French Open 2015: Destroying the 'GOAT' argument, one Serena Slam at a time

Serena Williams holding the 2015 French Open trophy, with Martina Navratilova (L) looking on

Serena Williams is not perfect. Far from it. Even on her best days, she throws in more than her fair share of head-scratching errors. Even in her most memorable title wins, she struggles through matches where her forehand completely abandons her. Even in her most dominating seasons, she goes through moments of public self-doubt and frustration.

But what’s life without a little drama?

Serena has had a career filled with the entire gamut of human sentiments, and almost every match that she plays is a microcosm of that emotional spread. Not for her is the steely determination of a Bjorn Borg or the calm dominance of a Steffi Graf. With Serena, you get it all. Ferocity. Arrogance. Dismissiveness. Pride. Uncertainty. Anxiety. Frustration. Desperation. Depression. Hope. Rejuvenation. Vengeance. Satisfaction. Elation. Catharsis.

At the French Open 2015, Serena showed off a whole new type of mental state altogether. I can’t really describe it; I want to say determination in the face of physical discomfort, but it was more like drama-filled improvisation in the face of bottomless despair.

The World No. 1 was down with some kind of flu from the third round onwards, and it showed. She was forced to claw her way through a string of three-setters, and the only match she looked remotely comfortable on court was the one in which she faced her favourite punching bag, Sara Errani. Apart from that one match though, watching Serena in action was like watching a particularly noisy trainwreck.

She couldn’t play her best tennis, and she couldn’t intimidate her opponents with her power and accuracy, so she looked for others way to get the job done – any other way at all. She screamed at the heavens. She screamed at herself. She doubled over on the court, almost writhing in pain. She twirled around after every shot that went close to the line. And even all of that was almost not enough.

Victoria Azarenka almost had her beat, Sloane Stephens almost had her beat, Timea Bacsinszky almost had her beat, and most shockingly of all, Anna-Lena Friedsam almost had her beat. Wait; Anna-Lena who?

That’s the extent of how off-kilter Serena was at Roland Garros this year. She struggled with her forehand, made uncharasteristic errors off her backhand, and even lost control of her trusty serve at times. The slow surface didn’t help; Serena has never been the most natural mover on clay, and her brand of ultra-aggressive, no-patience tennis doesn’t usually work well in Paris either.

All of those things were magnified in the final today against Lucie Safarova, who had looked as comfortable through her first six matches as Serena had looked out of sorts. The Czech played what can easily be called the finest tennis of her career to defeat Maria Sharapova, Garbine Muguruza and Ana Ivanovic in consecutive matches, and if anyone could have been backed to steal the upset over an ailing Serena in a claycourt final, it had to be a lefty slugger like Safarova.

Once the match got underway, Serena managed to avoid repeating the mistake of her previous four Houdini acts – losing the opening set. But she did something almost as bad; she lost the second set after taking a commanding lead, and then went down a break to start the third.

There were the ghastly misses and miscued volleys, just like the previous rounds, and more worryingly, there was also a rash of untimely double faults. 4-1 in the second set became 5-5 in no time, and after Serena failed to serve out the match at 6-5, the writing seemed to be on the wall.

But why would we ever think the writing is on the wall, when it’s Serena Williams we’re talking about? After Safarova took a 2-1 lead in the decider, Serena went back to her ‘anything goes’ bag of tricks. Her screams – both of elation and frustration – became louder than her groundstrokes, and her swings became fiercer than her stares. The poor Czech didn’t really do much wrong, except be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Serena was in beast mode, and it’s never fun to be her opponent at such a time.

There was hardly any doubting the result after that; 1-2 quickly became 4-2, and then 6-2. Serena had won six games in a row after going down a break, exactly like her third round match against Azarenka, and Grand Slam No. 20 was in her pocket.

The drama didn’t stop there though. With an expression that alternated between ecstasy and misery, the American did her customary rounds of the court with more-than-customary gusto. She laughed, she cried, she bowed her head down in relief, and she looked at the world like only she can – with the eyes of a thoroughly unique champion.

With every Slam that Serena wins, the dicsussions resurface about her legacy and her place in history. She’s now just two shy of Steffi Graf’s Open Era record of 22 Majors, and half-way through to a maiden Calendar Grand Slam. Having won three Slams on the bounce, she’s also just one Major away from a second ‘Serena Slam’ – a non-calendar Grand Slam – and there’s no reason to think that that is in any way less impressive or incredible than a calendar one.

To do all that, at the ripe old age of 33, is something that we can’t possibly appreciate in its entirety at this moment. Like many other aspects of Serena’s career, this little run of dominance will likely be viewed much more favourably by history than by us living through it. But to my mind, the question of whether she is the greatest tennis player of all time has already been answered; the more pertinent question right now is – is she the greatest sportswoman of all time?

If you’re ever bored with your life and have nothing better to do than trying to decipher the answer to that question, here are a few helpful little tidbits. Serena Williams can win the biggest tournaments in tennis without playing her best tennis at any point. She’s far from perfect, and she’s still miles ahead of the competition. She can be down with flu and look desperately out of sorts on the court, but can still make stirring comebacks and remarkable recoveries to snuff out any resistance from across the net.

How can there have possibly been a greater sportswoman than that?