Winners Are From Venus

The champion raised her arms. She jumped up and down. She twirled around. She did everything but yell, “Compton’s in the house!”

In case it wasn’t evident before, Wimbledon was going to be a little different this year.

Different is good, like the occasional sunny day in a British summer.

Different, in this case, was Venus Williams winning the women’s singles title at the All England Club.

It was the first Wimbledon championship by an African-American since Althea Gibson won her second consecutive title in 1958, and it was party time.

Williams bounded across the court after Lindsay Davenport’s forehand volley caught the net to end the match. She ran into the stands, into the crowd and up the steps to the player’s box, where she hugged her sister Serena and watched as her father, Richard, joyously jumped up and down on the roof of a TV broadcast booth.

The celebration, to be honest, was more entertaining than the error-filled match.

Even the Duchess of Kent caught the spirit during her traditional presentation of the trophies.

When Venus approached her, Her Royal Highness burst into applause, then the two clasped hands.

The Duchess laughed as Williams jumped with the trophy (called, appropriately, the Venus Rosewater Dish) held high over her head.

“I can’t hold back in life,” Williams said during an on-court interview. “This is just the way I am, my personality.”

Guess you could say it’s a James Brown thing. Say it loud: I’m black and I’m proud.

As breakthroughs go, it was more of a personal triumph; Gibson crossed the color line 43 years ago. But Williams had a personal destiny to fulfill: to win the Grand Slam championship she had trained for virtually all her life, to achieve the success her father had so boldly predicted for her.

“You can never fault anyone for feeling elation or feeling whatever goes through your mind when you win the first,” said Davenport, the defending champion whose attitude after her 6-3, 7-6 (3) defeat was much better than her performance during the match. “I mean, every other sport, it’s fine.”

As you know, tennis isn’t like every other sport. African-Americans haven’t had nearly the widespread impact as they have in football, basketball, baseball. The gap between Gibson’s and Williams’ victories underscores that point--and in some ways makes Gibson’s achievement (pre-Civil Rights movement, no less) even more remarkable.

“It had to be hard, because people were unable to see past color,” Williams said. “Still, these days, it’s hardly any different because you realize it’s only been 40 years. How can you change years and centuries of being biased in 40 years? So, realistically, not too much has changed.

“But I really appreciate how hard it was. You realize not everyone wants you to win, not everyone’s going to support you. And that’s OK.”

The Williams sisters have cultivated a fan base of all colors because of their exciting style of play, and that includes the support of the African-American community, some of whom normally wouldn’t give a double-fault about tennis.

“We’re really aware of that,” Venus said. “We know the black people are really top supporters. When you go to Germany, the Germans support the Germans. We really relate to each other, of course. We’re black. We fought for everything we have.”

The thing is, little kids from Compton could tune in Saturday morning and see someone who was just like them--and sometimes that’s what it takes for people to venture into a sport that most of their friends don’t play.

It’s telling that Venus said the first time Wimbledon mattered to her was 1990, when Zina Garrison lost the deciding match to Martina Navratilova. Until Saturday, it was the last time an African-American woman had reached the finals.

The Williams sisters would get updates on Garrison’s progress while they were out on the practice courts.

A decade later--even in the Internet age--it’s not hard to imagine people asking “How’s Venus doing?” as they passed each other this weekend.

“More than anything, it’s just awareness,” said Garrison, who watched the finals from the player’s box. “I mean, like Tiger [Woods] brought awareness to the game [of golf]. It’s just the awareness. One thing, it was great that Serena won the U.S. Open, made more awareness, but this is the biggest tournament in the world. People pay more notice to this. It’s like the Super Bowl of our sport.”

For all of the talk of the Williamses’ athleticism, it was the growth of the mental aspect of Venus’ game that allowed her to win the championship. She hung in there against a resilient Martina Hingis in the quarterfinals, prevailed against her sister in a psychological swamp in the semifinals, and deftly mixed in a few drop shots against Davenport to score some key points in the final.

“The fact is, they work so hard for what they got,” Garrison said. “Sometimes it irritates me to hear about the way they play, or ‘They’re so powerful,’ and everybody forgets about how hard they have to work to get where they are. Nobody gets anywhere without any work.”

The work is still in the early stages. To truly fulfill their potential, the Williams sisters must win more consistently and climb to the top of the rankings. (Venus will move to third and Serena to seventh after Wimbledon). And they have to do their part to continue the legacy passed from Gibson to Garrison to them.

“You have to get out there and help out, let people see you start programs,” Venus Williams said. “That would definitely be something that I and especially my dad could help to start.

“Because, sure, things can happen. But you’ve got to put your hands on the ball and get it moving.”

It started moving Saturday, with every bounce, jump, spin and wave of an excited young woman on Centre Court.

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J.A. Adande can be reached at his e-mail address: j.a.adande@latimes.com.