Ready, set, go

Returns can see Clijsters drop into a full split

Kim Clijsters withdrew from the US Open on Friday afternoon. This piece was accurate at the time of going to press.

It’s not easy to find Kim Clijsters’ New Jersey home. That’s not necessarily a surprise. One would expect the US retreat of the world’s number-three-ranked women’s tennis player to be out of reach from the prying eyes of fans and paparazzi. But Clijsters isn’t trying to hide. Instead, her bungalow, on a winding street in a small town called Wall, is easy to miss because it is so average.

I had to circle back three times before finally identifying the right driveway when I visited Clijsters on a muggy Saturday in July. The house is undergoing major work, and after parking near a portable toilet for the builders and stepping over some construction equipment to reach the front door, I knock and am quickly met by my Belgian-born host, arguably the best female tennis player in the world today.

Clijsters is looking a bit rushed, with her hair up and an expression of slight surprise that I have ­actually shown up. She leads me into the house, which opens into a spacious foyer and living room with a cathedral ceiling. “Watch the shoes,” she says, pointing to a pile of pink and white children’s sneakers near the door. We have barely gone another step when Clijsters’ three-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Jada, storms towards the den with some friends in tow.

We pass through the large living room, where the Tour de France beams on a wall-mounted plasma screen TV. Outside, a team of ­workers is laying tiles around the empty concrete shell of a partly finished swimming pool. We move into the kitchen, the one area of the house that seems completely finished. With a large marble-topped island and shining stainless-steel appliances, it gleams in the midday light pouring in through the banks of bay windows facing south and east.

We sit down at a large wooden table, on which is arranged a generous spread of Italian food from Mossuto’s, a local restaurant. Clijsters has ordered roasted vegetables, salads, bread and healthy pastas. She goes straight for the bread. “It’s authentic,” she says. “That’s what I miss about Europe, the bread. Here the supermarket bread is like a sponge. It’s gross.” Asked what else she misses from home, she says: “I love white asparagus from Belgium. Where we live, we have white asparagus markets.”

Clijsters might have cooked had she not returned from New York City just hours before, having taken Jada to The Lion King, the spectacularly puppeteered Broadway musical, the previous day. Outside of the tennis court, the kitchen is her venue of choice. For this reason, the contractors finished it before the rest of the house. “I cook every day when I’m home,” she says. “I love wok dishes, with brown rice and a lot of vegetables. I do a big pot of soup every week.” As we finish lunch I move to rinse my plate. “Just leave it in the sink,” she says. “I’ll do them later.”

On August 29 Clijsters will begin the defence of her US Open title, which she won in 2005, 2009 and 2010. But even as she prepares for perhaps the biggest tournament of her career, she is ensconced in a picture of domestic normality. Yes, she is training and psyching herself up to defend at Flushing Meadows. And yes, it is a bout of preparation that has taken on extra urgency as she overcomes a spate of injuries and approaches her final seasons of peak performance. Yet in between physical therapy sessions, serve and volley practice, weight training and runs, she is busy cooking for Jada and her American husband, Brian Lynch, and playing foreman at the ­construction site she calls home.

Maintaining a top-tier body is a full-time affair

Winning the US Open would make Clijsters the three-time defending champion at Flushing Meadows. She would be only the second woman, after Chris Evert in the 1970s, to win three or more consecutive titles there. It would also make her the most dominant women’s player at the majors this year. Coming off last year’s victory at the US Open, she started this season with a win at the Australian Open, her first down under. She was ousted early from this year’s French Open, a wide-open tournament eventually won by Li Na, the first Chinese player to win a major. Then, just days before Wimbledon got under way this summer, Clijsters withdrew with an ankle injury. Wimbledon was another unpredictable tournament, and the ­women’s singles victor was Petra Kvitová, a ­relatively unknown 21-year-old. In early August, Clijsters withdrew from the Rogers Cup in Toronto after tearing a muscle in her stomach. She still plans to compete in New York.

A third consecutive US Open would establish her as one of the most dominant hardcourt players of her generation, and give her victories at three of the past five majors. “I’m feeling better,” Clijsters says of her forthcoming matches. “At the French Open I felt like I could move around the court.”

