IN ARTHUR Ashe, the world saw first Black tennis superstar who was revered for both, his tennis prowess and his human qualities. He was described to be the most graceful -- and gracious -- tennis player of his times (several decades ago). And all along, he looked so cool -- very sorted out, and almost poetic in his physical fluence. Often, Arthur Ashe was raided by his fans -- for his autographs, for his message, for shaking hands with him. “Oh my god, I touched him!!!”, a fan once gushed after meeting the legend. And when a sports journalist asked him about the secret of his grace and calm, Arthur Ashe gave almost an epigrammatic response -- in one sentence. The crux was, in his own words, physically loose, but mentally tight. In essence, he knew what he should be like, physically and mentally. When an alert -- tight -- mind resides in a relaxed body -- loose -- then the outcome is grace. And what is grace, by the way? Grace is the quality that actually symbolises courage. One definition of courage is ‘grace under pressure’. In other words, when one is absolutely graceful or collected or composed even under severe pressure, one is described to be graceful. Arthur Ashe was one such person -- absolutely graceful under the pressure of top-level international tennis. But A she’s story is still different from this simplistic description.

 

As a Black tennis player, in those old days, say almost fifty years ago, he faced pressures that are not easy to imagine. His actions were under strict scrutiny of everybody. He felt compelled not to challenge wrong line-calls. He realised that he could not punch the air in celebration of a point won. Also, he could not express his grief or sorrow upon losing a match. For, in those days of social segregation on the colour of the skin, Arthur Ashe felt compelled to remain a sedate person, something that his inner being refused to be. He was young and he was skilled, and he was successful. Yet, skin-deep social value-system barred him from expressing himself fully as he wished. So, Arthur Ashe moulded himself in an altogether different manner. He remained cool outside, playing his game in utmost sincerity, not getting stuck in the point scored or missed, and all the time looking forward to the next shot. Mentally, he achieved sort of a commando-alert, but externally or physically, to some, he did appear lax to the extent of being called lazy in movement. Nothing of that mattered for Ashe, though.

 

He had cast himself in a mould of his own making. And in that very personalised cocoon, he stayed physically loose and mentally tight -- open for any snap movement at any moment, like a paradoxically lethargic leopard. Such a state of mind is not easy to be achieved, though. It takes extra-human effort. It takes a very deep contemplation on self -- in the meditative manner.

 

In other words, this requires a composure of a yogi! Arthur Ashe had all those qualities bundled into his persona. Later in life, when an infected injection needle pushed him into AIDS, a woman fan screamed: “Why, Arthur, why you?” To that letter, Arthur replied, in effect, that he could not ask that question to himself. For, by that token, he should have asked the same question -- why me? -- when he became World Number One. Wasn’t that an ultimate expression of spiritual grace! He just accepted what he could not change. Inwardly, though, he changed himself -- as he always did. For, as a sports writer described him, he was a man free in the right place -- in his mind.