Samtastic!

by Pete Bodo

NEW YORK—It's been a quarter of a century since an Australian woman (Evonne Goolagong) last won the U.S. Open, but Sam Stosur, the 27-year old who shocked and hornswaggled Serena Williams on Arthur Ashe stadium today, 6-2, 6-3, is a lot more like the "true-blue Aussies" of yore than the WTA idols of today—right down to the make-up free cheeks, the laconic genius for understatement, the sporty shift that couldn't be mistaken for anything but a tennis dress, and the ability to whack warp-speed forehands and vicious, high-kicking serves without guttering a single, melodramatic shriek or grunt.

As Stosur said after her tightly controlled, anxiety-free win over perhaps the most dangerous female player of all time, "I don't really know what to say."

Neither did Serena.

Neither did we.

Nobody expected that Sam Stosur, known for so long as a defective competitor with a game that fluctuated freely and unpredictably between brilliant and pedestrian (and decidedly skewed toward the latter at major events) would show the kind of skill and composure she displayed today from the very start under flat gray skies heavy with the threat of precipitation.

As it turned out, the only real storm we experienced came in the form of all those Stosur forehands that rained down on Serena from the very start. That Stosur finished as strong as she started was the major surprise of the match. After all, she had appeared in only two Grand Slam finals (she lost the French Open title to Francesca Schiavone in 2010) while Serena was playing in her 17th.

As Serena said afterward, "She played really, really, well. . . But that's what you have to do. When you're in the final of a Grand Slam you have to do that. I thought, Okay, at some point you [Stosur] could level out . . . Because I know sometimes it happens. But I've played a couple of Grand Slam finals where I never leveled out, so I definitely thought about it."

Stosur seemed equally stunned by the level she brought to the match and kept up through 73 glorious minutes: "It's obviously hard to compare today to any other match. I've played matches where I feel like I played lights out, can't miss a ball, and, you know, it's fantastic. . . But to do it under these circumstances, in this kind of final against a player like Serena, for sure I'm gonna think it's one of the best days of my career."

The outstanding statistics generated by a match in which both women swung freely and seemed bent on ending points without dilly-dallying concerned the serve. Stosur dished out 12 unreturned serves, while the usually formidable server Williams hit just 11. Stosur won 22 of the 30 first serves she put into play; Williams won just 18 of 29. And most significant: on a day when Williams's first-serve conversion was a mediocre 52 percent (37 percent in the first set) and Stosur's was a solid 65 percent, Stosur put 80 percent of her returns into play (43 of 54). That represents a stinging one-two punch, and Stosur pointed to it as the key to her win.

"I think me being able to go after her second serve . . .obviously she's got a huge first serve. If she's not quite on her game, you get slight chances there on her second. Today I was able to step in and hit my favorite shot (the forehand) nearly off every single second serve and really put her under pressure every time she missed a first serve. I think that was big. Maybe that made her feel a little more pressure to start making more first serves—and then it's a little more difficult."

Stosur knew she needed to start well and resist being overrun from the first swing of the racket. She made just four unforced errors in the first set and won two of the three break points she created. Serena started slowly and seemed sluggish; was it that painful toe injury, acting up? We never did get an answer to that, and by the end we didn't really need one. It turned out that the biggest threat to Stosur in this match would be The Law of Unintended Consequences.

If you're unfamiliar with that law, it's the process by which outcomes are not the outcomes intended by a purposeful action (and in the most potent expression of the law, the outcomes achieve the opposite of the intent, as when your decision to pay your kid's college tuition turns him into lazy slacker instead of a brain surgeon). Most of you know what happened in that first game of the second set: After fighting off a break point at 15-40, Serena struck a prodigious forehand—an apparent winner—and screamed "Come on!"

Unfortunately, she yelled before the point was properly over. Stosur did get her frame on it, but when the ball caromed off she appeared to turn and head for the deuce court immediately, without a further thought. But by then umpire Eva Asderaki was busy informing Serena that she, Asderaki, was awarding the point—and thus the game—to Stosur.

There was more to it, later, as Serena bombarded Asderaki with harsh words and earned a code conduct warning, but that's of little interest to me here (for the record, I think Asderaki had the right to make that call, but needn't have done it in light of the circumstances—Stosur seemed unbothered). The significant thing is that while Asderaki and Williams were verbally sparring over the decision, the crowd grew restive and booed lustily. For a long few moments, it seemed that utter chaos would reign. The disruption was unexpected and jarring; ultimately, it seemed to fire-up Serena and distract Stosur.

Serena leaped to a 40-0 lead in the next game and broke Stosur for the first time in the match, then held her own serve easily. The critical moment in the match probably was the following game, with Stosur serving at 1-2 down. She fell behind 15-40, but rallied with an ace and a backhand error by Serena. She slipped back to deuce, but closed out the game with a service winner an an ace. Having escaped, she got the decisive break of the match in the seventh game, forcing Serena into a backhand error after an extended rally.

A great deal was made of the controversy afterward, and I found myself sympathizing with Serena. When she was asked if she thoughtit "fair" to berate an umpire the way she did following the incident ("berate" may be too strong a word), Serena replied."I think everyone is so intense out there. I was really intense, and everyone just wants to do great. I know I did. Um, yeah, just try my best, you know? It's like giving it 100 percent."

Perhaps a lifetime spent watching the likes of Connors, McEnroe, Lendl and numerous others (including some women) jaw at umpires has left me jaded, but the "intensity" defense often works for me, as long as there's no intimidation or menacing involved. It's a stress-filled situation for all concerned, and heated words are a convenient way to blow off steam.

Stosur, nice, quiet, nose-to-the-grindstone type of woman that she is, seemed to want to have nothing to do with the controversy. She said, "Well, I mean, I don't know. . . Everything happened so quickly out there, and you're trying to get to the ball and play every single shot. I guess the rules of tennis are there for a reason. She (the umpire) made the call that she felt was right."

And lest you didn't notice, Serena went over and sat down with the new U.S. Open champion right after the match, before the presentation ceremony. It was an unusual gesture, which Stosur explained like this: "All of a sudden, yeah, I turned around and she was right next to me, which is kind of unusual. She was great, actually. She just said, How do you feel?  Are you really excited?  It's unbelievable. I played really well. I was really surprised to see her sitting next to me at that moment in time. I guess it, you know, shows what a nice person she is and what a true champion she is of the sport. To be able to separate the result a few minutes later and be able to come over and congratulate your opponent I thought was pretty classy."

Like those Aussies of two, three decades (and more) past, Stosur isn't interested in wading into controversy or making statements—except on a tennis court. She made a heck of a one there today.