HER TO THE NET.



Nicki runs up to meet my shot and makes it just in time. But her return is too long. The first point in her service game is mine. Love–15.

Still, she holds the game.



* * *



—

We each hold our games—neither able to break the other. 1–1 becomes 2–2. 2–2 becomes 3–3, 4–4, 5–5.



* * *



—

At 6–6, we move to a tiebreaker.

Nicki clobbers me with her serves. On my serves, she hammers her returns. The tiebreak quickly gets to 0–4, Nicki’s favor. I have to adjust.

I try cutting off the pace of the ball, hitting slices, stopping her short. It works quickly, and I am unyielding until she gets the hang of it.

Now we’re 4–4.

5–5.

6–6 in the tiebreaker.

The crowd is beginning to rumble.

Nicki hits a winner past me, bringing her to 6–7. But she’s got to win by two.

It’s my serve, and I send a fast shot right at her heels. She misses it. 7–7.

Minutes later, Nicki is up 12–11. It’s her serve.