OVERSHADOWED BY RAFTER; SHADOWED BY HIS OWN IMAGE

Hewitt: a hungry prophet without honor in his own land

By Alix Ramsay
Special to tennisreporters.net

Siggi Bucher

FROM THE AUSTRALIAN OPEN – He is the world No. 1, the overwhelming favorite to win the first Grand Slam title of the year and the local hero. And yet, Lleyton Hewitt cannot force his way on to the front page of the local newspapers.

If it is not the cricketers hogging the limelight, it is Anna Kournikova and her short skirt, tattoo (or lack thereof) and abominable first serve. What is a chap
to do?

The retirement of Pat Rafter ate up more column inches than Hewitt's challenge for his first Australian Open title. Then again, everyone loved Rafter – at home and abroad – and in Australia these days, they are only just coming to terms with Hewitt. His relationship with the local media is, at best, strained, and he seems to be of the opinion that the press is an unnecessary evil. Despite the fact that he is utterly committed to the Australian cause in Davis Cup (he has helped them to three finals and one victory in the past four years) and is a proud, flag-waving and patriotic Aussie, willing to spread the word about his country and its merits wherever he goes, he remains a prophet without honor in his own land.

The marketing men have obviously decided to launch a charm offensive this year, revealing a surprising and hitherto unknown side of the world's best … although quite what they are trying to expose is debatable. So far Hewitt has been featured in almost every ad break since the tournament began, promoting the qualities of Sorbent toilet tissue. It may not have quite the kudos of the Wheaties endorsement, but it is a start.

TOUGH OPPONENTS FADE AWAY
The players, too, seem to be doing their bit to help the Australian cause. Carlos Moya, the one man who has Hewitt's number with four wins out of five over the world No. 1 last year, made an early exit on Wednesday. A combination of a sore elbow and a hefty dose of frustration was enough to end Moya's chance as Mardy Fish beat him in five sets. Hewitt may not actually fear any opponent, but Moya's loss will have made him sleep a little easier.

Gustavo Kuerten, too, removed himself from reckoning. He was due to play Hewitt in the third round and, for once, had come to Melbourne with a sense of purpose. He has been working up to 12 hours a day to prepare for the new season and has his heart set on another Roland Garros title. To have started the year with a good run here would have set him up nicely but, trying to find his way around the Vodafone Arena, he got lost. Built three years ago, the court has a bad reputation in the locker room. Apparently the light is strange and the playing area feels too big; either way, it was enough to spook Guga into a 5-7, 6-3, 7-5, 4-6, 6-3 defeat against Radek Stepanek.

It all should have been enough to settle Hewitt's nerves, for, sure as eggs is eggs, he was a touch tight as the tournament got under way. It took him five sets to deal with Magnus Larsson on Tuesday and he looked mighty relieved once it was all over. No wonder, too, as this is his first real taste of national pressure. In the past Rafter has been the crowd's darling, Philippoussis has been there or there abouts and Hewitt has been one of a small but select band of possible contenders.

When he took over the No. 1 ranking, he was promptly struck down with chickenpox and knew that he did not have a hope of winning the title. Back again this year, he is the top seed and the only home grown player with a serious chance of glory. It was enough to make even the bravest of the brave twitch slightly.

NO MERCY FOR COUNTRYMAN
Against Todd Larkham, a 28-year-old journeyman who earns his corn on the satellite and challenger circuits, it was a different matter. Larkham knew he did not have much of a chance when the draw was made but once he had struggled through a brutal first round encounter with Cecil Mamiit – he ended up on an IV drip afterwards – he knew he was toast. Hobbling around from the start, his cause was not helped by a shoulder problem and the fact that his ranking is stuck at 235 and Hewitt is the best player in the world. At least it was swift at 6-1, 6-0, 6-1.

Hewitt knows what to expect as a big tournament unfolds –"You get the smell of a Slam," he said – and now the real work starts. There was no crisis of conscience as he made a chump of Larkham even though he was a fellow Australian and a man he knew from years gone by.

"This is a Grand Slam," he explained for the hard of understanding. "You can't take any match lightly. It's always nice to have an easy match after a tough one. I felt hungry. I felt eager out there. I felt quick on my feet. When you put in your work before a Slam starts, you've got to be prepared to play seven best of five set matches. You've got to be prepared to last three, four hours maybe seven matches. Hopefully I've done enough work to be able to do that."

The form is improving, the nerves are receding and he is talking like the cutthroat champion of last year. It would seem that Mr. Hewitt is determined to make the front page of the local papers whether the Australian public like it or not.