By Art Spander
For RealClearSports.comNEW YORK -- What's the problem with saying you're sorry, with admitting you were wrong? To err is human, we've been told. So you make your mistake and tell everyone it was a mistake. Unless you're an athlete.
You've seen those phony statements, concocted by agents, where the individual deftly steps around the issue, never point-blank says, "I screwed up, and I'd like to say I'm sorry.''
Which is what Serena Williams should have said.
She's one of two or three best tennis female players in the world, arguably the best. But Serena embarrassed herself, embarrassed her sport during a U.S. Open semifinal.
Lost control. Lost the match. Was mad at herself and, in a expletive-filled tirade, took it out on a lineswoman who even Serena later conceded only was doing what she is paid to do.
A foot fault is a rare call in tennis. It occurs when a server touches the baseline with either foot. Despite denials that she never foot-faults, and seemingly is only guilty in New York, Serena has been called many times in her career.
When she was called in the U.S. Open semi was a problem, down a set to Kim Clijsters, losing 5-4 in the second set and 15-30 in the game. Foot fault. Suddenly it was 15-40, suddenly it was match point.
Suddenly Serena Williams, defending champion, 11-time Grand Slam winner, turned into an immature, foul-mouthed tennis brat.
She held a ball in her left hand, a racquet in her right and extending the left arm told the lineswoman, "I'm going to stuff this (bleeping) ball down your (bleeping) throat.''
In the NFL or the NBA or baseball, that threat would result in instant ejection. What it got Serena was a code warning, which, added to the warning she received for bashing her racket to the court in the first set, cost her a point. And at 15-40, that point meant game, set and match to Clijsters.
Whether a foot fault should be called at that juncture is a legitimate question, the same as whether a foul should be called in basketball in a tie game and a man driving to the basket and a second on the clock. But whether Serena disgraced herself is not a question. She did.
What she didn't do was apologize. In the post-match interview, a rather insincere Serena Williams, insisted, "I didn't threaten. I didn't say . . . I don't remember anymore. I was in the moment . . . I don't think it's necessary for me to speak about it. I've let it go. I'm trying to move on.''
So someone wondered if the lineswoman deserved an apology, and Serena, in her haughtiest voice, answered, "An apology for? From me? How many people yell at linespeople? . . .Players, athletes get frustrated. I don't know how many times I've seen that happen.''
That's no justification. Serena confided she has a temper, which is not an indictable offense. Serena confided one of her heroes was John McEnroe, notorious for his language when berating officials.
But Serena is almost 28 years old, supposedly a role model, as well as a fashion model. She's always placing a bottle of Gatorade next to the microphone during interviews to promote one of her endorsements. You think the company likes one of its stars swearing like a street punk?
Tennis is personality-driven. It is Serena Williams and Roger Federer who bring the attention. This isn't exactly inmates-running-the-asylum material, but the players have control. Even when they're out of control.
They are the lifeblood of their sport. They can get away with virtually anything.
Serena was fined $10,000, but she wasn't suspended. Having her beaten before the final of the Open was bad enough. She was the last American standing in American's championship. Not that she would have been standing even if she didn't go into her diatribe.
Clijsters, three months out of retirement, was outplaying Serena. Serena knew it. Serena was angry at herself. She took out it out on the lineswoman, of whom later Williams said, "If she called a foot fault, she must have seen a foot fault. I'm not going to knock her for doing her job.''
She didn't knock her, she trashed her. It was shameful. Then Serena had second thoughts. Then Serena was contrite. But she wouldn't apologize.
"It was a tough day,'' Williams justified. "I didn't play my best.''
Asked if she regretted losing her head, if briefly, Serena said, "I haven't really thought about it to have any regrets. I try not to live my life saying, ‘I wish, I wish.' I was out there and fought and I tried and I did my best.''
Her best was not very good. What we wish is a woman of Serena Williams' talent and reputation could say simply, "I apologize.'' We'd let it go at that.
