Wednesday, January 3, 2001
Superstars took different paths
to similar success
By Brad Townsend
The Dallas Morning News
DALLAS — The world's two most famous
sports fathers have never met. They never will, if Earl Woods
can help it.
Earl, dad of Tiger, says he has “observed”
all he cares to know about Richard Williams' guidance of daughters
Venus and Serena.
“You know, I really don't know his
motivation,” Earl says. “I can only say that it doesn't
reflect favorably on him or his children.”
So barring a detente, these superfathers
will never talk, much less shake hands. Never mind what a photo-op
that would be. Imagine the stories they could swap, the pride
they could share.
Tiger has won four of golf's last five major
titles, including three in 2000. Venus and Serena have claimed
three of tennis' last five Grand Slams, Venus winning last year's
Wimbledon and U.S. Open titles.
Last summer, Tiger made sports endorsement
history by signing a five-year, $100 million extension with Nike.
Last month, Venus signed the largest endorsement deal in women's
sports — $40 million with Reebok.
And from all indications, they're just getting
started.
Earl's son and Richard's daughters have
revolutionized their sports. They exemplify power and ooze charisma.
They are world-visible beacons of their race and generation —
young, dynamic African-Americans reigning over traditionally stodgy,
lily-white pastimes.
And they grew up only 20 miles apart in
southern California — Tiger in Cypress, Venus and Serena
near South Central Los Angeles in Compton.
It seems odd, and perhaps a shame, that
their dads have never crossed paths, not even accidentally. Particularly
since Richard, 58, is a self-described “big fan” of
the 68-year-old Earl and has said that meeting him “would
be the greatest opportunity of my life.”
But while Richard seems to revel in having
his daughters compared to Tiger, Earl reviles such talk. Indeed,
while lumping Tiger with the Williamses because of their statures,
the public and media sometimes overlook their stark differences.
Their victory rates compare, but not the
manner in which they have been achieved. Even while dominating
with 17 tour victories and more than $15 million during the last
two years, Woods has forged friendships among peers.
The Williams sisters have taken an “us
against the world” approach, accepting that they aren't popular
among WTA players. Their father's high-profile actions following
significant victories — from celebration dances to blunt
statements about opponents — have shared billing with the
victories themselves and have only fueled criticism.
Asked why he so disapproves of Richard,
Earl lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Well, it's a ton of things,”
he says. For one, Earl believes 20-year-old Venus' and 19-year-old
Serena's lack of maturity and respect for opponents reflects poorly
on Richard.
Earl recalls Venus' Wimbledon final victory
over Lindsay Davenport last July, when Richard climbed atop the
NBC broadcast booth and held aloft various hand-written signs,
including one that read, “Venus' party, and no one was invited.”
Earl sighs. “You can look at me, and
you can know me or not know me,” he says. “And you'd
know I would never do anything like that. I have too much respect
for my son.”
Earl has been known to raise eyebrows as
well, most infamously, perhaps, when he told Sports Illustrated
in 1996: “Tiger will do more than any
other human in history to change the course of humanity.”
In terms of how Tiger and the Williams sisters
comport themselves, however, the golf and tennis worlds seem to
share Earl's perception.
Tiger ruffled more than a few feathers during
his first two PGA Tour seasons, 1996-97. Some players saw him
as aloof, especially after he refused Billy Andrade's request
to sign a ball for charity during the `97 GTE Byron Nelson Classic.
That summer, Woods was criticized for blowing past reporters without
comment after the first round of the U.S. Open.
But Woods apologized for those mistakes.
His relationship with the media has improved markedly. He seems
to have earned peers' respect, if not yet their full embrace.
Legends like Byron Nelson, Jack Nicklaus
and Lee Trevino have praised his off-course comportment and declared
the future of golf to be in deserving hands. When players are
paired with Tiger for the first time, they often remark what a
pleasure he is to watch and play with.
“I am so happy for him,” says
Dallas' Trevino, himself a golfing trailblazer in the Hispanic
community. “I know how he did it, how many practice balls
he's hit, how many sacrifices he's made. God bless him. I hope
he never loses a tournament. Be OK with me. Plus, he's an awful
nice young man.”
Woods used to be vilified for his occasional
cursing and club-slamming explosions. Now such episodes are glossed
over, attributed to intensity. Even his October criticism of PGA
Tour commissioner Tim Finchem and tour marketing practices, while
largely judged as selfish in the court of public opinion, received
near-unanimous backing from his peers.
