When Yao Ming’s ageing body forced his retirement from professional basketball in 2011, he left a 7’6″ (2.29m) hole – one that has yet to be filled. Li Na’s 5’7″ (1.72m) frame won’t be leaving quite such a physical void, but her absence will be felt just as much. The main difference, though, is that while China has not yet found another basketball player who can play consistently – let alone dominate – in the NBA, Li Na has been at the forefront of a tennis movement, and there are many players waiting in the wings to take her place.
It is impossible to predict which player will emerge from the crowd, but there are several contenders: Peng Shuai, like Li Na before her, is playing some of her best tennis late in her career; Zhang Shuai is hovering around the world’s Top 30; 16-year-old Xu Shilin just won gold at the Nanjing Youth Olympics; and there are others. When you consider that China has as many tennis players in the world’s top 200 as Italy – which was victorious in four of the last eight Fed Cups – it’s clear that there is both strength and depth in Chinese tennis.
It’s one thing to break into the world’s top 10, while it’s quite another to stay there consistently. But Li’s success has given tomorrow’s generation of Chinese tennis starlets the belief that they can do it, too. As Li wrote in her farewell note, “I’ve seen change happening in front of my eyes, young girls picking up tennis racquets, setting goals, following their hearts and believing in themselves.”
Someone is sure to emerge from the pack over the next few years, but dealing with the pressure and burden of the fame that comes with winning can be a shock to the system, as Li knows well. After winning the 2011 French Open, Li went into a funk that lasted for the better part of a year. Whoever is next to carry the torch for Chinese tennis will inevitably be badgered by comparisons to Li.
While Li Na made history on the court, her contributions off the court were arguably just as large. When she, and others, broke free from the shackles of the state-run system, it had an enormous impact on all sports in China, not just the tennis community. It meant she was able to pick her own coaches, choose her own schedule, and keep her own prize money. But while Li should get credit for driving this change, the risks taken by the Chinese Tennis Association and its head, Madame Sun, in allowing her to leave should also be remembered, and Li Na notably made a point of mentioning Sun’s trailblazing efforts in her retirement letter.
The support of the CTA remains crucial for young players today, but the flexibility now allowed means that decisions can be made for the benefit of the individual, rather than for the benefit of the country. In the past, that would have been unthinkable in China, but as Li Na has shown, more autonomy can translate into more success – and all of China has basked in her reflected glory.
Sadly, Li Na’s influence has yet to spread to men’s tennis in China. While Li won Grand Slam titles, on the men’s side, Wu Di was making history simply for qualifying for the first round of the Australian Open, and he only did so thanks to a new wildcard system that guarantees entry for an Asian player. U.S. Open finalist Kei Nishikori of Japan has exploded the myth that Asian men cannot succeed at the highest level, but, so far, no one in China looks likely to follow his lead.
In addition to encouraging millions of young girls to pick up a racket and get more involved in sports, Li Na has also taught other established Chinese athletes a thing or two. Whereas China’s Olympic stars dominate in diving, gymnastics and table tennis, they are often viewed internationally as robots: swap one for another and the result will still be golden.
Li, though, has shown the value of the individual. While never quite fluent in English, she has never been afraid to give honest interviews to global media, and her charming personality and sharp wit have endeared her to fans around the world. It is no surprise that she is the second-highest-earning female athlete in any sport, behind only Maria Sharapova in endorsements and sponsorships as brands have scrambled to get her as a spokesperson. That value will remain – as tends to be the case in China more than elsewhere, stars can remain visible and relevant long after they retire.
But perhaps the greatest winner in Li’s story of stardom has been China itself. Li has been criticized domestically for playing only for herself, while others overseas have portrayed her as a rebel who went against the establishment and won. But in reality, not only is Li fiercely proud of being Chinese and of the achievements she has reached for her country, but she is arguably the best global ambassador the country has ever seen.