Plato said that humans come in four types, those who are born with the heart of a philosopher, a leader, a merchant or a warrior. A more peaceful and balanced version of the warrior would be the athlete, and a bit less so, the lawyer. But the most interesting is always to somehow combine the heart of all four, in the pursuit of excellence and the ultimate expression of the human spirit. Drawing inspiration from a Confucius and a Thomas Jefferson alongside a Marco Polo and a Roger Federer, militates for a more all-rounded life.
Maria Sharapova’s memoirs, Unstoppable: my life so far, is a veritable insight not only into the life, but the innermost thoughts and feelings of an admired female athlete, who has broken the mould of only male athletes being the source of public inspiration in sport.
Unstoppable opens a window into the soul of another human being, a soul that, despite obviously standing out for her athletic achievements, reveals also a heart in a human chest that beats with the same rhythm as each and every one of us. Therein lies the secret to true inspiration, born when people identify with another person’s human qualities, efforts and struggles, and their ability to overcome them.
The ancient Greeks believed that the Olympian gods actually envied us humans. While they ruled with all their superpowers from their lofty heights, it was actually humans who were the true heroes, who struggled, persevered, fought and loved with an undying passion, in spite of their mortality and endless weaknesses. It is ultimately the human struggle that inspires others.
This path of a seven-year-old girl born with a passion, but also enormous talent, for hitting tennis balls, is not totally dissimilar to that of those young boys in Tibet who are plucked fresh from family by top lamas to embark upon a special journey far from the comfort of their homes. Sharapova found herself taking the road far less travelled, fraught as it was with snares and pitfalls.
It is a story of a remarkable journey that is an insight in itself into the power of the human spirit. But the book is not just about the details along the way. There is depth of both feeling and reflection, with a little subtle humour, that grace the pages as the story unfolds.
When news of the meldonium crisis exploded in March 2016, the medicinal was unknown in many countries because the pharmaceutical giants who had no patents to it, had no financial interest in reproducing it. It turns out that meldonium protects heart tissue from damage, which is so easily the case with extreme exertion, and there is no scientific study ever carried out that indicates that it actually enhances performance.
In fact caffeine is far more of a stimulant than meldonium could ever be. Should the World Anti-Doping Agency have actually recommended meldonium to all athletes, to protect their hearts, which would certainly remove any possibilities, no matter how remote, of any unfair advantage by some?
Should it have instead decided to ban the substance, as it did on January 1, 2016, without even bothering to carry out studies to assess if it does give an athlete enhanced performance?
Failing to notice in that fateful first month of January, of the addition of the medicinal meldonium to the banned substance list, was a highly unfortunate administrative error of the Sharapova team. But the International Tennis Federation’s refusal to grant her a therapeutic use exemption, in terms of the regulations, was almost as shocking as its insistence that she be given the maximum suspension of four years, which would effectively have ended the career of the most popular female tennis player.
Equally shocking is its procedure to appoint the tribunal to hear her case, something anathema in the world of justice, as was the sport officials condemning her in public when her case was still sub judice. Apparently such fundamental principles do not exist in the world of sports justice.
When news of the meldonium crisis exploded in March 2016, the medicinal was unknown in many countries because the pharmaceutical giants who had no patents to it, had no financial interest in reproducing it
To make matters worse, the obvious administrative error was caused in part by the ITF’s own failure to exercise due diligence by adequately notifying its athletes of the addition of meldonium to its new banned substance list. This was clearly pointed out in the appeal judgment given by the Court of Arbitration for Sport in the ITF v Sharapova case.
Reading Sharapova’s own account of her ordeal with sports justice would make any lawyer cringe, even those donning “crooked ties”, as described, tongue-in-cheek, by this tennis star, turned fashion icon, known for her critical eye and attention to detail.
Having seen the all out assault against Russian athletes, and the introduction of collective punishment, something absolutely forbidden in the world of justice, but again not so in ‘sports justice’, one cannot help suspecting whether the ITF’s sudden zealous conversion in its baying for Sharapova’s blood was somehow swayed by the huge anti-Russian tide that had been building up against athletes on the eve of the summer and now even winter Olympics.
Be it as it may, the irony is that Sharapova tells us that she had been seriously considering retiring from her sport at the end of the 2017 season. So had her detractors been patient, she would have moved on to other pastures by now. As it is, her encounter with sports justice, or the lack of it, only served to rekindle more than ever that fire she has inside to hit those tennis balls with the all absorbing focus of a Zen practitioner, and to play surrounded by her fans who were the ones to stick by her when the world’s sport and media guns were turned on her.
Had it not been for the ITF and meldonium saga, therefore, Sharapova’s 15 million fans would now be down in the tennis dumps with their tennis icon in full retirement. Instead, they now have a reinvigorated athlete who, in the year she had at her disposal to recover from the many aches and pains of an athlete’s relentless run, has suddenly realised how much she would miss hitting those balls; and maybe, yes, even miss her supportive fans egging her on, while they in turn miss a heartbeat, one might add, every time she steps up to take a second serve, which she hammers down the court with fiery determination, throwing all caution to the wind, in that galactic drama and unique symbiotic relationship that exists between athlete and fan.
Maria is not superhuman, though one may be excused for thinking so when her statuesque figure appears in the tennis arena fully armed and ready for battle, like the goddess Nike Athena herself, towering over trembling mortals like a Goliath, or a tall white from the Pleiades. She is human, like the rest of us, as you would see when reading her book Unstoppable. Maybe she too is somehow envied by those who look down on us all with disdain from Olympus, for daring to leave our mortal mark on this oh so imperfect world, and to challenge their supremacy.
Meanwhile the rest of us mortals can keep watching Sharapova’s Zen in motion on the tennis court, where she was born to flourish and to inspire, and which no Olympian, mortal or otherwise, could ever deny.