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By Alix Ramsay
There are some players, like Roger Federer, who need to feel
free in order to win; there are some, like Andy Roddick, who
need to be reined in order to achieve their potential and
there are some, like Andre Agassi, who need to be in total
control before they can begin to succeed. And then there are
some who really do not know what they want and what they need.
Sometimes they stumble upon it, unannounced and unawares,
but they do not know where it comes from or how to find it
again. That would be Jennifer Capriati.
Capriati has spent the last 14 years being good, being bad
and, from time to time, being mediocre. Each phase has taken
her by surprise and has startled her followers. She began
as the bright-eyed youngster, shooting to stardom with her
thumping groundstrokes, infectious giggle and amazing results
only to grow into the doom-laden adolescent with a rebellious
streak. Her early 20s were spent trying to recapture her playing
past while shaking off her private history and then she emerged,
blinking into the
spotlight, as the comeback queen with three grand slam trophies
to her
name. One of the older players on tour, the 27-year-old Capriati
is settling into relative middle age and still trying to fathom
the mysteries of celebrity, real life and sporting stardom.
When it comes to our heroes and heroines, we, the public,
are a picky bunch. We want our stars to be gold-plated with
huge bank balances, fantastic achievements and a celebrity
lifestyle to keep us amused. At the same time, we want them
to be ever so humble and awfully human so that we can still
regard them as one of us. Or better still, we dream that we
could become one of them. Those who dedicate too much of their
life to their sport are deemed dull, while those who risk
a little of their talent by spending too much time on life
are dubbed wastrels. Unfortunately, Capriati has tried both
and still cannot get the balance right.
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