I've translated this interview myself from German Stern magazine which I bought. I promised to do that in another thread before, because I think it's a great interview and so I wanted to share it with you, so here you are. Since I'm one of the very very few German native speakers on SS I knew it's on me. :lol: I hope everything makes sense. If not, feel free to give me a hint or correct me.
“I love it when there’s something on the line”
by Mathias Schneider, Stern Magazin
At age 7 to a foreign land, at age 17 on top – today, Maria Sharapova is the most iridescent brand in the tennis world. An interview about the sacrifices of her childhood and the hardships in her career.
An unimposing private house in a back street not far away from the most popular tennis club in the world, the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club in Wimbledon. Huge hedgerows reach from the ground to the terrace on the first floor. There’s a huge table in the open living room, a dozen people could dine here.
Sharapova fetches a bottle of water and two glasses, I was said to have a seat in the garden. No PR-guy far and wide unlike in pro football. Instead the invitation: ‘Ask whatever you want.’ She speaks softly with a lot of self-mockery often interrupted by a laugh. But most of all surprisingly open.
Miss Sharapova, the first time I saw you at Wimbledon was 13 years ago. You were a 15 year old girl back then and played the junior competition. Even then incredible dogged. Where does that drive come from?
When I came to Nick Bollettieri’s tennis academy aged 8, I never was the strongest. I never was the most popular. I knew I had weaknesses. That challenged me, that attitude shows in my game up to the present day. I always loved the feeling when there’s something on the line; when there was an older player over there I had to beat.
You left Russia aged 7 only with your dad to go train to Bollettieri. Your mother didn’t get a visa, you didn’t see her for 2 years, talked to her rarely. Your parents staked everything on the tennis card. That must have felt overbearing.
They both never made me feel like that. I’m sure they were frightened if everything would work out. But what my parents knew was that they could have had their life at home in Sochi back anytime and that they’ve had a good life there. My mother had me at a young age, she was still attending school. My father worked in the building sector. Both had a small apartment and were happy. They were never afraid of going back to their life.
You left your home, your mother – everything for your tennis career. That must have put enormous pressure on you.
I never felt like that. Never.
Who compensated the absence of your mother in these two years?
No one. I definitely lost a female attachment person during these two years. No doubts about that.
People who know you claim that your toughness in competition comes from your father’s side and you’ve got your caring side from your mother. Have you ever turned off your soft side?
Yes, when I was separated from my mother, yeah.
Didn’t you regret this circumstance?
It was so strange, you know. There was this academy, a tennis factory. But unique too. I’ve had never seen something like that in my first seven years of life, how should I? I was in Florida, the sun was shining everyday – a big adventure.
Homesick?
Not a bit.
Really? Not a bit?
Okay, I’ve missed our Russian dishes. But else? In Russia it took us 20 minutes to go to the city by bus and an extra 20 minutes to the tennis courts. In Florida, I was living at the academy. The whole package was a dream.
Sounds like the perspective of an adult, not a child.
You know, we were very close to each other. But my parents didn’t take care of me that way (folds her hands into one another). 24/7. They gave me the chance to breath and develop freely.
Nowadays, parents put their children in a bubble of insouciance and care as long as possible.
I never had a lot of toys. I had my mother and my father. My barbie-life was running to my grandparents, eat some delicious food there, run to the fields and pick up strawberries. I have almost no memories on playing together with friends. My mother yet was very young, she didn’t really believe in the Kindergarten-concept. She took me with her in the early years. I went with her to the library, to school, I always was with her.
What did you miss in your childhood?
Nothing at all. Why should I sit here asking myself on how a life with barbies and a lot of friends would have been? Maybe more colorful, but where it would’ve led me? No idea.
Your father visited you at the academy…
…yes, once a week…
…and apart from that you were on your own?
Yeah. But I already spoke pretty good English at this time.
