Clever, thoughtful, determined – three attributes that define Li Na. This 2019 International Tennis Hall of Fame inductee’s signature moment came at the 2011 French Open, when Li Na became the first Asian to earn a Grand Slam singles title. Then, proving she was no one-Slam wonder, Li Na won the 2014 Australian Open. In large part due to Li Na’s achievements, China now sparkles with WTA and ATP events, as well as many promising players.
The original plan was for Li Na to follow in her father Sheng-Peng’s footsteps and become a badminton player. But as Li Na recalled, when she was eight, after two years of badminton, “The coaches say, ‘no, no, you can not play badminton. You have to play tennis.” Why? Because her natural swing technique was exactly like that of a tennis player.
Li Na subsequently spent hours refining her game. A tragic moment came when Li Na was 14, and Sheng-Peng died. Li Na recognized then that tennis was, as she put it, her “only chance” to support her mother, Yan-Ping.
The pro who most caught Li Na’s attention in her youth was, like her, a hard-hitting baseliner. But this pro also was quite colorful – hair, wardrobe, even jewelry. His name: Andre Agassi. From the moment Li Na saw Agassi, she was fascinated with the idea that an athlete could be both proficient and charismatic. It only figured that in time she would sport two tattoos.
In the history of women’s tennis, there have often been tales of teen prodigies who rapidly make a mark. Not so for Li Na. Though she’d had some success at ITF events in her teens, the year she turned 20, in 2002, Li Na opted to leave tennis and study journalism. As she wrote in her autobiography, “Freedom was delicious.”
A major reason Li Na so enjoyed time away from tennis was that she was with the love of her life. Jiang Shan, informally called “Dennis,” was also a tennis player. He and Li deeply understood one another. And so, the chance for the two of them to be students was a welcome respite; perhaps even, the start of a new life.
But Li Na couldn’t help but resume the craft she had so dedicated herself to. She returned to the WTA in 2004. A significant change happened in 2008, when Li Na parted ways with the Chinese sports system that had supported her ambitions, but also took 65 percent of her prize money. Under the auspices of an approach dubbed “Flying Solo,” Li Na would now have to provide the government with only eight percent of her earnings. A year later, Li Na finished in the top 20 for the first time.
And then, in 2011, everything changed. In the semis of the Australian Open, Li Na overcame a match point versus world number one Caroline Wozniacki. Though she would lose that final to Kim Clijsters, the experience would prove quite helpful.
At Roland-Garros that spring, Li Na’s game clicked into high gear. Her flat, hard drives continually oppressed opponents. Her competitive spirit was positive. In the semis, against Maria Sharapova, Li Na squeaked out a 6-4, 7-5 victory.
In the finals, with 116 million people in China watching the match, Li Na took on the holder, Francesca Schiavone – and soon led 6-4, 4-2. Schiavone fought back to 6-all. But here, Li Na was transcendent, taking it in the tiebreak, 7-0.
But life after that win was difficult. In 2012, Li Na failed to get past the fourth round of a single major. As the likes of Boris Becker and Andy Murray know quite well, carrying the tennis hopes of a country on your shoulders can be extremely draining.
In June 2013, on a drive from Eastbourne to London, just weeks after a second round loss at Roland-Garros, Li Na pondered retirement. A year earlier, she’d started to work with Carlos Rodriguez, Justine Henin’s former coach. In the car that day, Rodriguez told Li Na he was certain she had better days ahead. Li Na persevered. She reached the quarters at Wimbledon, the semis at the US Open, the finals of the WTA season-ending championship. At the end of 2013, Li was ranked World No. 3.
Even better things came once 2014 began. The principle that tennis is a game of inches surfaced eloquently in Li Na’s third round match at the Australian Open versus Lucie Safarova. Serving at 1-6, 5-6, Li Na faced a match point. Safarova struck a down-the-line backhand that was barely long. Li Na rallied to 6-all, won the tiebreaker handily and then captured the third set, 6-3. Said Li Na after the match, “I think five centimeters saved my tournament.” As often happens to a player who has stood one point away from defeat, Li felt liberated. From there on, she failed to drop a set. And this time in the finals, against 24th-ranked Dominika Cibulkova, Li Na was clearly the favorite. After winning the first set in a tiebreaker, Li Na was thoroughly in control, taking the second, 6-0.
When it was over, Li Na gave one of the most humorous victory speeches in tennis history. She thanked her agent: “Make me rich. Thanks a lot.” And then, as she had frequently over the years, she chided Dennis. Said Li Na, “Thanks for him [to] give up everything, just traveling with me to be my hitting partner, fix the drinks and fix the rackets. So thanks a lot. You’re a nice guy. And also you are so lucky to find me.”
Soon after, Li Na reached a career high ranking of number two in the world. But as 2014 continued, an ongoing series of knee injuries became increasingly difficult to manage. On September 19, 2014, Li Na announced her retirement.
It had been an amazing career, one that had seen Li Na help propel an entire nation’s tennis fate in a major way. Thanks largely to Li Na, China had become a major tennis power. But it was also very much a personal journey, one marked by Li Na’s distinct mix of dedication and skill, wit and warmth.
