O.C.’s Davenport Shows What a Champ Should Be

For Lindsay Davenport, a sweetly unassuming champion of monstrous groundstrokes and minimal ego, even on the day of her greatest triumph she was quickly made the second story. Or even the third.

Davenport, a 23-year-old who calls Newport Beach home and who prepared for this Wimbledon by playing on the private, backyard grass court of Jack Chou, a Tustin tennis fan but player of no great accomplishments, won her second Grand Slam title Sunday, beating seven-time Wimbledon champion Steffi Graf 6-4, 7-5 in front of a Centre Court crowd of subdued emotions.

When Davenport hit her final shot, a blasting serve that Graf could only return into the net with her own admirable forehand, the 6-foot-2 1/2-inch Davenport shrieked, covered her mouth and then her eyes. She was crying a little and shaking a lot, and if the crowd was only offering polite applause, this was of no importance to Davenport.

Graf, 30 years old and with nearly that many injuries to count over the last couple of years, had hoped to end a Wimbledon career, where her record in finals had been 7-2, with one last championship. But Davenport’s uncommon nervelessness and extraordinarily deep groundstrokes kept Graf off balance and without any momentum, and when the match was over, a very sad Graf announced she would not return to Wimbledon again as a player.

So suddenly, and so predictably, Davenport’s story was made a footnote. Davenport’s day to receive congratulations became Graf’s day to receive commemorations.

This is how it has always been for Davenport.

The adjective most often used to describe Davenport is “normal.” She chose to actually attend high school, Murrieta Valley, rather than take courses on the run. Pam Shriver, a former top 10 player and now a TV commentator, once said that she had never met Davenport’s parents, and that was the best thing Shriver could say about Davenport. The meaning was that Ann and Wink Davenport were not like other tennis parents, hovering around the locker rooms, standing guard in the back of interview rooms, pressuring their daughter or speaking outlandishly.

Even Sunday, as their daughter walked onto Centre Court, Davenport’s mother and one sister were in New Orleans helping to run a giant volleyball tournament. Another sister was home in California with a new baby, and Davenport’s father, a 1968 Olympic volleyball player, was in Hawaii on business. Everybody was off doing their jobs. It so happened that Lindsay’s was to win Wimbledon.

“Even though they’re not here,” Davenport said, “we’re a close family, and they mean the world to me.

“My parents raised [me] and my two sisters to where we’re smart, we’re adults, and we know what we want. You have to learn that if you make poor decisions, it’s your own problem, and that’s the only way you’re going to get through life.”

As Davenport, who was seeded No. 3, progressed through Wimbledon, even as she beat the defending champion, Jana Novotna, even as her game and her confidence improved on every point almost, no one paid her a bit of attention. More was written about Serena Williams’ decision to withdraw from Wimbledon with a case of the flu. All the world was enrapt with the saga of 18-year-old qualifier Alexandra Stevenson and her talkative mother, Samantha, as first, Samantha made a series of unusual comments about behaviors and lifestyles on the women’s tennis tour and then it was revealed that basketball star Julius Erving was Alexandra’s father.

E-mail from Newport Beach was received here from people wondering why they had not seen any of Davenport’s matches on television all week. The sad truth is that Davenport’s charm, her niceness that would seem to make her the perfect best friend, is no way to become famous.

She was even asked Sunday if she felt “cursed by being normal.”

“No,” Davenport said. “I think it’s the greatest thing to get attention for winning tournaments and for being a good person and for being normal. For me, this is the greatest. A second Grand Slam title, not too many things going bad in my life. I’m just really happy about it all.”

Hardly anybody was in the interview room listening to Davenport. They were chasing after Graf and the story of retirement or rushing back to Centre Court to watch Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi renew a rivalry in the men’s final. “I don’t care who wins this women’s match,” someone had mumbled during the women’s final, “as long as they do it fast and get Sampras and Agassi on the court.”

On their way off Centre Court, many fans were sadly recounting how much they had hoped to see one more Graf championship.

Davenport finished off her championship Sunday by teaming with Corina Morariu of Boca Raton, Fla., to win the women’s doubles title with a 6-4, 6-4 win over Mariann de Swardt and Elena Tatarkova.

On Monday, Davenport will be ranked No. 1 in the world. She plans to stop in New York for a few days and then for a brief vacation at home in Newport Beach, a place where, maybe, finally, Davenport will be noticed. Her local newspaper, The Daily Pilot, recently named Davenport the most influential person in Costa Mesa and Newport Beach. More influential than people like mega-agent Leigh Steinberg or Bob and Beverly Lewis, owners of Charismatic, the Triple Crown contender, or Donald Bren, billionaire executive of the Irvine Co.

Then it’s time to get ready to defend her U.S. Open title, the one she captured last September when she shrieked in amazement and cried in wonderment.

So there are no skeletons in this Davenport closet. The roughest time of Davenport’s life was when her parents went through a divorce three years ago. Her mom, Ann, lives with Lindsay. With her dad, Davenport said, “I am still rebuilding our relationship.” Her pain through this was private. If that is not what brings a tennis player magazine covers and TV time, Davenport doesn’t care. It will not dim her own joy and it will not make her anything other than what she is.

Wimbledon champion and top-ranked women’s tennis player in the world.