Kim Clijsters, who won the U.S. Open following a break of two years and three months, has nothing on Kimiko Date Krumm. The latter capped a far more improbable comeback story Sunday, just hours before her 39th birthday, by winning the Korean Open.
All right, nobody is going to confuse Seoul with New York, at least not as far as tennis is concerned. But let's remember that even at the peak of her career, when Krumm was ranked as high as No. 4, she never did bag a high-value tournament (her best effort: a Wimbledon semifinal in 1996, which she lost in three sets played over two days to the eventual champ, Steffi Graf). So Krumm's win in Seoul represents a return to her peak, productionwise. It's a remarkable achievement for a woman who took 12 years off and suddenly decided to seek a place at the high-stakes table again in April 2008.
Krumm's win helps put the comebacks of Clijster and Justine Henin into perspective, doesn't it? So what do all these resurgences suggest for the long term? Quite a bit.
WTA pros now must realize that, as Henin used to say in her signature ad campaign for Adidas, "Impossible is nothing." Indeed. What with the Williams sisters tuning in and out of the tour to no ill effect, Clijsters and Krumm breaking new ground, and Henin on the launching pad for another moonshot, the conventional logic has been shattered. WTA pros have been encouraged to make a furious, relentless effort for roughly a dozen consecutive years, after which they're free to pick up their chips and go do whatever. Suddenly, that doesn't look like the only way to go.
Clijsters' case is particularly interesting, because she had a child during her hiatus. But let's remember that even she isn't unique. Evonne Goolagong Cawley won Wimbledon in 1980, at age 29, after having her daughter, Kelly Inala. More recently, Austrian journeywoman Sybille Bammer has managed to play solidly with a child in tow. So Clijsters' feat is noteworthy mainly because of how quickly she recaptured the form that enabled her to win her second Grand Slam event (the recent U.S. Open was just her third tournament back).
Add up all comeback narratives and you can see how top women players going forward may be more vulnerable to the mid-tennis-life crisis (a la Clijsters and Henin, neither of whom ever dreamed she would come back), knowing it doesn't have to be career suicide. Or, depending on how they're feeling about the game, they might even plan a judicious midcareer break.
It isn't the worst idea. Who doesn't benefit from the occasional sabbatical? A break helps recharge the batteries and renew appetites. It may enable a player to return with a new, fresher and more mature perspective. Taking a break can open a player's eyes to the advantage of her career, not just the hardships and physical toll. And it will certainly make the eventual, inevitable transition to average-citizen status a little less daunting and uncomfortable. Does anyone doubt that Clijsters is a more worldly and well-balanced person today than she was before she quit the game back in 2007?
This approach will be especially tempting for hard-charging, successful players for two powerful reasons.
First, the best players get yoked into the panoply of professional responsibilities from a surprisingly early age (between 16 and 18). They face burdensome and sometimes deforming pressures sooner, and bear them for longer. And they have fewer opportunities to explore and enjoy life when they're in their prime.
The second reason is money. A top player is, or ought to be, set for life after a solid four or five years (at most) on the tour. With no financial pressure and a good six to eight years of hard labor under her belt, a player now knows she can afford to take a hiatus.
And thanks to Krumm, she doesn't need to be in any great hurry to get back.
Peter Bodo
