A similar plot line has occurred with Serena’s older sister, Venus. Although her win over Mary Pierce Tuesday puts her in the semis with a pretty good shot to win the tournament, at the tender age of 25 Venus is regarded less as a dominator and more as a player who’s spent three years off center stage and will likely stay there for the balance of her career. In other words, she’s become a sentimental favorite. “It’s a shame,” says ESPN analyst Mary Carillo of the sisters’ eroding skills. “Athletes have only so many Sundays.”

Echoing Carillo, the legendary Billie Jean King says, “They haven’t wanted to pay the price.” To King, neither sister is willing to make the necessary upgrades to match supremely driven and talented young players like Maria Sharapova. Self-reliance and discipline are particularly vital in a sport where players are left on their own to improve their games. Serena and Venus are still coached by their parents (their father Richard learned the game mostly from magazines and videotapes), repeatedly resisting opportunities to gain input from others who might salvage their rather awkward strokes and confusing strategies. Their technical, tactical and physical limitations become more apparent with every match they play. “It’s harsh reality TV to watch Serena and Venus now,” Carillo says. “They had everything to dominate. They just didn’t take care of it. They created opportunities for themselves away from tennis — and decided to pursue them.”

Four years ago, Serena and Venus graced the cover of Time magazine. “The Sisters Against the World” read the headline. Their ascent was arguably one of greatest stories in the history of sports. From the ghetto of Compton, Calif., Richard taught them how to simultaneously hit the ball and hit the ground during drive-by shootings. Not just one but two girls emerged as champions in a sport long perceived as the province of the white and the wealthy (even if the great players mostly came from middle-class families).

Check out this stat: Not once in the 20th century did two sisters meet in the singles finals of one of the sport’s four prestigious Grand Slam events. But by the summer of 2003, Venus and Serena had played in six. As one of their rivals, Lindsay Davenport, noted, “It’s as if Tiger Woods had a brother chasing him in Augusta.” From Watts to Wimbledon, tennis braced itself for a revolutionary impact. Surely these two were the Messiahs who would rescue the sport for its sins of waste and elitism, deliverers who could simultaneously take tennis to the people and leave a legacy of excellence.

Fittingly, in our buzz-happy media age, once the sisters reached the top, their handlers preferred speaking of them not strictly as athletes or even celebrities but as brands, as if they were bars of soap that could simply be manufactured into prominence. Invariably, fame offered its perks. Serena most of all enjoyed preening. She made the scene at awards shows and movie premieres, bought a condo in Los Angeles, began to take acting lessons, started dating a film director, and spent less time in her interviews talking about tennis and more about her life as a star, her football picks and her sizzling Web site. Venus, less vain and visceral, more withdrawn, launched her own interior design company.

There’s a gene in tennis’s DNA that breeds confusion between the authenticity of competition and the artifice of commerce. As an individual sport, tennis often lives and dies on the crossover appeal of its stars. Barry Bonds can miss a whole season and fans will follow the San Francisco Giants. But tennis’s roots as an exclusive sport make it mandatory for top players to do more than let their racket do the talking. Pete Sampras, as accomplished an athlete as Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan or Wayne Gretzky, was often unfairly blamed for the sport’s eroding popularity because he allegedly lacked the personality the game needed to spark interest.

So even as the sisters’ talk of outside interests bordered on self-absorption, they were becoming the icons the sport needed. “I don’t know anything about tennis,” a grocery clerk told me a year ago, “but those sisters are sure kicking ass.” As long as they kept winning, who dared dispute the approach? “There is no single way in tennis,” says former world No. 1 Jim Courier. “That’s one of the reasons you play a sport like tennis. You want to show you can do something your own way rather than have some coach breathe down your neck.”

The Williams family brought individualism to new heights. After Venus, at age 11, spent less than a year in junior competition, Richard refused to let her enter a tournament until she turned pro three years later. Serena played even fewer junior events. That both were able to rapidly compete effectively in the pros was akin to a baseball player going from Little League right to the majors.

But now the Williams family’s tennis history appears less a sustainable franchise and more an interim boutique. Over the course of the last year, both Serena and Venus have failed to assert themselves with consistency or prowess.

Tempting as it is to cite their injuries as the reason for this, let’s take a keener look. These days, both tactical gurus and technical experts often watch the sisters in horror. Though both are superb fighters, neither appears too aware of the need to alter game plans or do much more than slug their way through points. On the craftsmanship side, each of them tends to muscle the ball, failing to marshal all of their body weight effectively. And inefficient stroking leads to the injuries that have forced both Serena and Venus to play fewer tournaments than have most of their peers. Where once their light competitive schedule appeared to keep them fresh, of late they’ve been woefully stale.

