Roberta Vinci made a bold prediction. On the eve of the first all-Italian women’s final of the Open era, her winner-take-all US Open showdown with oft-Fed Cup teammate and former junior foe Flavia Pennetta, she really went out on a limb.
“One Italian will win for sure,” quipped the 32-year-old upset artist.
Only minutes earlier, Vinci, an unseeded, unheralded veteran whose best results have come on the doubles court, had pulled off perhaps the most shocking result in tennis history, perhaps sports history, an emotional come-from-behind, 2-6, 6-4, 6-4 dismissal of calendar-year-Slam-seeking world No. 1 Serena Williams. In doing so, she became only the third unseeded woman in the Open era to reach the US Open final.
As she sat behind the microphone in Interview Room 1, ROBERTA VINCI on a placard before her and only steps from the court upon which she had just scored the most headline-grabbing win of her 16 years as a professional tennis player, we were faced with the humbling reality that we didn’t know all that much about her.
Sure, we were familiar with her old-school game, her one-handed backhand and slice-and-dice arsenal; a charming curio reminiscent of a forgotten era of wood racquets, silk bandeaus and court-length dresses. Along with fellow Italian Sara Errani, she’d completed a career Grand Slam in doubles, twice winning the Aussie Open. She’d even made the singles quarters in Flushing Meadows in 2012 and 2013, the year she reached a career-high No. 11, a clay-court-bred European who could hold her own on cement. Her face even graces the back cover of the 2015 WTA Media Guide. You can guess who’s on the front. But it was only now, in this moment of immeasurable triumph, one she would call “the best moment of my life,” that we were really getting a below-the-surface glimpse of the woman who sees herself as “nice, clever, polite.”
“I feel good right now,” said Vinci, who in her last tournament needed qualifying rounds to earn a spot in the main draw. “I can maybe touch the sky with my finger.”
The daughter of an accountant apparently ignored her numbers against the heavily favored Williams. In her four previous encounters with the 21-time Slam champion, Vinci won a total of 21 games – and not a single set. Not that she came into the semis with any grand ambitions. In fact, she confided that she had already booked a flight home for Saturday, never fully believing that she would still be in the draw.
“I'm 32, almost at the end of my career,” she reminded us. “I didn't expect this.”
It was only deep into the third set against Williams that she began to believe that she might actually pull it all off. Up a break at 4-3, she said, her arms were shaking, the magnitude of the moment coming into focus.
“In my mind, I say, 'Don't think about this, because maybe you have more pressure. Stay calm, relax, and breathe during every single point. Don't think that you have Serena on the other side of the court.’”
Her arms would shake again when the match ended as she fought back tears and covered her face. Back home in Taranto, a coastal city on the heel of Italy’s boot-shaped peninsula, her parents were shedding joyous tears, too, making no attempt to hide theirs.
Asked to describe her emotions in her native tongue, Vinci searched for the appropriate word.
“Indescrivibile.”
Indescribable.
Asked for the biggest upset she could recall, she offered another one-word response: “Today.”
If we were looking for personality, we’d found it. She praised her opponent (“She deserved to win. She's the No. 1.”). She apologized to tennis fanatics who were hoping to see Serena make history (“I was a little bit sorry for this, because of me she cannot reach the Grand Slam.”). She joked that the next time she sees Serena in the locker room, she’ll hide her face. She professed her love for coffee, her weakness a good macchiato.
When she departed, off to rest and prepare for the biggest day of her tennis-playing life, her 5-foot-6 frame weaving through New York’s media throng, she almost seemed familiar face, as if we’d known her all along.
