Hype or high?
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Though Sania Mirza's emergence as a tennis icon is laudable for women's sport in the country, the prevailing atmosphere of hyperbole can be attributed, in part, to the media, says VIJAY PARTHASARATHY.
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PTI
Moment of glory ... Sania Mirza has eclipsed Sourav and his men.
THESE days it appears Sania Mirza has the power to be everywhere at once. She's in the papers, letting us inside her head if only for a second — she dreams of finishing in the top 50 by the end of the year — and then, in another story we are informed tartly she prefers to focus on the next match. And here she is again, on our television screen, expounding on the unique selling proposition behind a brand of bicycles; or talking about women's tennis in clipped sound bytes. She's out there and she's all image, supremely confident and unapologetically in your face.
A transformation
But not so long ago, when Sania emerged that evening in Melbourne to play Serena Williams, she seemed an entirely different person. She seemed overwhelmed by a sense of occasion. Understandably she was tense; prior to the match she spoke in disclaimer clauses, of wanting to know how hard her opponent could hit the ball. She looked dazed for the first half-hour of play, in the space of which her celebrity opponent waltzed through the opening set. Sania appeared subdued, as out of place as a hillbilly in Hollywood.
Then ambition kicked into overdrive; the moment came when she discovered her range while we, in turn, discovered her. She managed to put up some resistance — nothing as remarkable as a fight-back, but impressive nonetheless — and predictably, we swooned. The calibre of her third-round opponent lent polish to an already absorbing story; the fact that Sania lost to the eventual champion nudged the fairy-tale into the domain of myth.
Sania has since made the transition in her homeland, from street-theatre performer to soap-opera diva, with impertinent ease. After winning the Hyderabad Open in her hometown, the teenager has become the first Indian to win a WTA Tour event, the first to break into the elite top 100 of women's tennis.
Contrived fame?
Even so, her sudden ascent to stardom is a little startling, certainly premature. Her fame seems contrived. While her achievements are by no means insignificant — especially when applying Indian standards — they don't qualify as world-class. To compound matters, we are arrogant enough to ignore the legacy of greater sportsmen like Viswanathan Anand and Rajyavardhan Rathore merely because chess and double-trap shooting aren't as glibly marketed as cricket or tennis. Besides, Sania is perfectly capable of getting there soon enough, which is what makes the lack of perspective distinctly ludicrous — what if next, she were to make, say, the fourth round of the French Open?
The media's role
The prevailing atmosphere of hyperbole can be attributed, in part, to the media having appointed itself to the position of sole intermediate interface, through which all news of the country's latest obsession filters. Television is, of course, the preferred mode of information dissemination. Consequently, Sania has been compressed into a two-dimensional image format and anything she has to say is converted into digital data, to be edited later and incorporated as racy, 15-second sound clips. Meanwhile, the proliferation of satellite television these past few years has now resulted in channels constantly pushing each other to extend the definition of bizarre, so far as the hype goes. Remarkably, over-exposure doesn't appear to be a concern — as things stand there isn't the slightest desire to conserve her quotes for later.
A performer
Barely two months ago, Sania might have stepped outside to practise on her forehand in the most public of spaces, and nobody would have stopped to observe. (It makes you cringe; the luxury of the thought.) Just now though, she can't avoid getting mobbed by effusive guests at posh parties of the strict dress-code variety; merely thinking about crowd response could therefore cause her security planner to suffer a nervous breakdown.
That is not to say Sania fits awkwardly in her role as Ms. I-Can-Be-Anything-You-Please — if anything, she is decidedly flamboyant as the charismatic and trendy nose-ring sporting, tennis playing youth icon. On court Sania demands support, she craves encouragement. She appears almost distracted when the crowd goes quiet — she fidgets around, her mannerisms seem more pronounced, and she looks up towards the stands every few seconds as if silently inviting them to crank up the volume. Indeed, so far she has appeared to perform better with the noise trilling in her ears. Two weeks ago in Hyderabad, the manner in which she dropped to her knees on championship point seemed theatrical; when it proved to be something of a false alarm, merely amusing. The 18-year-old clearly loves playing up to the audience, as a performer she consistently hungers for attention.
Off court, she has begun to pay the price of fame. Already, she is in need of bodyguards to protect her from the all-too-real threat of stalkers. The invisible barrier that springs deftly in-between like a secret service agent in a spy novel to separate the elite from the bourgeoisie is already in place.
Nevertheless it isn't Sania's fault, if she is beginning to appear more a caricature than a serious tennis player. The blame lies mainly with a section of the media and the cynical manner in which women's sport is promoted.
True, Sania's emergence as a tennis icon is a wonderful thing for women's sport in the country — for one, it has temporarily drawn attention away from cricket. Except, unfortunately, that wasn't the primary motive behind hijacking the spotlight, as it were. Had that been the case, the fact that Sania is easily the most gifted tennis player in India would have sufficed. But no; instead, there is the patronising attempt to bolster talent with image. Evidently, a conglomerate of coldly logical business minds is at work here; one that wouldn't hesitate to pull the carpet from under Sania's feet if her results show signs of dipping.
Which is why, it would be churlish to grudge Sania the opportunity to make hay while the sun shines. (You pray she isn't asthmatic. For the present, Sania cannot sneeze without having the indignity of the moment recorded and broadcast as evidence of her carrying a potentially career-threatening virus.)
Yet for the sake of future athletes in India, Sania must challenge herself constantly; improve little by little as the weeks pass. She must surpass herself regularly in tournament play and understand that perfection is the only ideal worth aspiring to, even if it is, in some ways, as transient as fame.
She must find her way to greatness not because of the propaganda, but in spite of it.
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