This rapid ascent and decline illustrates the peculiarities of tennis. In team play, peers demand excellence and commitment lest you let down the collective desires. A tennis player is deregulated, more team owner than member. Add to that the heavy layer of family involvement and the beguiling motivations that compel a father or mother to bring a child to a tennis court.

To Richard Williams, tennis’s appeal was illustrated one spring day in 1978. Watching TV, he saw a female tennis player wave a large check in the air after winning the French Open. Right then he decided he would try to sire a daughter who would earn millions. And, amazingly, his prophecy came true. His daughters came, they saw, they conquered.

At her post-match press conference Saturday night, a teary Serena admitted she was upset by her loss. But her father Richard was sanguine. “I never have liked tennis,” he told me, as we talked in a small hallway between Wimbledon’s press room and the players’ lounge. “It was the money I wanted.”

He got it, and while his daughters are richer for his desire, their pursuit of transitory fame over an enduring legacy is an unfortunate consequence of a sport where individualism reigns supreme.

Much has been made of Ritchie’s remarks today (let’s face it: How often do most journalists get to use the word “grunt”?). But grunting complaints are hardly new. In fact, grunting is a pet issue for the British press, almost as much of a go-to at Wimbledon time as strawberries and cream.

Last year, a Press Association report on Maria Sharapova’s loss to Serena Williams at Wimbledon declared that the Russian player “remain[ed] champion” in the “grunting stakes,” emitting wails of up to 104 decibels (compared to Williams’ more modest 91).

“Aircraft overhead and cheers from the crowd were at times drowned out by the pair during the pivotal first set tie-break,” the piece noted. (A study published later in 2010 claimed to present “unequivocal” evidence that grunting gives players a “real advantage.”)

In 2009, a Guardian article about the Women’s Tour Association’s stance on grunting noted that the WTA had long considered the practice a “construct of gnarled British news reporters armed with decibel-recording ‘gruntometers’” — pointing up the press’ seeming fascination with the topic.

Indeed, 2009 was a banner year for grunting controversy; that summer, BBC radio commentator (and former Wimbledon men’s singles victor) Michael Stich caused an uproar when he called grunting “disgusting, ugly, [and] unsexy” — adding that he thought “sex appeal” was a large part of what female tennis players “sell.”

In the same year, Martina Navratilova lashed out against on-court noisemaking (“The grunting has reached an unacceptable level. It is cheating, pure and simple. It is time for something to be done”), and the year’s most notorious offender, teenage Portuguese phenomenon Michelle Larcher de Brito, hit back:

“I’m not here to be quiet for anybody. I’m here to win. If people don’t like my grunting, they can always leave. … Tennis is an individual sport and I’m an individual player. If they have to fine me, go ahead, because I’d rather be fined than lose a match because I had to stop grunting.”

Before the 2009 tournament even began, the London Times had written of de Brito:

A 16-year-old Portuguese tennis player tipped as a future great, Michelle Larcher de Brito, emits a wail while hitting shots that seems to last longer than it takes the ball to reach the other side of the net. Sometimes her moans are loud enough to be heard three courts away. …

Tennis officials are now calling foul on grunting. The problem they face is determining whether a noisy exhalation of air is natural or done on purpose to put off an opponent.

Just over a week later, it had assembled a handy Q&A on “the main issues” about grunting at Wimbledon, since the topic had proved such a persistent talking point.

A Times piece from 2005 offers further back story:

Monica Seles [first] took things to a higher pitch in the 1990s, prompting British newspapers to measure the decibels on centre court. Seles registered 93.2 decibels, enough to make Jennifer Capriati scream “shut the f*** up” across the net.

Given grunting’s robust history of attention in the press, there’s no reason to assume we won’t be writing about it again this time next year. Until then, watch this clip for a sampling of Victoria Azarenka’s trademark vocal trill, and judge for yourself: Is it distracting? Is it cheating? Is it even “grunting”?

Navratilova had been assisted down Mount Kilimanjaro by porters and driven to the Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Centre for assessment after having to abandon her attempt to climb the mountain in Tanzania for a sport charity.

The 27-person climbing team Navratilova was part of has faced heavy snows and mist since beginning the climb up the 19,340-foot (5,895-meter) mountain Monday.

“I’m disappointed not to be able to complete this amazing journey,” she said in the statement. “It was something that I have wanted to do for so long but it was not to be.”

