Last week,at the Australian Open,Amanda Anisimova progressed through much of her second-round match against kateřina Siniaková,displaying her superior power and accuracy. Few players hit the ball as hard and flat, or with as much precision, as Anisimova does, and no one has a sweeter or more vicious backhand. To watch her line up, wind up, and sweep her racquet along the arc created by her powerful rotation—her legs perfectly weighted, her spacing properly calculated, her contact point pure—is to realize the full potential of the shot. She won the first set easily, 6–1, and was up a service break in the second; then her control of the match started to slip away. Siniaková, the No. 1 doubles player in the world, started to disrupt the rhythm, and Anisimova’s serve began to stray.Two endless exchanges of deuces ended in Siniaková’s favor. Anisimova pressed. After a backhand flew long, her hands flew to her hips in frustration. anisimova won the third consecutive deuce game, but double-faulted twice. The players were on serve, an even 4–4, but tennis is as much a psychological game as a physical one, and Siniaková had the advantage. Anisimova appeared to be on the edge of breaking down.
She exchanged a word with her team. Then, noticeably calmer, she quickly closed out the win.Afterward, she was asked about the stretch of back-and-forth games. “That’s what I love about the sport is those really intense moments,” she said. “I really enjoy it,” she added. Perhaps there was a bit of revisionism, or masochism, in her answer. But I was inclined to believe her. What was the worst that could have happened, after all? She might lose a tennis match?
Anisimova knows what it’s like to lose tennis matches. She knows what it’s like to be humiliated on the court—on the biggest stage, with the most people watching. Wimbledon, Center Court, a princess sitting next to Billie Jean King in the royal box, champagne in the stands and flowers everywhere adorning the grounds. it’s the stuff of dreams—and, last July,
