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Australian star: a hug-hate relationship
Public slow to embrace No. 1 Lleyton Hewitt, who was knocked out of the Australian Open yesterday.
Australians tend to like their sports heroes in one of two forms:
There's the affable gentleman type - genial, hard-working, the kind of relentlessly cheery soul who reminds you of just how down-to-earth Australians can be. And then there's what Australians like to call the "larrikin." He, or she, of the wicked wit, a kind of anti-authoritarian and yet loveable rogue impervious to embarrassment. For the former, think Pat Rafter. For the latter, think Pat Cash.
But what happens when an Aussie hero rises to the top of the tennis world and doesn't fit either model?
That's the question Australians faced as they watched Lleyton Hewitt, the enigmatic 20-year-old who is now the world's top - ranked men's tennis player, make his bid to become the first Aussie to win the Grand Slam event in 26 years.
That bid failed yesterday when Mr. Hewitt, the top seed, crashed out of the Australian Open in the first round as the weight of the country's tennis hopes - and the after effects of illness - proved too much for him to carry.
"I'm not Superman, I can't do much about it. I did the best I could," Hewitt told reporters after yesterday's loss.
But if anything, Hewitt's loss is only likely to make the mercurial star's relationship with Australians even more interesting and the reasons behind its strange nature all the more fascinating.
Despite its reputation for lopping its stars down to size - as part of what is called the "tall poppy syndrome" - Australians do like their sporting stars to succeed.
But according to Richard Cashman, a sports historian at the University of New South Wales, there is still a lingering feeling in Australia that "Hewitt is a little different from anybody." And that has made for an uneasy relationship.
Australians love his - usually - winning ways on the court and the fact that he comes armed with a fierce patriotism, Mr. Cashman says. But Hewitt has developed a reputation for keeping the Australian public, and press, at arm's length. (During one promotional appearance last week reporters were asked to stay at least 15 meters away from him and all but one of his practice sessions ahead of the Open were conducted in secret.)
Hewitt yesterday defended his decision to go into a self-imposed isolation the past few weeks.
"I would like to think that I talk the truth, the whole truth the whole time," Hewitt said. "For me to come out and say 'yeah, I'm raring to go, I can't wait'... It would have been [wrong]."
But Hewitt has over his short career also become known for outbursts that can often leave Australians blushing.
"He's almost someone that some Australians are embarrassed about," says Cashman. "You like to focus on his tennis. But some of the things Hewitt says make you squirm a bit as an Australian."
The most controversial of Hewitt's outbursts came during a second round match at last year's US Open. There, he drew accusations of racism after he complained about the "similarity" between African American player James Blake and a black line-judge, who had twice made calls against him.
Hewitt later denied he was inferring any racial bias. But neither Blake nor the fans booing from the stands took kindly to the remarks. And so Hewitt's first Grand Slam win became a tainted one for many Australians, although Blake has since said he has forgiven him.
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