She deflects skilfully any inquiries about her legacy. Even in English, her second language, she can bat a nosy question back to a spot from which it is hard to return to the point. When asked about defending the US Open, she replies, “As a child I was very insecure, I always tried to please people. With tennis I was just able to focus on the ball. I still do that now.”

The most she will give away is that she still has an insatiable hunger to compete at the highest levels of her sport. “It’s those quarter-finals, semis and finals that make it special,” she says.

The US Open, however, will be perhaps the most competitive tournament on the women’s tour for more than a year. An injury-plagued field is expected to have returned to health, and Clijsters will have competition from the likes of Venus and Serena Williams, Maria Sharapova, and a new generation of fast, hard-hitting players coming on tour.

Clijsters is not willowy and lithe like the eastern European pros that have become the alluring face of women’s tennis. Instead, the 28-year-old is built more like Serena Williams, the American player who, with her sister Venus, has dominated stretches of the women’s tour for the past decade. With muscular legs, a forceful torso and long, strong arms, Clijsters has used her impressive physique to excel on court. Opponents fear her booming groundstrokes, and she is perhaps best known by the public for her acrobatic ability to drop into a full split as she reaches low to return wide shots.

Her sandy hair is packed into tight curls, framing a round face with big cheeks that amplify a mischievous grin. Her eyes, wide and blue, seem large enough to give her an advantage as she surveys the tennis court.

Maintaining a top-tier body is a full-time affair, and has taken on added urgency now that Clijsters is a mother. She avoids processed foods and is drawn towards homeopathic remedies. “I’m all about holistic medicine and healing,” she says. “We never had antibiotics at home, we always had herbal treatments.” To maintain flexibility, Clijsters practises yoga, and intends to install a yoga studio in the tennis academy she owns in Belgium.

With her husband Brian Lynch and daughter Jada, after winning the 2009 US Open

In the weeks leading up to a major, Clijsters works out five hours a day. She might begin with a run on a nearby beach, take a break to cook lunch for Jada and Lynch, spend a few hours doing weight training at the gym, then practise hitting on a nearby court. “I love training,” she says.

This gruelling regime is not Clijsters’ only sign of toughness. She has “Jada” tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, and a “B”, for Brian, where her wedding ring would be. “I’m not the most organised,” she says, by way of explanation for the tattooed “B”. “I always had to put [the ring] away and take it on and off for practices.” This way, ­nothing gets mislaid.

She also has a more unconventional means of ­staying fit. When I inquire about a series of bruises on both her arms, Clijsters tells me that she and Lynch often box together. “The couple that goes boxing together is very unique,” she says, explaining that they recently went a few rounds on their fourth wedding anniversary, just days before. “He said ‘Happy Anniversary’ when he hit me.”

To succeed at the highest levels of tennis, ­however, physical toughness is not enough. Winning a major requires the kind of mental mettle that few players can summon on a regular basis. Clijsters’ own record tells this tale. She competed in four grand slam finals before winning her first US Open championship in 2005. She played another four semi-finals before retiring in 2007. When she returned in 2009, Clijsters won the first major she entered; her second US Open title and the first of her current streak. Fans have taken to calling her “Comeback Kim”.

She credits her recent psychological successes to her trainer, Sam Verslegers. “He has very good ­techniques to keep the mind where it should be, without the nerves taking over,” she says.

She has also become better at dissecting her opponents’ technique, and adjusting mid-match. “What I love is when something bothers me,” she says. “I’m not the person that will let it all out, I will try to figure it out and find the ways to beat them. I love sitting on the side of the court and changing my momentum and the way I’m feeling.”

Just as her nerves on court have calmed, Clijsters is learning to deal with the particular stresses of motherhood. “You’re more worried when you have children,” she says. She is currently the only mother playing on the women’s tour, a distinction made all the more spectacular by the calibre of her play. She and Lynch travel with a nanny, but Clijsters remains a hands-on mother. “Now that I’ve been home with Jada for a couple of years, I realise how spoiled you are as a tennis player,” she says.

Clijsters in an outfit for the photo shoot

Clijsters is protective of Jada, and is playing fewer tournaments so that she can spend more time with her daughter. “This is my lifestyle now,” she says. “I don’t have the full schedule. It’s my choice to be home more often.”