But you were in a foreign country at seven years old, at a boarding school…
…I was one of the youngest who wasn’t a full time student.
Such an environment can be quite a hostile milieu. Your agent Max Eisenbud said you were imperiled heavy bullying.
I was younger.
Means?
I was a younger girl that defeated girls on court who were 4 years older und boys who were 3 years older.
How did they show their antipathy?
There were always six kids in a common room. Back then it was popular to have a big poster hanging on the wall with all names on it and then paint hearts all around. Like, we are best friends. There was a new mark everyday but my name was never on it. Like that.
Did you have someone by that time who was your tower of strength?
If anything, my father maybe.
Who was said to be demanding.
He had a me-against-the-world mentality. People in the US didn’t treat him very nice. He knew he had a special treasure in me, but no one came up to him and said: I’m glad for you. The other parents saw him as a rival. He tried to raise me to a champion.
Was he relentless?
He was tough but fair. He called things as they are. That honesty is one of the greatest gifts I got from him. He was an example in so many questions of my life and still is today. Now his mother is ill and he makes the right decisions and takes care of her. He still is an important part of my team and strongly involved.
How often have you thought: I can’t go on any longer?
Never. And I don’t feel sorry for myself. A lot of people convey me with their questions that I had to fell sorry for myself, but I don’t feel like that. People shouldn’t feel sorry for me. There’s no reason for it.
Always standing your ground under those circumstances still must have been defining.
For sure.
In which way?
Learning to adjust. How I react to other people. To understand how people wanna benefit from you. Finding out if someone is a real friend. Even in my younger years it was a strength of mine to be able to analyze one person’s character. Deciding whom I wanted to allow coming closer to me and from whom I keep myself away.
Did you ever had the feeling of not being supported enough?
No.
Because you had the competitive gene?
I think so.
You never learned that?
It’s my belief that you cannot acquire that. You can work on that, but it’ll never be natural. When I pump my fist, I know that it comes from inside.
How tough is a defeat for you?
Since I had a shoulder injury in 2008 and after having surgery, I can cope better with losses. Of course there are differences depending on the occasion.
In Stuttgart at the Porsche Grand Prix in April you shed tears of disappointment after your loss against Angelique Kerber. That doesn’t seem like you can take a defeat easier.
The moments when you cry are the ones when you go back to the hotel and realize how much this moment meant to you. When I get the feeling that it doesn’t mean anything to me to lose, all that wouldn’t be special anymore.
How much does a defeat still influence your self-belief nowadays?
That applied to my earlier years as a pro. When I won Wimbledon at 17 I thought I could achieve anything, moon landing including. I suddenly was confident. Then I had the feeling to have to confirm that. Not easy.
Do you enjoy the game different now at 28 years of age?
I enjoy everything from the moment on I go on court till the moment I leave the court. Even my routines.
What do you enjoy?
The competition of course. When you train, you do that behind walls. In the cold, in the heat. What are you doing all that for if not for going out and playing in front of people who’ve paid for that?
What motivates you more: the match in front of a crowd or the fight against the opponent?
On court I pretend to be blinkered and don’t notice anything. I always used to do that, no idea where that comes from. Do I hear people whisper? Of course. Do I see what happens around me? Of course. But I’m so focused on the ball and the opponent that I’m in another sphere where I don’t think how great it is that people are applauding. That’s not my style.
Your game never shows fear not even in dicey situations.
Honestly, I don’t know why that is. I’m just starting to write a book, which I’ll hopefully have finished within the next ten years, because I’m writing damn slowly.
You write it by yourself?
Yeah, I want to. It’s fun.
Most people don’t do it themselves.
Maybe we have to take it with us into the coffin if we wanna read it. But of course I reflect and ask myself in this writing process how I found this fearlessness in my life and in my game. I came from a very down-to-earth family who taught me that everything I have, I have it because I’ve worked for it. And of course it’s deciding to be with the right people at the right time.
