First in her Class
by Peter Bodo

Sit in on Astronomy 101 and learn what makes Martina Hingis a star. Traveling at the speed of the comet Hale-Bopp, the buzz about Martina Hingis sizzles across the Internet and over tennis nets, through locker rooms and country club lounges. It crackles at the headquarters of multinational corporations, and it rises from hard-slatted benches alongside public courts everywhere in the world. It reverberates in dorm rooms, school cafeterias and even in a classroom where students prepare to discuss the nature of stars in Astronomy 101. In another time, in a distant galaxy, Hingis might be the star pupil in that class. But in the here and now, she has leapfrogged over her peers in a matter of nanoseconds to become the essence of the discussion, to become a star. Ah, that very word, "star." As verbal currency, it has been drastically devalued. It has been abused and overused, become a tag attached to any celebrity by the dim, lazy or careless at the garage sale of fame. But don't ever forget what a star truly is: a remarkable expulsion of volatile gases created by the power of nuclear fusion, a power that is almost too awesome to comprehend. A fantastic explosion of hydrogen and helium, creating a brightness that the naked eye can only withstand from millions of miles away.

Our sun is a "typical" star, not too big, not too bright, a body poised halfway between the brilliant "supergiants'' of the galaxy and the dense, cool neutron stars. As a player, Hingis also is halfway between a supergiant---say, a Martina Navratilova---and a dense, cool neutron star---a Chris Evert perhaps. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Even though she has won a Grand Slam title and reached No. 1 (owing to Graf's absence), she is still young-in short, a subject worthy of an intro course, not a Ph.D. thesis.

Let's begin.

Although Hingis sometimes appears to be made from bits and pieces of former prodigies, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, just as a description of the material elements and physical events that create a star doesn't even come close to describing the experience of gazing at the sky on a clear night.

Hingis, as we all know, got her first name from Navratilova. From Evonne Goolagong, Hingis seems to have inherited both an astonishing fluidity on the court and a blithe, carefree spirit. The economy of Hingis's game harkens back to Chris Evert, as does her precocious poise. Yet Evert was shy and almost painfully self-conscious, while Hingis meets the world square on, her jaw thrust slightly forward, a smile and offhand wisecrack ever at the ready. In that, she resembles Andrea Jaeger. The explosive two-handed backhand down the line, however, is pure Tracy Austin.

Now, the surprising and wonderful thing is that the players against whom Hingis must measure herself in real time are the ones whom she seems to resemble least: Steffi Graf and Monica Seles. Those two women are both driven by powers that seem beyond the reach and comprehension of Hingis-Graf by a no-nonsense athleticism that often incorporates a seeming disdain for the game itself, Seles by a perfectionism that is ultimately expressed as a utilitarian fury, aimed toward ending points before they can even be said to have begun. Thus their own light is different from the friendly light created by Hingis. Graf's light is cold, and even dark, if light can be said to be dark. Seles is a laser light show.

Hingis, at this stage in her career, is simpler to fathom. In fact, now I want you to draw a star-in the margin or on one of those flyaway subscription cards. (I'll wait.) Whether you are a child or adult, chances are it was one of those simple five-pointed stars where you don't even lift your pen. Give me the drawing and I will give you the five points of Hingis's star: Confidence, Stubbornness, Independence, Intelligence and Inquisitiveness.

CONFIDENCE

One hundred seventy members of the media and some 25 pro tennis players, including the original Martina, were on hand for Hingis's pro debut in Zurich in October 1994. A witness remembers that none of the women pros gave Hingis as much as a nod before the match, and many cheered on her opponent in that first match, 29-year-old American Patty Fendick. Hingis won 6-4, 6-3 and then evaluated her performance by commenting, "I'm not that surprised. I've beaten better players."

Since that day, Hingis has sometimes run afoul of players and press because of her confidence-the same kind of self-assurance that gave the older rivals of the prodigy Evert conniptions. Hingis always knew that she was not only good, but potentially great. And from the start, she has shouldered the responsibility as well as the privilege of her talent without sinking beneath the weight. In fact, Hingis carries it so lightly that after she won the women's doubles and singles titles at the Australian Open this year, she joked about restraining herself next year. "I should play mixed doubles next year," she said, "but I have to give someone else a chance to win an event."

Hingis does not project false modesty-she doesn't need the devious advantage it offers. She is partly the product of the literal-minded Swiss nation, which cherishes precision in all things, including expression. But she is even more a child of "the other Europe," the long-suffering republics where honesty is still a cherished commodity because so little of it was available under the repressive Soviet-sponsored regimes. Hingis's mother, coach and "best friend" Melanie Molitor grew up in' Czechoslovakia, as did Ivan Lendl and Martina Navratilova. All three of them are matter-of-fact, rather than matter-of-tact. All three have been called "arrogant." But the hauteur in them never was lighthearted and amiable, as it is in Martina Hingis. That's why she's different.