“I wouldn't say he was out of line,”
reasons veteran Fred Couples. “He's made purses go up, ratings
go up. People say Tiger has increased interest in the tour tenfold,
but it's more like 10,000-fold.”
There is little question that the Williams
sisters' emergence has increased interest in women's tennis, arguably
beyond that of the men. But while the Williams' peers grudgingly
acknowledge the sisters' athleticism and fan popularity, rarely
if ever are they described as credits to the sport.
If anything, Richard and his daughters evoke
open disdain. During last year's U.S. Open, Davenport and Martina
Hingis revealed that they had formed a competitive alliance against
Venus and Serena — though they later attempted to downplay
it.
Davenport, however, left little doubt about
her feelings after losing to Venus in the Open final. Richard
had climbed down from the family box to do a victory dance on
the court, but Davenport said she paid no attention.
“I always turn my head,” she said.
“Better not to see how they act.”
Unlike Tiger, Venus and Serena haven't earned
slack from their peers. Perhaps it is jealousy, tennis' bratty
side rearing itself. Or perhaps the sisters are merely products
of the “Y” generation. As in, “Why should I care?”
As Serena put it during the U.S. Open: “I'm
sure a lot of people never want to see an all-Williams final.
It's going to happen in the future, inevitably. Nobody's going
to be able to stop it.”
Maybe Woods simply has had more time to
mature. He turned 25 Saturday, and he had the benefit of attending
Stanford until he turned pro during his junior year.
Maybe, as Earl says, it is a matter of upbringing.
Or maybe the chasm between Cypress and Compton is far greater
than 20 miles would suggest.
Richard Williams declined repeated interview
requests for this story over a three-week period. He has been
unusually quiet in recent months, even during Venus' momentous
Reebok announcement.
Last month's news wasn't all favorable for
the Williams family. The South Florida Sun-Sentinel
reported that, according to police records,
officers had responded to domestic-violence calls to the Williams
home in 1997 and `99. Richard issued a statement saying wife Oracene's
injuries were incurred in a jet-skiing mishap, adding, “God
knows everything. I'm going to heaven.”
Tiger's parents, Earl and Kultida, quietly
separated several years ago. But any comparisons between Tiger's
and the Williams sisters' upbringings end quickly.
Earl and Kultida reared Tiger in a middle-class,
Orange County neighborhood. Richard and Oracene raised Venus and
Serena in the inner-city neighborhood of Compton, a drug- and
gang-torn place that Richard has called “the worst ghetto
in the world.”
Tiger's story is well-known. Born to a father
who is half-black, one-quarter American Indian and one-quarter
Chinese and to a Thai mother, he grew up in the spotlight's glare.
At age 2, Tiger appeared on The Mike
Douglas Show and putted for the host and
guest Bob Hope.
Tiger had access to junior instructors,
fairly manicured city courses and — the better and more accomplished
that he became — American Junior Golf Association tournaments
around the country. He recalls, as a young teen, playing in 45
events one summer.
The path that Venus and Serena took was
starkly different. Richard, the son of a single mother who cleaned
schools and worked as a sharecropper, moved from Shreveport, La.,
to Los Angeles after high school.
He worked at a bank and a department store,
then started a cleaning company.
When he and Oracene began having children,
Richard increased his income by buying and selling homes with
no money down.
Richard knew almost nothing about tennis.
But after watching a women's tournament on TV and noting that
the winner received $30,000, he bought tennis books and videos
and taught himself to play.
Venus was 4 then. Richard began taking her
to a tennis court at a park in East Compton.
Actually, to call it a “court”
was stretching the imagination. Leland Hardy, a family friend
since Venus and Serena were 7 and 6 and now financial adviser,
jokes that they nicknamed the court “East Compton Hills”
because there was a mound of dirt nearby.
“We used to train out there six, seven
hours a day,” Hardy says. “There were always the winos
and thugs in the park. We used to go out and sweep the broken
glass from the courts before they would practice.”
Hardy recalls the broken-down Volkswagen
bus that Richard drove. He remembers Richard buying used balls
from area country clubs for 10 cents each. The balls, being slightly
deflated, required the girls to hustle more to reach shots.
Richard put his daughters through mock interview
sessions. Even when the girls were pre-teens, Richard and Hardy
were planning how to market them.
Venus, much like Tiger, earned national
attention as a junior player. But in 1991, when Venus was 11,
Richard pulled Venus and Serena from the junior ranks and moved
the family to Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
There, the girls trained with an academy
instructor, Rick Macci, for 31/2 years — no junior tournaments,
no competitive matches, just practice. That simply isn't the way
that tennis champions are produced. The tennis establishment and
media roundly criticized Richard.