You’ve never played to win the favor of the crowd. Everyone who plays against you knows that you wanna win with every fiber of your body.
I can’t always think about what people whom I surrounded by say about what I do and what I say. I wanna stay true to myself and don’t move away from the things of which I think can help me winning the match.
Doesn’t it bother you to get booed?
It really doesn’t. That’s just a fleeting moment. What should happen? Nothing. And no one up there in the stands is gonna win the match for me at the end of the day.
Was there a moment when you knew that the whole career project was a success?
Never.
The first cheque?
I don’t even know when I received it. Money was always off the card in our family.
But you’ve had a small budget in your first years?
Back then it was normal to have a small budget.
Your standard of life changed with your sponsor deals. That must have been impressive.
That showed differently: Before I won Wimbledon, we used to live in Florida and flew to California to meet my coach Robert Lansdorp. We stayed at a hotel with a kitchen, which wasn’t located in the best neighborhood. And then we won Wimbledon, we drove from Florida to California again and this time we resided at a hotel at the ocean, not luxurious but nice. I still know that I found a rubber duck in my bath tub. I called my agent and told him that this was the best thing I’ve ever experienced. I left the window open all night and listed to the waves. That was a sticking moment.
Since 2008 your father is only seen sporadically in your box. Your mother travels with you but doesn’t even have tickets for the tournaments. They’re obviously not the typical tennis parents who are glued on their kids.
I know it’s not usual. I see it on the other players where the parents cannot wait to get their accreditation to be able to watch their kids. My mother is going to sit here in the garden and read next week and she’ll visit museums. She’s one of the most independent women I know. To be able to do that and not have the desire to be in the limelight – that’s great.
How do you define affluence for yourself nowadays?
It’s a feeling.
The current Forbes-list about the highest paid athletes…
…the biggest bullshit-list…
…definitely discloses you with an annual 29.7 million dollar earning.
I know people who have everything you can imagine. But if they’re not happy, I don’t consider them wealthy. Even though I’ve earned so much money that I can do whatever I want to, I don’t go everywhere by private jet. I’m totally involved in everything I do in a monetary aspect.
Are you aware of your account balance?
Quite accurately.
Your agent Max Eisenbud already planned in 2003 to build your name into a brand. Nowadays you’re exchanging up to 70 mails per day. You’ve incorporated in different business areas and created your own candy brand. Why are you so eager even in this area?
I think it’s interesting.
Also the competition in this area?
Oh yeah.
You’re with the tennis player Grigor Dimitrov for two years now, he’s also a world class athlete. How difficult is it for you to have a normal relationship?
You must know what you want. And you have to make the right decisions. It’s like with my parents: I feel guilty when I don’t see them for longer – shouldn’t I see them more often in this stage of my life? It’s the same with the relationship because it reaches further than the career. But I also wanna be the best tennis player in the world. What I know for sure is that you can’t be great in multiple areas at the same time, only okay.
What does that mean for your relationship?
It means that as long as I’m dedicated to wanting to be the best in the world, each of us has to accept that we have our own careers.
Can you imagine travelling with him one day like Steffi Graf did with Andre Agassi?
If I should decide to travel with him I definitely wouldn’t sit in the hotel and for sure not hang out on the practice courts.
Do you have a feeling on how much good years you still have on tour?
No. And I don’t wanna know.
The woman you beat 11 years ago is the favorite in Wimbledon again. You’ve lost your last 16 meetings against Serena Williams the last time in one of your best matches in Melbourne. What makes you believe you’ll be able to defeat her again?
(Straightens) I have to come up with the courage, passion and energy to make it even better.
Do you believe that you’ll recognize the moment when it’s enough and quit emmediately then?
I don’t wanna ponder when I get the feeling I’m on the finish line. Such a decision has to come out of me. I already know that I’ll be happy then.
Because it’s a solace to know you’ve reached your full potential?
Yeah. I couldn’t handle not have given it my all.