In Full Swing

Graf had a hand in that realization during the past few months—hitting with Capriati, inviting her over for a barbecue, gently encouraging her return. "She's so natural, so young, and she's a little bit naive—like I see in me a little bit," Graf says. "And I know she is capable of great things. Tennis will help her. Tennis teaches you so much. It does prepare you for life."

But it also can have a shattering impact off the court, as Capriati knows all too well. She has lost two years of what was once a superstar career, and she presented a warily hopeful face at Lipton. During that time her parents, Stefano and Denise, divorced. They were both on hand, and cordial, during Jennifer's postmatch gatherings, but the whole family now bears the aura of survivors. "I'm very grateful," Denise says. "Just to see her content, happy inside, is the most important thing."

Rubin, only 40 days older than Capriati, seems to have risen in the ranks with that inner contentment intact. She was raised in a household in Lafayette, La., that stressed education as much as tennis—her mother is a retired schoolteacher, her father a district judge—and even now her parents do not travel regularly to her tournaments. The family isn't defined by the game; four years ago, during her father's election campaign, Chanda, her brother and her sister spent a month going door-to-door, drumming up votes. After this year's U.S. Open she'll campaign again, for her father's reelection. "I've learned so much from her," says Freeman, 36, who played the men's tour for seven years. "She's so poised, so grounded, more than most people my age, that I almost resent her for it."

The ground under Graf is shakier. She plans to return to Germany for a visit sometime in the next week, and those close to her have said she is not expected to be a target of the ongoing financial investigation. "I'm not hesitant to go back," she says. "After having had a great couple of weeks away, I have the right attitude to approach it now." Her father has been in jail for eight months, during which time Graf has been allowed to see him only occasionally, with a guard standing by. Graf has little hope that he will be released soon. "No," she says. "It doesn't look like it." She has no time, no use, for deciding whom to blame for her father's plight. "I can't judge it," Graf says. "I don't want to judge it. I don't want to judge it, because it is too difficult." Better to concentrate on her forehand, her slice, her serve—so easy to understand and as dependable as daylight.