I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalleyin exchange for an honest review.
I have to admit that I have been a fan of Maria Sharapova’s since she won Wimbledon, beating the seemingly unbeatable Serena Williams, at the age of seventeen. And why “admit”, as though there were something shameful about it? She was, and still is, a great player whom the mass-media made into an instant celebrity because not only did she look like being very soon the best tennis-player in the world but she was also one-in-a-million beautiful. And what the mass-media create they are always happy to destroy again.
All right, in a sense the mass-media are simply agents of the Wheel of Fortune. Maria Sharapova had after all begun at the bottom.
Before opening this book, I knew about her injuries, how her shoulder had to be operated on, and how hard it was for her to work her way back up through the ranks with a different and much less deadly serve. But she did come back up, and won, among other titles and grand slams, the French Open. The sneering and contempt (Maria is finished, done for) became once again jealousy, pure and simple. Much of the jealousy based on total ignorance of her family background, the assumption being that she was a spoilt brat, one of the entitled daughters of the super-rich, in this case the post-communist Russsian super-rich.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Her father was a worker without two roubles to rub together. Quite by chance, at the age of four, little Masha (her real name) was noticed by none other than Martina Navratilova – a chance meeting if ever there was one! – when she was knocking a ball about with an old unwanted racket someone had given her father in lieu of payment. Martina spotted the fire, the determination, in the small child’s eyes as she swung the huge racket. “Take her to America,” she told Masha’s father.
And astonishingly he did. They arrived without a word of English, penniless and homeless. They had no one but each other, and for the next few years he worked as a labourer to pay Masha’s fees at tennis school and maintain some kind of home for himself and her in the cheapest posssible rented rooms. They even shared a sagging sofa bed.
After a few years, her mother finally managed to get a visa to leave Russia ans she joined them in the States. Masha began winning junior tournaments, things began to look up, and Maria – yes, Maria now – got a sponsorship from Nike.
In Unstoppable you will read all about the years of struggle and the years of success – and then the sudden catastrophic scandal: Maria Sharapova had been taking drugs!
The media immediately set about destroying her. Nor did they retract their lies (do they ever?) when the authorities declared publicly that Maria had never knowingly consumed any prohibited substance, and that the medication she was using (meldonium, which she had been taking for 10 years after her doctor recommended it for health problems including an irregular heartbeat) had been placed on the list of banned substances without her knowledge and was not, anyway, “performance-enhancing”. No, the mass-media left her body lying at the side of the road where they had deposited it after they crucified her.
Alone, now, she has got back up and, in the American Open a few weeks ago, unexpectedly defeated Simona Halep, the current World Number Two, before herself being knocked out in the next round.
But she is back playing against, and defeating, top-level performers. My heart goes with her!