“It's like saying, `We'll build a car
without an engine,' “ TV analyst and Boston Globe
reporter Bud Collins said in 1997. “This
noble experiment certainly ought to fail. But if it doesn't, it
would be a tremendous lesson for everybody and I'd say, `Hallelujah.'
“
Now Richard's daughters appear to have proved
his point. In a sport that produced teen burnouts such as Andrea
Jaeger, Tracy Austin and Jennifer Capriati, the Williams girls
are blossoming at 19 and 20. Even now, Richard drastically limits
the number of tournaments that Venus and Serena play.
And while some star tennis players never
bother to earn high school degrees, the Williams sisters graduated
with near 4.0 averages and plan to earn college degrees.
“I think he's a genius,” Hardy
says. “ `Delightfully eccentric' would be the adjectives
I would use to describe him. I think every madness to his methods
have been proven over time.”
Earl certainly would never call Richard
a genius, but even Tiger sees that there is some proof in Mr.
Williams' pudding.
Tiger says few parallels can be drawn between
his rise and that of the Williams sisters, but the bottom lines
have similarities.
“They were kept out of playing, and
that wasn't the case with me,” he says. “But as far
as support, I think my father loves me and has supported me; their
father has supported them — in different ways, but the love
is still there.”
Tiger says he has talked to Venus only once.
While at Stanford, he drove to Oakland, Calif., to watch 14-year-old
Venus play in her first professional match — a victory over
then-No. 59 Shaun Stafford.
“I'll never forget meeting her,”
Tiger says. “I had to look up (to the 6-1 Venus). That was
kind of unusual in itself.
“I think what ... (the sisters) have
done is fantastic, the way they have changed the perception of
tennis. How much stronger you have to be, how much more fit, more
power. Their impact has been absolutely fantastic.”
Venus, typically, is much coyer in assessing
Tiger.
“I don't really watch golf,” she
says. “It goes a little too slow. But that guy — he
seems to be a real winner, to say the least.”
Though they took different paths, Tiger
and the Williams sisters have reached similar destinations in
two senses: their statures as athletes and their adopted home
state of Florida.
Tiger lives in Isleworth, a posh enclave
near Orlando. The Williams family lives on a 10-acre compound,
complete with three practice courts, in northwest Palm Beach County.
But while Richard Williams remains an almost
daily influence in his daughters' lives, Earl Woods still resides
in Cypress. Earl has noticeably retreated from the limelight.
Health problems, including triple-bypass
surgery in February 1997, prevent him from traveling to many of
Tiger's tournaments. But he says his scarceness mostly has been
by design.
“The plan was close, personal support,”
he says. “And as he grew and became familiar with the tour
and his role and his position, to back off. Incremental back-offs.
It is now where he needs almost no support.”
But parenting, Earl is quick to add, never
completely ends. During a Tiger Woods Foundation clinic last spring
in Oklahoma City, Tiger approached Earl and said, “Pop, I'd
like to talk to you.”
Tiger had planned to build a large house
at Isleworth but wanted to let Earl know that he had decided to
wait until he got older, more mature.
Earl said his response was, “I think
that's an excellent idea. And it shows maturity on your part.
And I also appreciate you talking to me about it. That also shows
maturity.”
It's worth noting that Venus is 4 years
younger than Tiger, Serena 5 years younger. It remains to be seen
if and when Richard will begin “incremental back-offs.”
Will he again dance on the court the next
time Venus or Serena wins a U.S. Open? Will he continue to draw
attention to himself during matches by holding up signs reading,
“It couldn't have happened to a nicer family” or “I
told you so”?
Of all the boastful predictions and declarations
that Earl has made over the years, one phrase he has never publicly
uttered is, “I told you so.”
“You won't (hear that),” he says.
“I'm not that kind of person. I don't need to get vindication.
I was merely telling people the truth, how I felt. They took it
the way they are, not the way I am. That's OK.
“Now the story speaks for itself. History
is history.”
Maybe in 15 or 20 years, when their work
is done and their kids are through making history, Earl and Richard
can visit, break bread and reminisce about how they helped change
the course and color of golf and tennis.
And when the bill is placed on the table,
Earl and Richard can chuckle as they reach for their wallets.
(c) 2001, The Dallas Morning
News.
Visit The Dallas Morning News on the World Wide Web at http://www.dallasnews.com/
Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.
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