Navratilova, who won 18 singles Grand Slams, told The Associated Press last weekend that she has never climbed higher than 12,000 feet. She had reached nearly 14,800 feet (4,500 meters) when she was forced to give up after feeling unwell, according to the charity.

The Aspen, Colorado resident told AP she was “petrified” of failing to reach the summit “because then the whole world will know.”

Navratilova was climbing the mountain to raise money and awareness for the Laureus Sport for Good Foundation. The rest of the team will continue the climb and should reach the summit Saturday.

——

On the Internet:

Laureus Sport for Good Foundation: http://blog.laureus.com

“I think that it’s asking too much of the women,” he said. “They shouldn’t be playing as many events as the men. … You shouldn’t push them to play more than they’re capable of.” He added, “They should be required to be in less events, there should be less events for the women. It seems it takes an actual meltdown on the court or women quitting the game altogether before they realize there’s a need to change the schedule.” Presumably, he’s referring to Vera Zvonareva’s teary-eyed “meltdown” at Wimbledon in July and at last year’s Open.

As McEnroe well knows, though, women aren’t the only ones who have meltdowns on the court. And, while it may be true that a number of top female players have suffered injuries this year that have taken them out of the game for some time, Michael Joyce, Maria Sharapova’s coach, points out in the Times that “reigning U.S. Open men’s champion Juan Martin del Potro is sitting out the Open — and has sat out most of the season — because of a wrist injury and … Rafael Nadal was absent from Wimbledon in 2009 because of his own injury issues.” He also added this biting remark: “The game is a lot different than when John was playing with wooden rackets 20 years ago. It’s not only the women.” 

I’ll leave the core of this debate up to the experts — or, really, to anyone who knows anything about tennis (because I sure don’t). It’s interesting, though, to think about the differences in how we evaluate players’ emotional and physical capacity. It seems there is a tendency to either overreact to female displays of anger on the court, or to instead see these fits as emotional breakdowns rather than passionate, enraged outbursts à la, well, McEnroe.

That’s why I was surprised when a link to an accompanying video slide show titled “The Beauty of the Power Game” was forwarded to me by a co-worker with a note that he found it “kind of weird and creepy the way they glammed them up.” Having glossed over the slide show when reading the piece earlier, I clicked the link and started watching the first clip of Kim Clijsters. In slo-mo, she bounds into the frame, muscles rippling, and nearly goes into the splits as she brings her racket to the ball. She looks like a lioness on the hunt — long blond curls falling around her face, a sneer on her lip, her eyes narrowed with a singular, predatory focus. She is an awesome sight to behold. I think: What’s weird or creepy about this?

But then follow several more clips of various players, all in slow motion, with a swelling classical soundtrack. There is Serena Williams with her makeup meticulously done, her skin covered in glitter. She hits the ball and yet more glitter flies every which way. Elena Dementieva is up next wearing a bizarre strappy dress. She gracefully twirls in slo-mo, looking very much like a ballerina. Samantha Stosur’s arms look cut from stone, and her movements send mesmerizing ripples up her powerful thighs, but she is wearing a dissonantly delicate bandeau bra top (which prompted a friend of mine to comment: “Hello, nipples”) and a pleated lavender skirt.

I suppose part of the difficulty in fairly evaluating these videos is that we don’t do so in a vacuum. The common critique when it comes to women in sports is that they get attention only for being sexy, and that is especially true with tennis. But the Times didn’t toss Anna Kournikova in front of the camera in a teeny-tiny tennis outfit. These are truly some of the most powerful women in the sport, and they do challenge mainstream notions of femininity. (In particular, Williams, who has talked about past discomfort with her “super-curvy” body. Note, though, that she is one of two players who are filmed only from the chest up.) So, is it creepy or beautiful? A totally scientific poll of my instant-message buddies resulted in no clear consensus.

Personally, I find it to be a little bit of both. As a general rule, I’m not opposed to seeing female athletes as sexy or sexualized. That would make me quite the hypocrite, as I didn’t complain when Vanity Fair came out with its issue featuring male soccer players in their underwear. (Quite the contrary — I ran out and bought a copy the first chance I got.) Athletes’ bodies are in top form; they are exquisite and godlike. But the glamorous makeup and wardrobe — and that freaking glitter — in the Times slide show do seem a touch odd. As the co-worker who forwarded the link to me said: “The vibe seems to be ‘we will show you that female power can be sexy’ — which it can, of course. But then, they couldn’t just trust that — they had to add this other stuff, as if to say, well, it can’t be sexy on its own.”

