She's back ~ L. Hamilton

6.| The Start

January 18, 1997

By the time I was twenty, I had four slam titles. Two were at Wimbledon, two were at the Australia open and one was the US open. I'd beaten Shay Holmes in the final of the Australian open in a nearly three hour battle, one of the longest and most watched female tennis games of all time. It was the sixty eight most watched tennis game of all time, it may not sound like a lot, however, it was the only women's game in the top one hundred most watched tennis games.

Our rivalry dominated the female sports pages.

Ricciardo Vs Holmes gets ugly in London

Ricciardo Vs Holmes continues on the court

Ricciardo Vs Holmes gets heated as the two are photographed arguing in hotel bar

And yet at the end of the year rankings, she still took the top spot.

The rivalry became so popular and made such good television that it made my uncle famous too. The cameras loved the handsome Marco Ricciardo. The female sports papers all printed photos of Marco 'the panther' Ricciardo sitting proudly in the players box. One of them was captioned 'the man who taught Delaney Ricciardo everything she knows'

In 1998, he released a book 'beautiful fundamentals', it quickly hit the bestseller lists and became a popular introduction to tennis.

People loved him, and he loved them. He seamed satisfied with what we had done together, what we'd accomplished. His dreams had been fulfilled.

Mine had not.

"I should be number one" I said to him as we ate lunch at a tennis club in Italy. I'd just beaten Holmes in the final. "At this point I've earned it"

"Let's enjoy our food please" my uncle said

"I want to hold the record for the most grand slams for any player ever" I said, my voice rising "and I can't do that until I destroy her every time we play"

"Laney" my uncle said, a gentle warning

He was always so insistent that I never make a scene on or off the court, and I did my best, and as a result the sportscasters have started calling me 'stiff' and 'robotic'

I've seen more than a few segments in the papers about how 'Delaney Ricciardo acts more like a machine than a women' or 'Delaney Ricciardo never enjoys her wins'

Other players on the tour would mention in interviews that I wasn't very friendly. As if I was supposed to befriend the same women I was destroying week after week.

I would read tabloids in airports while I waited for my flight and whenever my name was mentioned there would always be some stupid joke about how I never smiled.

I can't tell you the amount of times I flipped through a magazine only to come across someone trashing me in print.

No matter how good I was on the court, I was never ever good enough for the public.

It wasn't enough to play perfect tennis. I had to do that and also he charming. And that charm had to appear effortless.

I couldn't seem to be trying to get them to like me. I could not let anyone ever suspect that I might want their approval. I saw the way they wrote about players like Rory McLeod. The way they had hated on her for trying too hard to be cute. I may have joined in on the hate.