STUBBORNNESS

A few days after Hingis survived what would be the least impressive result of her run to the Australian Open title in January, she took a horse called Magic Girl through her paces at a jumping course just outside of Melbourne. The bay mare balked at a jump and Hingis ended up flat on her back. A lot of people wanted to shoot that horse. Hingis declared that she wanted to buy it. Most champions are pigheaded graduates of the "I know what I know" school of higher education. Each of them thinks that he or she represents the better mousetrap, the perfect game, the unique champion. That just comes with the territory. "I am Martina Hingis," the 16-year-old champion once said when asked to compare herself to other top players. "I am not a duplicate anyone." If you can utter such words and believe them, you are much more likely to neutralize such flaws as a so-so serve or a lack of sheer power. In keeping with today's low-fat obsessions, you could call Hingis's game "Baseline Lite." But if you can exploit its advantages, people may say of you what Jana Novotna said of Hingis: "She plays 'light tennis,' very effortless tennis. She is guessing right for so many balls, she's always on time. That makes her good."

In this case, the adjective "light" does not imply weak or fragile. Hingis stubbornly proved that last November, when she limped through a five-set loss to Graf in the final of the Chase Championships (6-0 in the fifth). "I couldn't serve, I couldn't stand on my foot," Hingis said later. "I just wanted to cry. I had no power in myself. But it was the final, and it's not good to stop playing until after the final point."

INDEPENDENCE

During the Australian Open, Hingis went into one of those overpriced leather shops that specialize in fleecing tourists. She decided to buy a handbag, but the proprietor was so smitten that he gave her a leather jacket, free. Hingis hardly took off the jacket for the rest of her stay. She is at the stage where she wants to be "cool." That's why the little Swiss racquet-thrower likes the colorful pro basketball star Dennis Rodman: because he bares his feelings and his emotions fearlessly, because he's cool.

It will be very interesting to see how the hint of rebelliousness that is already evident in Hingis ultimately will express itself. Currently, many of the same observers who raised a hue-and-cry over the "burnout" of Jennifer Capriati have already jumped on Hingis's bandwagon, claiming that her mother Melanie has avoided many of the pitfalls facing ambitious tennis parents. But it's way, way too early to make that call.

Although Melanie appears to have made many great moves and decisions in the interest of allowing Martina to lead a satisfying, "normal" life, some facts about her set the alarm bells ringing. Melanie went from Molitor to Hingis to Zogg and back to Molitor, unburdening herself of one country and two husbands along the way. There are those who say that the only thing she cares about is the vicarious thrill she gets out of her daughter's success. Maybe it's true, and maybe it's not. Melanie was recently asked how long she planned to travel with Martina, and Melanie replied, "Until her career is over, of course."

Right now, Hingis says she is "best friends" with her mother, and that even when they fight, it is "good fighting, family fighting." These are the sentiments of a good girl, an intelligent and obedient child, a good daughter. But they're also unlikely words coming from the mouth of a girl who wants to be cool, who feels sympathy for Dennis Rodman. And what do you think will be more important to Hingis as 16 becomes 18 and then 21-her life or the life of her mother? Martina's ambitions, spawned by tennis; or the ambitions of her mother, spawned in the yearning to create a tennis champion?

One day, the independence of Martina probably will come up hard against the authority of Melanie. It almost always happens with kids and dominant tennis parents. Independence is rarely given; it is almost always seized. Some prodigies, like Evert, claim it quickly and it all works out. Others struggle. At age 20, in 1990, Graf had to face an ugly scandal regarding her father Peter's involvement with a model. Steffi chose to stay under his wing, and she has paid a price for it. It's impossible to predict when, or why, the decisive moment will come for Martina and Melanie. But rest assured, it will come.

INTELLIGENCE

When Hingis gave a brief acceptance speech in French after winning the Paris Open last fall, it marked her ability to communicate in a fourth language (the others are Czech, English and German).

But the greatest and clearest proof of her intelligence is in the most developed part of her character: her tennis game. Hingis not only speaks tennis, but also reads it as well. She can analyze broad trends as well as specific players, as she showed when she remarked that "the Asian players tend to play flat and hard, so the first thing to do when playing them is make sure that you can adjust to the speed at which they hit the ball."

Anke Huber says, "Martina's abilities are fascinating. I would love to play like her." Aranxta Sanchez Vicario says, "She can mix it up, stay at the baseline, go to net, make drop shots. She doesn't have only one way of playing." Seles says, "She's so smart, she has all the angles covered." Enough said.

INQUISITIVENESS

Hingis is only 16, but she has already deduced that Paris is not merely "nice" or "cool" but "charming." By the same token, she has decided that America "has no culture, that everything is only show." When she first saw kids on in-line skates, she decided she had to try it. And when her successful tour in Australia concluded in January, she said that her favorite memory of all was going horseback riding in Perth and "seeing all those kangaroos jumping around." Hingis is genuinely curious about the world and eager to see what it has to offer. Right now, the most interesting thing it offers, besides those whimsical kangaroos, is boys. Yet even as she developed a crush on the young American player Justin Gimelstob, she was very curious to learn what she could about Justin's father, Barry, who has a reputation as a difficult tennis parent. Just where Hingis's inquisitiveness will take her is one of the more interesting questions posed by her success. She has outgrown the childhood desire to be a model, understanding that she is "not right" for the job. Will she also outgrow the desire to become a tennis player for the ages, a battle-scarred and emotionally buffeted veteran in the manner of Graf, or a flexible and surprisingly durable survivor, as was Evert? It's hard to know the answers to such questions, and they may even be premature.

But they aren't being raised-they appear naturally, like the contrails and doppelganger effects created by an object traveling at warp speed, like the cool light that reaches us from the most remote, burning star.