This year’s two most notable inductees into the International Tennis Hall of Fame represent a latter-day tale of sinner and saint. There’s Marat Safin: dissolute, sybaritic, a cavalier underachiever—yet still accomplished enough to merit enshrinement alongside the sport’s icons. And there’s Justine Henin: almost nun-like in her devotion to the game and ever faithful to the pact she struck with her tennis-loving mother, who was taken from her by cancer when Henin was just 12.
“I will win this tournament one day,” 10-year old Justine promised her mother when the pair visited Roland Garros in 1992 to watch Monica Seles play Steffi Graf in a classic final. She would make good on the vow, winning the French Open four times.
Four years later, Henin began to work with coach Carlos Rodriguez. They struck up a relationship that would transcend the familiar coaching concordat at every level and lasted 15 years. That fealty was obvious in Henin’s professionalism and was justified by her style, a beguiling mix of touch, power and spin. As her game matured, Henin’s great distinction emerged: no woman was so small—just 5'5"—yet played so big. She constantly looked to attack, often behind a slice backhand. But it was Henin’s one-handed topspin backhand that blew away most aesthetes. It’s the connoisseur’s shot because it represents utter abandon married to exquisite control.