Page 17 of Breakpoint
That was the most Dani had ever heard Jaz talk.Andit was something personal. Everyone knew Jaz Mason was intensely private, and Dani felt she had somehow lucked into the chance of a lifetime, getting to know more about the person who kept her life closed off toeveryone. “Did Brandon play professionally, too? I know you turned pro pretty young, but I don’t remember them ever mentioning him.”
“No, but he wanted to. At sixteen, he dove for a ball, shattering his wrist on the hard court. His dreams were essentially shattered in an instant.” Dani could see the despair in Jaz’s eyes talking about Brandon’s injury.
“Holy fuck!” Dani grabbed her wrist, just thinking about the possible pain. She had fallen numerous times on hardcourts, and it was definitely unforgiving. The pain would sometimes radiate for days.
“Yeah, tell me about it. His dream was over, but he channeled all his passion for the game into me. He became my unofficial coach when I was fourteen, because we were obviously poor and couldn’t afford one. He would watch YouTube videos online, analyzing everything, then apply it to my game. I didn’t really know what he was doing. I was just a girl who wanted to hang out with my big brother because he was my best friend and the coolest person I knew. I never thought I would be good at tennis. Because I was standing beside Brandon, who was bigger, faster, and stronger than I was. But he saw my potential and knew I was meant for more.”
Jaz lit up again when she talked about Brandon. As an only child, Dani wished she had a sibling and a built-in best friend. Jaz continued, “So that’s why events like this are important to me. And one day I hope to start a tennis academy. But not somewhere exclusive in the middle of nowhere. In the inner-city, so kids can remain with their families and support system while also playingtennis.”
“Wow, that’s awesome. Why don’t you talk about this more? Or you know, show more of this on social media?” Dani wondered.
Jaz’s wistful expression quickly went cold. “I may be Jaz Mason, but people usually only pay attention and care about black people when we’re singing, dancing, running, or jumping. I’ve learned that people aren’t really interested in the truth of your experience if it doesn’t confirm their theories about you. Besides, why do I have to? Why do I have to talk about all my interests or show my softer side? I’m just a woman who wants to play tennis.”
Dani quickly responded, hoping to get the happy Jaz of a few minutes ago back. “But it seems like you don’t even like tennis when you’re out there. You don’t have to look angry all the time, and can show yourself doing stuff like this. People will love it.”
“People will say I’m just doing it for the ‘gram and to make myself look better. Plus, what we just did is important, and I’m not doing it for publicity. Regardless of that, no matter what I do, I’m held to a different standard. I’m a black woman playing a mostly white sport. I tried to be what everyone wanted me to be, and it still wasn’t enough. I was too dark, or too brash, or too successful. I’m never rude or disrespectful—”
Dani cut her off and recalled the rebuff from Jaz at her attempt to make an introduction. “Umm, you were rude to me the first time we met and wouldn’t shake my hand?”
“A callus on my hand split and was disgusting. I wasn’t about to shake anyone’s hand. It was giving me issues, and I’m not about to discuss that with a competitor at a tournament.” Dani knew the wreckage that playing tennis and tightly gripping a racketfor hours did to your hands. It was often painful with hard calluses that required continuous treatment.
Jaz let out a long breath, like she was ready to get everything off her chest. “I'm just over people’s perception of how I should be and act as a woman. And it’s heightened being a black woman. Men in our sport who are all about the game, ruthless and obsessive about their craft, are praised. People talk about their killer instinct while I’m labeled a bitch. Or an angry black woman. Everyone thinks they know me because they can find random facts about me on the Internet, but no onereallyknows me. It’s gotten worse since social media with everyfuckingbody having an opinion. Since I don’t play by their rules and have my business out there in the streets, it’s even more scrutiny, and I’m never going to win. So I decided that I’m not to give a fuck and just gonna do me.”
Dani sat back and thought about it. Jaz had never been overtly mean, she was just focused the same way many of the men at the top of their sport were. And Jaz didn’t yell at, curse, or berate the chair umpires and officials like some men did. She just expected excellence from everyone around her and let them know when it wasn’t met.
“I get that, but can you at least just stop being an asshole to me?” Dani implored.
