Flap Over Seles Overly Inflated

I’m going to be contrary again.

I’m going to wonder about all the fuss surrounding Monica Seles’ withdrawal from Wimbledon. She did not stay away because she said tea and crumpets made her gag or she couldn’t stand the thought of a curtsy before the royal box or anything stupid like that.

Her crime, if it was a crime, was that she stayed away. And she did not simply not show up. She made it known that she would not be there.

So what was the big deal?

Did she have to have a leg or an arm in a cast? Did she have to be in an iron lung? Would it have been better if she had been kidnapped by terrorists?

And what if she did not really have an excuse? What if she just didn’t feel like playing? What if she didn’t want to put up with the London tabloids? What if she didn’t care for strawberries and cream? What if she couldn’t tolerate another interview with Bud Collins?

This was not exactly Joe Montana disappearing before a Super Bowl or Jose Canseco disappearing before a World Series or Michael Jordan disappearing before the NBA finals.

Tennis is not a team sport, but rather an individual sport. Monica Seles did not let anyone down. Wimbledon surely survived without her, and all the gossip probably made for a livelier fortnight.

Where, oh where, was Mysterious Monica?

Hurt.

No one chose to believe that she was really suffering from shin splints and a stress facture. These, people said, were the announced reasons for her absence. This is a little like saying the announced crowd at an athletic event was maybe 10,000, when everyone knew it was wrong. I choose to believe when folks say they are hurt.

What’s more, exactly who did Monica hurt by missing Wimbledon?

Herself.

She had a chance to add yet another Grand Slam title to her 1991 collection, which already included the Australian and French opens, and add to her $2,838,841 in career earnings, which is not bad for a girl who will turn 18 on Dec. 2.

Seles’ whereabouts this week is hardly a secret. She can be found at the Mazda Tennis Classic at the La Costa Resort and Spa. This is her first Women’s Tennis Assn. tournament since she spent Wimbledon a) sunbathing at Donald Trump’s pad in Florida, b) collecting pine cones in Aspen or c) counting her money in Zurich.

Having arrived at La Costa, she might actually be wondering if she has stumbled on Wimbledon West by mistake. The weather has been just like she would have remembered it if she had been there. This would be an excellent place for the sun to shine.

The rain stayed away for her match Thursday against Anne Minter, but Seles sure played up a storm at her end of the court. Seles plays the game like a tornado, sweeping up everything in her path. She returned everything Minter hit that landed somewhere within the Carlsbad city limits, which seem to run southeast from the ocean and stop just short of Julian.

Indeed, Seles plays like she is mad at the ball. She plays like the ball is a hand grenade she just wants to get out of there as fast and as hard as she can. It doesn’t really matter that there is someone on the other side of the net.

The first set started at 12:12 and took 22 minutes. The score was 6-0. If she had a reservations for lunch at 1 o’clock, she would be there. A shower might not be necessary.

Grunt. Whap. Grunt. Whap. Grunt. Whap.

“In magazines, they put these very emotional pictures,” she said. “Like I’m going to war. Those kinds of faces.”

Grunt. Whap.

“In a lot of my matches I don’t grunt,” she said, “but I’m so competitive and it comes back. I’m trying to get rid of it.”

Don’t sweat it, kid. Everyone needs a gimmick. You’re already endorsing racquets and clothes and shoes, why not go for throat lozenges?

Monica Seles is a very intense player, a very emotional player. Up 1-0 in the second set, she pleaded her case on a questionable line call that seemed (and was) inconsequential. The decision was reversed, and she won the game.

In the aftermath, she talked of all the areas in which her game could be improved.

“I’m looking forward to the day,” she said, “when I can serve and volley and have better ground strokes and,” laughing, “not miss any balls.”

Remember now that this is a 17-year-old who already is ranked No. 1 in the world.

This is not the type of person who would want to go to Wimbledon with less than her best. That’s what she thought she had at that time.

So all that controversy was a little ridiculous.

This, of course, is contrary to how most others seem to feel. However, you have to remember that I’m the guy who said the Chargers have their best chance for success with Billy Joe Tolliver at quarterback and that all of the fuss over Greg Riddoch’s job status is misdirected. You’re probably thinking I like rainy days in August, too.