You don't have to look far to find a story of someone meeting their idol,
but coming up against them in a one-on-one challenge and walking away
the victor? It sounds more like a Greek myth than a highlight of modern
sports history. Garbiñe Muguruza, the 23-year-old Venezuelan-born,
Spanish-trained tennis player, is the real-life heroine you're looking
for. As a
first-time finalist in the 2016 French Open, she won against her own childhood idol, covering her face with her hands and crumpling to the court in sheer, unchecked astonishment after the win was made official. We talk with her about what a life-altering victory feels like, the sacrifices she's made to get there, and how there's so much more to her story than the two-hour matches the world sees."I was about three years old when I started playing in Venezuela with my two older brothers. They're 12 and 11 years older, so I was always the little one. While they were playing, I would be outside looking until I jumped onto the court, took a racket, and started playing. I couldn't be accepted into tennis school because I was too young.
I had to wait a year until I was four before they'd accept me. Tennis isn't the most popular sport in Venezuela, so we moved to Spain when I was around six. My brothers were playing pretty well, and so we all moved to an academy and started playing more professional tennis."
first-time finalist in the 2016 French Open, she won against her own childhood idol, covering her face with her hands and crumpling to the court in sheer, unchecked astonishment after the win was made official. We talk with her about what a life-altering victory feels like, the sacrifices she's made to get there, and how there's so much more to her story than the two-hour matches the world sees."I was about three years old when I started playing in Venezuela with my two older brothers. They're 12 and 11 years older, so I was always the little one. While they were playing, I would be outside looking until I jumped onto the court, took a racket, and started playing. I couldn't be accepted into tennis school because I was too young.
I had to wait a year until I was four before they'd accept me. Tennis isn't the most popular sport in Venezuela, so we moved to Spain when I was around six. My brothers were playing pretty well, and so we all moved to an academy and started playing more professional tennis."
"It's so rewarding to
succeed in what you like to do that you don't really think about what
you have to give up. When you're a teenager, all your friends are
hanging out somewhere and you have to go to practice. You have a
completely different life.
It felt like, 'I'm gonna do my stuff, and
hopefully I'll be the best at what I do and this won't matter anymore.'
"Tennis
is a very individual sport, and you have to be alone so much. You
travel with your team, but you don't have your family or your close
people with you. You have to go through rough situations on your own.
"We have to be very
careful and extremely demanding about everything we do, because if your
goal is to the best at something, you have to do everything better than
the rest of the people that are playing tennis in the entire world. You
have to be very cautious with what you eat, how you practice. Everything
you do has to be extremely good."
On understanding the monumental:
"When
you win those tournaments [like the French Open in 2016,] in those
moments you think about the process. You look back at your family—we
changed countries, changed everything just because of tennis. You
realize that you started in a very small tennis club in a South American
country where you don't think about becoming the best tennis player.
Everything we've been through to right now, holding that trophy…my
parents were so emotional because they felt like, 'Everything we've done
is worth it.' Those moments go by so quickly that you have to slow down
and enjoy it. Tennis is so fast that after it there's another
tournament and other expectations. Everything changes."
On overcoming challenges:
"About
three years ago I got injured. Injuries for an athlete are the worst
because it means you can't do anything. You just have to wait until your
body heals. That period of time was rough for me, but when I went back
to competition I was so motivated. I was hungry. I won a tournament
right away and felt so happy because I'd suffered a lot those months,
sitting on a chair and waiting. When I went back to the court I had so
much to give that everything went so well. It was incredible."
On celebrating in style:
"After
I had a good year I wanted to get something nice for myself. I wanted
to have something that would remind me of an achievement I had, this
great year. It was like, 'I know what I'm going to buy.' I was talking
with my parents—'I want this watch, I want to buy this watch.' For
Christmas we went to the shop, and I knew which one, the color,
everything. I always knew because my father has a Rolex, and my mom has a
Rolex, and when I wanted to buy my first watch, it was, 'I want a
Rolex, obviously.'"
Report credit:
No comments:
Post a Comment