“I’m not an asshole. I’m just direct. And I know what I want and how you should do it,” Jaz shot back. Dani lifted her eyebrows as if to call bullshit. “But I guess I’m not good with change and when it happens I fall back on what I know.”
Dani was shocked that Jaz admitted to not being good at something. “You play professional tennis and are on the road forty-fiveweeks of the year, and a new city with different surroundings every week. There’s change all the time.”
“And because of that, I like to keep my routine and the people around me familiar and the same as much as possible. It’s the only way I can stay locked in and focused with everything happening around us.” Jaz took a deep breath and looked Dani in the eyes. “But I’ll do better to be a bit less caustic in my approach, okay?”
“I appreciate that. And I do wish I had your attitude to just say fuck it all, but at my level I have to play the game if we want sponsors and to get paid,” Dani lamented. She constantly worried about the amount of money coming in and going out. Thankfully, Jaz was letting them stay in her house for free, so she hadn’t had to worry about food or lodging for a bit.
“Kira always said that I could have more sponsors or endorsements if I were more congenial, but thankfully, I’ve made so much money winning that I don’t have to. And I want the kids we just left back there to see an extremely confident black woman on the court, who is great at what she does. I’m not going to dim my light and confidence just so others can shine bright.” Jaz looked her straight in the eyes as she spoke, “So I don’t have time for people or things that distract me from my goals. It’s messy and complicated.”
Dani challenged her again, “That’s easy for you to say, you’ve won more than you’ve lost.”
“Well, I’m one of the greatest,” Jaz stated plainly, like it was a fact. “When you’re great, you’re doing something that a lot of people can’t or won’t sacrifice for. I recognize I'm genetically gifted, and I’ve always been a winner. But I fully believe no one will work as hard as me and compete as hard as me. My mentality is more ofan edge than my physicality on the court. Yes, you’re going to lose more than you win, but can you take the ‘L’, learn from it, and bounce back even stronger?”
Jaz was right, every week, everyone loses except the one person who wins the whole tournament. It was sobering to think that she was in a profession where, most weeks, she was considered a loser. “It’s just hard because in college, and even in high school, I never really lost.”
“You’re a professional now, and it’s a different level and completely different game. The desperation is different as people are paying for their livelihoods and putting food on the table. Mental toughness needs to be your strength, not just skill. You need to go out there believing there is no one out there who’s better than you,” Jaz stated confidently. “I’m sure your parents clued you into that, being you had a blueprint from them.”
It was the first time that Jaz had really mentioned her mom and dad. It was often the first thing people brought up upon meeting Dani, but Jaz didn’t really seem to care that she was “tennis royalty.” Maybe because Jaz was in the echelon of greats with them and wasn’t star-struck by other tennis superstars.
“My parents, namely my mom, don’t support my tennis career,” Dani whispered softly with an exhale of emotion, embarrassed to be saying that out loud.
Words that Dani hadn’t told anyone else. She didn’t know why Jaz was the first person she told. But maybe she felt safe in this black SUV riding down the Florida highway with Jaz. Plus, she also knew in the back of her mind that Jaz would never say anything to anyone.
Jaz turned to her, eyes soft, but said nothing or asked questions, allowing Dani to drop it at that or say whatever she wanted.
“Lots of people don’t understand how Daniela Kappas can’t afford the best of everything in tennis. But my parents told me in high school that school should be my focus when I first asked to play on the junior circuit. I think she thought my desire would end there, but then I got a college scholarship to play tennis. I think they were initially okay with that because I was still in school and getting a degree. But when I dropped out after my sophomore year to go pro, shit really hit the fan. They essentially cut me off financially, and my mom told me if I wanted to leave school and be a professional, then I could figure out my career myself, like other adults.”
Dani didn’t realize how cathartic it would be to finally tell someone and get it off her chest. Not even her team, was aware. The bridge between her and her family, especially her mother, had been weighing on her. Chris didn’t know about it and was constantly asking her to do stuff with her mom. She bet Tom suspected because he was more perceptive than people gave him credit for, but he never brought her parents up. She never thought the first person she would tell would be Jaz, but wonders never cease.
Jaz nodded, with a look of understanding, and gave her a small smile that displayed that one dimple. “I think you are doing well for yourself, even without the support of your family.”
