How Australia warmed to Lleyton Hewitt

In sports, waiting for the ‘fat lady’ to start singing is a euphemism for ending the slow torturous death of some pathetic creature that hasn’t had the good grace or self-reflection to know when to give up.

For Lleyton Hewitt, this thankfully is not the case. There is no sound of cats being strangled on the soundtrack to this enduring tennis career, which has ran the gauntlet from brash little tennis brat to Australian tennis hero.

His public persona, among Australian fans at least, has undergone a marvellous turnaround over the last 15 years and is worthy of celebration and reflection. In some ways, it also reflects the development of Australia’s tennis identity.

Australian tennis has a long and proud tradition. Here it has always been a genteel sort of a game. Kooyong Tennis Club, the ‘spiritual home of Australian tennis’, where the Australian Open was played once upon a time, is nestled in Melbourne’s wealthy inner Eastern suburbs. In this part of the world the median house price is a cool $2 million plus, for anyone with that sort of cash.

Nestled neatly into this bygone era of cucumber sandwiches are the commanding figures of former Australian tennis champions such as Ken Rosewall, Rod Laver, Roy Emerson and Margaret Court, who held the flag for the women’s game. There are few Australian fans today that have ever seen these giants of tennis play, but the legacy they have left still casts a long shadow today.

This is the often romanticised era of pre-globalisation and pre-corporatisation of sports. The mythology of Australian tennis greats playing the genteel game of tennis has been neatly cushioned with a certain dignified decorum attributed to the sport.

This is the prism with which we have been raised in Australia to evaluate our tennis stars. Sure, Pat Cash with his black and white checked headband and bad boy attitude stirred things up a little. But that was in the 80s.

It was the time of big hair, big clothes, big bank accounts and bigger egos. Quite frankly being a cocky little prat was part and parcel of 80s culture. Just watch Wall Street.

In the 90s Mark Philippoussis may have tried filling Cash’s shoes, but it was the lovely boy from Queensland, Patrick Rafter, who reinvigorated old school nostalgia for the gentlemanly game.

Rafter had that rare ability to be someone that could make you proud to be an Australian. I was an expat for a good chunk of his career and this was a popular assessment of him for many of us who at that time felt the calling of distant shores.

And then along came Lleyton.

Australia is not a young country. This grand island is one of the world’s oldest land formations. Proudly, or at least we should be, we are also the home to the longest continual civilisation. Spanning at least 40,000 years, the rest of the world has a long way to go to match our Indigenous heritage.

But, on the other hand, we live in a Eurocentric world where Australia is considered a young nation, in terms of European settlement, at least. As such, you’d think we’d like young people and young things.

But we don’t.

And a young blond haired, blue-eyed whipper snapper yelling, ‘C’mon’ and making an inverted duck beak with his fist was not the most welcomed sight among Australian tennis fans in the late 90s.

What we wanted was another Rafter. Couldn’t we just clone the man, for Pete’s sake?

But it is only by looking back over the last 18 years it is clear to see that Hewitt has given us a remarkable career. And the wonderful thing about him is that he hasn’t changed over the course of it. It is Australian fans that have finally learnt to appreciate his skill, his tenacity and his love and commitment to what he does.

Has Lleyton Hewitt grown on us or is it that the Australian tennis public has grown into him? I suspect the latter is closer to the mark. Over the course of his career, Hewitt has morphed from an uncomfortable pair of rubber flip-flops, sand rubbing against delicate skin included, to become the comfiest pair of slippers we own.

Time is a wonderful and marvellous thing and it is with time that we’ve come to understand and love Rusty. It is through all of his faults, all of his efforts and all of his undying, unwavering commitment to Australian tennis that we have simply come to understand him.

What may once have been criticised for youthful exuberance was actually a young man playing with all of his heart and soul. This misreading of his style perhaps led us to believe he was going to be little more than a flash in the tennis pan.

How wrong we were.

Hewitt’s long career is like his playing style. If a match can be won in three sets, he’ll win it in a thrilling five, because why take the short route?

If the chips are down in the Davis Cup, he’ll be there to lead from the front. This year’s tie against Kazakhstan in Darwin is testament to that. Not to mention his outstanding Davis Cup record.

He’s played 41 ties with a singles win/loss of 42/14. His doubles win/loss is just as telling at 16/6 for a total win/loss of 58/20. He’s played more Davis Cup ties than any other Australian and he’s won the most singles matches of any Australian.

It is his commitment to Davis Cup and to playing for Australia that will perhaps be his greatest legacy. This commitment also harks back to the ‘Golden Age’ of Australian tennis.

Hewitt began his career as a much-derided, brash young man. His over exuberance gradually became accepted as part of his fighting spirit and has been the base of his long and much admired career.

He has finished playing competitive tennis on his own terms, which is a further feather in his cap. With his new appointment as Davis Cup captain we can only hope for many more years of tennis service to the nation.