ESPNMAG.com - Home sweet Wimbledon

LONDON -- After Henmania -- the maniacal state of an entire nation that suddenly crashed to earth when Goran Ivanisevic served 36 aces to out-last Tim Henman in the men's three-day, showers-splashed semifinal -- what remains? Venus Envy?

Not exactly.

Even as she won another Wimbledon in between all those spitting raindrops on Sunday -- firing on all cylinders in an exquisite third set and overpowering tiny teen Justine Henin, 6-1, 3-6, 6-0 -- Venus Ebone Starr Williams failed to elicit the response that both the boring Brit Boy and the amazing I Man did a little more than an hour earlier or even Venus herself did last year when she cruised to her first Grand Slam championship and jumped around the greensward in gleeful joy.

"I was just a deer in the headlights then, just kept going," the giggling two-time champion told the subdued crowd in an interview on the soaking grass on Sunday. "Today (because of the rain) I didn't want to leap because I might fall."

Maybe it was the constant drizzle. Or the universal depression over another Henman collapse. Or the inevitability of the occasion that seemed like a missing scary outtake from Toy Story when some towering, stuffed distaff "monster" -- which is what Henin's coach, Carlos Rodriguez, called Venus in the complimentary sense -- set out to rip the wings off Tinkerbell.

Indeed, Williams finished off -- "'bageled" in the tennis vernacular -- the haplessly out-muscled elfin Belgian, Henin (8 inches shorter, 34 pounds lighter) in the crunch, much as she thoroughly dispatched Lindsay Davenport with a 6-1 final set in the semis. In the process the VW express became the first woman to hold the title in successive years since Steffi Graf in 1996. Yet, not only was the Centre Court audience- -- Princes, Princesses, Ambassadors, Charges De'Affairs, Knights (Sir Paul McCartney) and Dates (Jack Nicholson and Laura Flynn Boyle, obviously looking for a Laker game) -- hardly moved with emotion, the only message the Dad-From-Another-Planet, Richard Williams, could scribble on his little home-made board in between snapping and video-taping posterity in his new cameraman's vest was "Well Done"????

Hardly a creative effort to satisfy wary Williamsologists, who recall last July's Richy Rich championship moment when her father danced on the roof of the broadcasters' box and held up his board upon which he had written "It's Venus' Party And Nobody Came." If not intentional, that surely insulted the losing finalist, Davenport. Though Williams pere did not summarily dismiss Henin's ability prior to the championship fray this time, his perverse taste for blatant tackiness prevailed, namely:

His insistence that Venus would retain her title playing at only "65 percent" of her ability.

His supposedly requesting a $300,000 fee for Venus and her sister Serena to help the British Lawn Tennis Association promote the sport.

His suggestion -- now, coming in increasingly monotonous installments -- that Venus would leave the game in the next few minutes to make even more millions.

As what? Ambasadress to the U.N.?

"Justine played great. She'll be here again. I didn't even take a set in my first Grand Slam final," a gracious Venus said, referring to the '97 U.S. Open where she won but four games against Martina Hingis. But an earlier Williams' statement -- after whipping up on one poor Shinobu Asagoe -- is more reflective of the street 'tude she has used to move to the near pinnacle of her profession: "If you have the opportunity to bully your opponent, you have to take that chance."

Williams' fans label her critics in America, media and otherwise, as evil, racist, attack-dogs -- threatening over the Internet to ruin their lives or, worse, report them to the Rev. Al Sharpton. Well, they can now direct the machine gun fire to this side of the pond.

"The Williams sisters have treated the established patterns and traditions of the game with something very close to contempt," wrote the distinguished columnist, Simon Barnes, in The Times. "There is a sense in which (they) are simply overplaying the part. As black Americans from the bad bits of LA ... they have become ham actors, always that little bit too anxious to be upsides with a hostile and difficult world.

"Sometimes they get it badly wrong. They take a cavalier attitude to practice, fitness, acclimatization and expect to do it all on talent alone. Mavericks and the breakers of rules and of moulds have their place in all sports but this easy disdain and contempt for their sport itself is something you see very seldom. And never among the achievers."

In the English literary magazine, The Spectator, Barnes also reflected on Richard Williams who, he wrote, "speaks about the hatred in the locker room for his daughters, which is due to jealousy, and to bias against them in the media because they are black. This is the same sort of audience -- white, middle class -- and the same media -- ditto -- that made a god-king of Tiger Woods ... Perhaps the point is that Woods is supremely talented and therefore easy in himself, while the girls are very good but show no signs of truly being great. For this missing ingredient they substitute bluster and arrogance.

"Richard Williams repeatedly tells the world that the reason everybody hates his tennis-playing daughters is that they are black. He is completely wrong. That's the reason why nobody dares to hate them."

Making her debut in a Slam final, Henin dared to make an impression on Williams' serve only in the middle of the match -- the holder's heavy, sometimes 118-mph deliveries too much to bear. "It's unbelievable to return this kind of serve on a grass court," said the loser, who had actually dismantled Williams on clay in the German Open two months earlier. "I think it's amazing. so fast, a lot of precision."

But at 3-4 in the second set, Venus double-faulted and struck some lackadaisical backhands leading to her only lost service, and Henin served out for the set.

To start the third, however, "I was really relaxed, really just ready to take it all," Venus said. "But maybe it was just experience." That and a fierce aggression that kept Williams moving forward again and again. She happily accepted two let cords on a single point and won the first game at 15. She broke for 2-0 and served at love for 3-0. When the drizzle increased, Williams merely stepped up the tempo to avoid still another interruption of play. At 1:08, it might have been the fastest three-setter in history.

"I don't feel changed," Venus said afterward, contrasting her back-to-back Big W's. "I'm still a kid and I don't want to grow up yet." But she has. Over a fortnight of media interviews, she was far more humble, sensitive and aware than ever before. She used words like "parsimonious" and made reference to both the works of Dr. Seuss and Death of A Salesman. Maybe, in time, she'll even outgrow her silly father.

"Venus can be so wonderful for our sport," said former Wimbledon champ Virginia Wade. "I asked her the other day 'How are you doing' and she called back, so sweet and vibrant: 'I'm just livin'. What's too bad is that she and her sister don't exert themselves. The skipped events. The so-called injuries. The dropouts from doubles. They could have won the doubles here limping. It's sad they don't expose themselves in all the tournaments and take their rightful place at the top of the game."

This was the older Williams sister's ninth tournament in 2001-- yet her fifth Wimbledon in 17 Grand Slams -- and now she (with her U.S. Open championship) and Jennifer Capriati (Australia and France) share the four major titles, the first American sweep-dominance since Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova 15 years ago.

At Venus' age, Graf had won two Wimbledons of her total seven and Navratilova won her first of a record nine. That age is still only 21. "Really, everyone I played here couldn't return my serve," Williams said. "I think it's going to be a great place for me for years to come."

Only Sir Paul said it better.

Strawberry Fields Forever.

Curry Kirkpatrick is covering Wimbledon for ESPN The Magazine, E-mail him at curry.kirkpatrick@espnmag.com.