It’s the first time since 2002 that Federer has failed to reach the final. Since losing in the first round eight years ago, Federer had played in the championship match a record seven consecutive times. He won the title six times and finished runner-up once, bolstering his reputation as the greatest player of all-time.

Winner of a record 16 Grand Slam titles, Federer said he was unable to play his best tennis Wednesday because of pain in his back and right leg.

“I couldn’t play the way I wanted to play,” said Federer, who had been chasing the record of seven titles won by Pete Sampras and 19th-century player William Renshaw. “I am struggling with a little bit of a back and a leg issue. That just doesn’t quite allow me to play the way I would like to play. It’s frustrating, to say the least.”

Berdych ripped a clean forehand winner on his second match point to become the first Czech to reach the men’s semifinals since Ivan Lendl in 1990.

“It’s really tough to show this crowd how I’m just feeling right now, it’s amazing to play in this stadium, to play such a great player as Roger is, and come here and be here as a winner is just really amazing,” the 20-year-old Berdych said.

Berdych will next face Novak Djokovic, who swept past Yen-hsun Lu in straight sets to reach the semifinals for the second time. The third-seeded Djokovic never faced a break point as he beat the 82nd-ranked Taiwanese player 6-3, 6-2, 6-2 in less than two hours on Court 1.

In other matches, No. 2 Rafael Nadal played No. 6 Robin Soderling, and No. 4 Andy Murray faced Jo-Wilfried Tsonga.

With the loss, Federer will drop to No. 3 in the ATP rankings next week for the first time since Nov. 10, 2003. Since winning the Australian Open in January, he has failed to win a tournament.

Federer said his leg and back have been bothering him since the grass-court tournament in Halle, Germany, the week before Wimbledon. He hadn’t previously mentioned any injury problems.

“When you’re hurting, it’s just a combination of many things,” Federer said. “You just don’t feel as comfortable. You can’t concentrate on each and every point because you do feel the pain sometimes. You tend to play differently than the way you want to play.

“Under the circumstances, I think I played a decent match,” he added. “But I’ve been feeling bad for the last two, three matches now. If there’s anything good about this, it’s that I’m going to get some rest.”

Federer was playing in his 25th consecutive Grand Slam quarterfinal. He had won 23 straight, but now has lost two in a row. Federer fell to Robin Soderling at the French Open earlier this month.

Federer had won 76 of 77 grass-court matches dating to 2003 coming into this month, but has now lost two of the past six, including to Lleyton Hewitt in Halle.

Federer was clearly outplayed Wednesday by a man who has always possessed enormous talent but often failed to live up to expectations.

The 6-foot-5 Berdych was on the offensive for most of the match, smacking first serves consistently in the 130s mph (above 210 kph), winding up to rip forehand winners and not buckling under pressure. He hit 51 winners, compared to 44 for Federer.

“He played well when he had to,” Federer said. “It was brutal for me. Every time he had a chance, he took it. On the break points, he played great on those. … When I did have chances, I played poorly. It was just a frustrating match the way it all went.”

Berdych broke Federer four times, with the final break coming in the seventh game of the fourth set. Berdych served 12 aces, was broken just once and saved seven of eight break points.

Federer came in with an 8-2 career record against Berdych, having lost the first match at the 2004 Athens Olympics and the last in Miami this year.

“I don’t think I played poorly,” Federer said. “I think he went after it. I know Berdych. I think I’ve played him 10 times already before. That’s the way he plays.

“I think he’s been able to play more consistent last year or so, and I was just not able to defend well enough and I didn’t come up with the good stuff when I had to. It was disappointing.”

Lu stunned three-time finalist Andy Roddick in the fourth round, but couldn’t replicate that performance against Djokovic, the 2008 Australian Open champion.

Djokovic lost just 12 points in 13 service games. He won 26 of his first 28 service points, including 15 in a row. The Serb had 29 winners and 17 unforced errors, and converted five of 15 break points.

“Nothing is easy these days, especially at this stage of the tournament,” Djokovic said. “But the way I played, I deserved to win. I was hitting all the shots and I was really playing very solid from all parts of the court. I’m very, very happy with the performance today.”

Djokovic reached the semifinals here in 2007 but had to retire against Rafael Nadal with a foot injury while trailing in the third set.

“This time physically I’m fitter,” Djokovic said. “Those were very strange conditions and circumstances. I had to play three very long matches in three days and couldn’t hold on in the semifinal. This time everything is in order and I’ll give my best.”