Playing fewer tournaments has had a material impact on her standing. Even though Clijsters has been playing her best tennis in recent seasons, winning more majors than any other player of late, in recent weeks she has slipped from number two to number three on the Women’s Tennis Association tour. The WTA awards points based on a number of factors, including how many tournaments one plays in. As a result, a prolific 21-year-old Dane named Caroline Wozniacki is ranked as the best female player in the world, despite never having won a grand slam title, while Clijsters’ replacement at number two is Vera Zvonareva, another young face who has not won a major.

And while Clijsters is hungry for wins at the US Open, and next year’s majors, she has set her sights on another goal. She hopes to represent Belgium in the 2012 Olympics in London. “I wonder if it’s going to be easier or not,” she says. “I don’t know what the Olympic rules are. I don’t know how many rounds there are. There are a few countries who have a lot of girls now.”

. . .

As our conversation winds down, a photographer sets up in the kitchen. Clijsters disappears and returns in a new outfit. The shoot is about to begin, but Clijsters stalls. She has realised that she doesn’t have a watch from one of her sponsors in the house. “I never think of that stuff,” she says. “I’m supposed to put it on after I finish a match, but that’s not what I’m thinking of.” Clijsters’ mother-in-law shows up ­­30 minutes later with the appropriate watch, and the photo shoot proceeds.

Being famous is a sort of necessary evil for ­professional tennis players. Like most elite athletes, they didn’t excel at sport out of a hunger to be well-known. Instead, ­players such as Clijsters rise to fame by virtue of their on-court accomplishments. It may seem like an obvious distinction, but for someone like her, who shies away from the spotlight, it serves as a reminder that she is player first, celebrity athlete second.

“I’m not going to say the celebrity ­lifestyle is bad, but it’s not reality,” she says. “It’s a part of it, and once in a while it’s fun. But it’s not because I want to be on TV.” She wants to make it clear that “I play tennis because I love tennis, not because I want to be famous.”

But, pressed, Clijsters acknowledges that fame has its perks – she confesses that she was able to get her tickets for The Lion King through a ­connection at the US Open. And it also affords her the status, and cash, to fund charities, such as SOS Children’s Villages, which cares for orphans around the world.

With the photo shoot over, Clijsters readies ­herself for some on-court practice. I take the ­opportunity to chat with Carl Maes, a fellow Belgian who coached her early in her career and who this year returned to coach her for this final run. “I wouldn’t do it if Sharapova called me ­tomorrow,” he tells me. “But I don’t have to think about this.”

Clijsters, Maes tells me, has the opportunity to cap her career with an exceptional run and define herself as one of the great players of her generation. “This is only going to be a success if there are results,” he says. “We’re not doing this for ­nostalgia.” She re-emerges in navy blue shorts and a T-shirt, and white Fila shoes with “Kim” ­embroidered into the leathers. Observing the ­transformation, Maes says: “I think that she likes this outfit a bit better.”

We drive in a caravan to the Atlantic Tennis Club, a well-maintained but by no means luxurious club in suburban New Jersey. It’s a trip Clijsters often makes on her own, riding her bicycle the few miles from her home along a wooded bike path. Before hitting, Clijsters jogs around the court, then tosses a football back and forth with me, Verslegers and Maes. After a series of stretches to loosen her up and build strength in her ankles, Clijsters and Maes begin to rally on the blue concrete.

On court, even against Maes, Clijsters is a different woman from the mother in the kitchen. Returning practice serves she grimaces, baring her teeth with each stroke; she becomes a predatory player. “The footwork and the serve are the things you lose the fastest,” she tells me during a water break in the heat. “The timing of it all with the arms and the legs.”

She’s working, but she clearly enjoys the effort. “You can start playing for the wrong reasons,” she says, implicitly giving notice that so far, she’s avoided that fate. “I’m not going to chase points or prize money. As much as I enjoy playing tennis, that feeling of enjoyment or motivation can go away very quickly if it all becomes too much. I’m a mother and wife and that’s my priority. I feel like I can balance the tennis lifestyle with it, and if I can’t, it’s very easy to give the tennis part up.”

She’s not giving it up yet, however. Even as I leave to return to New York and the sun begins to set, Clijsters insists that she and Maes will stay on the court for another spell, working through the sweltering summer in a bid to be ready to defend her title.

David Gelles is the FT’s US media and marketing correspondent. To comment on this article, please e-mail magazineletters@ft.com