Three years before conquering Wimbledon, the Australian had an experience in London that marked her forever. A defeat against the toughest rival: herself.
The sports career of Ashleigh Barty is worthy of study in every aspect, even those where she decided to step away from competition. A prodigious hand for playing this sport, but a fragile mind, not always prepared for the demands of the circuit. That’s why she retired at 25 and never returned. In her book (‘My Dream Time’), she shares that her childhood dream was always to win Wimbledon, the tournament she first conquered in the junior category at just 16 years old and later repeated as an adult. The London grass is special, perhaps that’s why she experienced one of the biggest setbacks of her career there. A defeat that, according to her, marked a turning point to leave behind all her fears and start becoming a legend.
After two sabbatical years to take a break from tennis, Barty resumed activity in September 2016, playing four tournaments to show that it’s never too late to try again. By 2017, we saw her completing the full calendar, climbing from #272 to the top 20 in the rankings, a meteoric rise confirming her talent. The true test came in 2018, a season demanding a new level of quality, more mental than technical. However, the 22-year-old player struggled, stagnated, and had trouble maintaining her own pace of progress. At Wimbledon, with a record of 27-11, she was ranked No.17 globally, the same position she started the season in. Interestingly, it was at her beloved Cathedral where she was to suffer her most devastating defeat.
Although her face always reflected kindness and shyness, the truth is that Barty carried the procession inside. She always suffered from a duality in her head, two voices whispering conflicting ideas to her. One tells her she is not good enough, while the other denies it, encouraging her to continue. Both feelings are real, living inside her mind, as familiar as they are confusing. Both are at the wheel, winning and losing matches, emerging at important moments. The one from Ipswich listens to both voices, which determines her version of each day. That Saturday, July 7, 2018, on Court 3 at the AELTC, all she hears is: “Ash, you’re not good enough”.
On the verge of breaking down in tears, the player doesn’t understand why she thinks that way, when she is truly in glory. At times, she relaxes, opens her eyes, and realizes she loves that place. She is in love with the court, the grass, the tournament… we are at Wimbledon!! She should be crying, but out of joy, pleasure, honor. However, inside, she is on fire, which her opponent, a 21-year-old Daria Kasatkina, takes advantage of, seemingly shouting louder with each hit she connects. They face each other in the third round, the #14 against the #17 in the world, theoretically, there is no clear favorite, but the danger lies in thinking further. A victory would place her for the first time in the second week of a Grand Slam, where Alison Van Uytvanck awaits, a match to dream of reaching the quarterfinals, the top 10… but her mind won’t let her. The voices have her cornered, reminding her she is good, yet perhaps not enough.
GOOD WOLF, BAD WOLF
To understand exactly how these carnivores attack, one must turn to Cherokee culture, where a young man asks his grandfather which of the two will win the battle within his head. One wolf is evil: it has anger, greed, arrogance, and self-pity, as well as ego and sadness. The other wolf is good: it has faith, compassion, joy, and love, as well as humility and hope. Both bite each other, trying to control the boy. The young man wonders: ‘Which wolf will win?’. The grandfather replies: ‘The one you feed’. One must always choose between fear and faith, between inferiority and belief, between ‘Ash, you’re not good enough’ and ‘Yes, you are, go Ash!’.
That day, Barty feeds the wrong wolf.
To be honest, she has been feeding the wrong wolf for months, only that day, breaking one more layer, she will end up manifesting it publicly, crossing the red line. Blinded by the adverse score, the oceanic abandons her process and starts looking for shortcuts. She dismisses patience, the step by step, and becomes obsessed with taking leaps. That is how she fails, although the impulse has been there since last week, in Eastbourne. There she loses to Caroline Wozniacki, attributing it to the grass not being perfect, forgetting it’s her favorite surface. A simple excuse, the real reason is that the Dane doesn’t miss a shot and is willing to spend a whole day pushing the ball, the total opposite of her. In the battle against immaturity, she ends up winning the first set (6-4, 6-3), a problem she’s been facing more and more, always in important matches, precisely the ones she desires the most. Will it happen again at Wimbledon?
From the sidelines, Craig Tyzzer always promotes a friendly, calm, and professional coexistence. At almost 60 years old, the Australian is the coach chosen by Barty since her return to the circuit, a charming man who not only provides tactical elements but also makes the journey light and familiar for her. Upon arriving at Wimbledon, the coach realizes that he forgot to pack white trousers, so he will have to go to the first store he finds if he wants to be allowed entry into the club. A moment of parody that helps create a good atmosphere within the team, although peace was not going to last long. Let’s see how Ashleigh’s mindset works throughout the draw.
First round, Stefanie Voegele: “We know each other well, we are friends, we faced each other two weeks ago in Nottingham, and she couldn’t do anything, but this time she is causing me problems. Maybe she has observed me well, she has nothing to lose, so it’s time to fight. I am relaxed but frustrated, I hit my leg with my racket, even though I know I shouldn’t. I am upset, the difference between missing a ball and making it should not mean much to me, but with each small mistake, I see a colossal failure. I am exaggerating everything. I win the match (7-6, 6-3) and leave the court tired, frustrated. It’s not a good sign.”
Second round, Eugenie Bouchard: “The media talks a lot about the match because we both won Wimbledon Junior, although she also reached the final in 2014. I get caught up in that narrative, another sign that things are not going well. I try to find something to motivate me, to give me energy, but I’m not sure. I start the match incredibly well, missing only a couple of first serves in the entire first set. In the second set, everything falls apart, I get broken, the stress increases. Some easy points get me out of trouble, and I end with a good streak. I don’t know how I do it, but I win the match 6-4 and 7-5”.
Third round, Daria Kasatkina: “She’s a prodigy, a really tough opponent, but the prize is advancing to the fourth round, undiscovered territory for me at this stage of my career. The opportunity to reach the second week of a Grand Slam has arrived. And to make it more exciting, it will be on Wimbledon’s Manic Monday. At first, everything flows, I lead 4-1, I feel like I have it. I know I’m a good grass court player, better than her. I feel fresh, controlling the match, but I must watch out for my arrogance and doubts, as both can bring me down. Suddenly my expectations rise, and at that moment, everything changes”.
The change is not random, it is carried out by a Kasatkina who begins to draw different shapes with the ball, reducing the speed of the ball. The Russian hits high and slow, again and again on her backhand, as if she were Wozniacki. She doesn’t aim for winners, she just wants to dictate, to bother. And she succeeds. She doesn’t give her rhythm to work, doesn’t allow her to search for angles, forces her to stay neutral, hitting back. This deviates her course, loses all clarity, lacks the maturity to adjust the plan. So much fragility leaves her speechless, multiplies her anger, annihilates her. When Dasha closes the first set 7-5, the sensation is like falling off a precipice. At that moment, what Barty wants is to leave the court and exit the tournament.
“The problem is that when things are going well, I am very good, but when they go badly, I am horrible. When I am winning, I seem like the million-dollar girl, as if I were playing with my opponents, but when my tactics don’t work, I lack the maturity to solve my own problems,” explains the former World No. 1 in her memoirs. “Basically, when Plan A doesn’t work, I don’t see other options, even though I have Plans B, C, D, and E in front of me. In the end, I opt for Plan F: cursing, criticizing, muttering, and grumbling. It’s simpler, so that’s what I do. ‘To hell with everything, this is crap!’, I shout in the middle of the court. The match progresses and I just shake my head, make faces, respond to my box, my family, fans, but above all to my coach. I always respond like this when I feel cornered, I get irritable, I vent by spewing venom,” she summarises with anguish.
