Page 2 of Carrie Soto Is Back

Nicki serves wide. Cortez runs and scrambles to catch it on the rise, but it flies into the net.

I look at my father. He wears a slight frown.

In the players’ box, Cortez’s coach is hunched over in his seat, his hands cupping his face.

Nicki doesn’t have a coach. She left her last one almost three years ago and has taken six Slams since then without anyone’s guidance.

My dad makes a lot of cracks about players who don’t have coaches. But with Nicki, he seems to withhold judgment.

Cortez is bent over, holding her hand down on her hips and trying to catch her breath. Nicki doesn’t let up. She fires off another serve across the court. Cortez takes off running but misses it.

Nicki smiles.

I know that smile. I’ve been here before.

On the next point, Nicki takes the game.

“Dammit,” I say at the changeover.

My father raises his eyebrows. “Cortez crumbles as soon as she doesn’t control the court. And Nicki knows it.”

“Nicki’s powerful,” I say. “But she’s also hugely adaptable. When you play her, you’re playing somebody who is adjusting on the fly, tailoring their game to your specific weakness.”

My father nods.

“Every player has a weak spot,” I say. “And Nicki is great at finding it.”

“Right.”

“So what’s hers?”

My father is now holding back a smile. He lifts his drink and takes a sip.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” my father says.

“I haven’t made a decision.”

“All right.”

Both players head back out onto the court.

“Nicki is just a tiny bit slow,” I say, watching her walk to the baseline. “She has a lot of power, but she’s not fast—not in her footwork or her shot selection. She’s not quite as quick as Cortez, even today. But especially not as quick as Moretti, Antonovich, even Perez.”

“Or you,” my father says. “There’s nobody on the tour right now who is as fast as you were. Not just with your feet, but with your head,también.”

I nod.

He continues. “I’m talking about getting into position, taking theball out of the air early, taking the pace off so Nicki can’t hit it back with that power. Nobody on the tour is doing that. Not like you did.”

“I’d have to meet her power, though,” I tell him. “And somehow still maintain speed.”

“Which will not be easy.”

“Not at my age and not with my knee,” I say. “I don’t have the jumps I used to have.”

“Es verdad,” my father says. “It will take everything you have to give.”

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