Rachel Berry couldn't believe it. She was in Australia!
The seventeen-year-old New Yorker had decided to take the plunge and turn professional on the back of a very successful 2011 season, where she'd made the semifinals of Wimbledon's Ladies Junior Singles, been a finalist at the US Open, and won the Orange Bowl Junior Championships. Rachel could have stayed a junior player till her eighteenth birthday, but after consulting with her two supportive fathers and brand new coach, the young athlete had decided it was time to start competing against the big girls. After all, she would need to beat them if she were to fulfil her lifelong ambition of winning as many Grand Slam titles as her freshly retired role model Serena Williams.
This wasn't Rachel's first trip to the land Down Under, and she had thoroughly enjoyed her last trip to Melbourne where she'd gained some valuable experience playing in the junior singles tournament at the Australian Open. The brunette wasn't overly happy when she lost in the third round, but as the United States Tennis Association's chief of Player Development William Schuester had pointed out, a good player learned how to take losses in their stride on their quest for excellence. Now, one year later, the USTA had decided to give Rachel Berry one of the wild cards afforded to them as a fellow Grand Slam host, and she was going to give it her best shot!
Rachel stepped out of the tournament provided car, and gazed up at the Rod Laver Arena. To her the sport wasn't just something she was good at, it was an actual passion. She knew it's history well, and as a result, knew a lot about the man Melbourne Park's crown jewel was named after. She had caught a fleeting glimpse of the legendary champion around the grounds last year, and was hoping she'd get to go one better and actually meet Rocket Rod this year. She could dream...
Rachel was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of a throat being cleared. She glanced beside her to her coach Shelby Corcoran, who was smiling down at her young protege. "If you're done staring, shall we?"
Rachel shrugged, but smiled as she slung the straps of her tennis kit around her shoulders. "It's easy for you not to be overawed. Your name's already engraved on the trophy."
Shelby had been a top player during her day, and had won the Australian Open Ladies Singles titles in 1986 and 1988, along with the US Open title in 1987. Tennis historians were of the agreement that she would have won many more majors if her career hadn't been cut short by a chronic right wrist injury, but the player herself had faced her struggles with injury with a sunny disposition. A few years ago Shelby had been recruited to work with some of the USTA's most promising young players, and she had agreed to coach Rachel full time after being on hand to watch the youngster win the Orange Bowl.
"Twice", Shelby winked and led the way to the player's registration area. Rachel let her coach do most of the talking as she continued to pinch herself to make sure this wasn't a dream. Rachel Berry had wanted to be a tennis player ever since she'd watched Martina Hingis and Steffi Graf battle it out for the French Open title in 1999. Rachel's fathers, both huge tennis enthusiasts and above-average casual players themselves, were delighted in the interest their only child was showing the match. In fact, a picture of a young Rachel Berry practically glued to the match on television had a place of pride on the mantlepiece in the Berry home. The next day her dad, Leroy, went out and bought Rachel her first Wilson tennis racket, and as it turned out, she was a natural. With great hand-eye coordination and an obviously good sense for the game, it was only a matter of time before Rachel's parents signed her up for tennis classes, and the rest is history. Leroy and Hiram didn't blink when their ten year old daughter asked to be homeschooled so she could concentrate more on tennis, and agreed to her request after speaking with her coach at the time, who didn't hesitate to mention that the USTA was already keeping an eye on Rachel's game. Seven years later, Rachel was ready to start repaying their faith in her by doing one thing - Winning tournaments.
The registration process passed in a blur, and year's later Rachel would only be able to remember signing her name where she needed to, smiling for the picture for her player's access card (which she didn't know would also be the photograph used to introduce her player statistics on television), and taking pictures of Shelby with tennis enthusiasts that recognised her as they left the building.
"Is Brittany hitting with us this morning?" Rachel asked her coach, as they made their way to Practice Court No. 9.
Shelby shook her head in the negative. "She's had to spend some more time on the massage table for her hamstring. I wouldn't stress too much. Your opening Doubles match isn't till the third day of the opening week, so you two will have plenty of time to practice together. In the meantime, we've lucked out because tournament officials have put you on with Dellacqua this morning. It's a good way for you to get used to how the courts will play against a big hitter."
Rachel nodded in agreement, and slowed down her pace as she noticed the crowd up ahead. People were craning their necks and climbing on to bleachers for a better look at whoever was on there. Camera bulbs were flashing, the collective sounds of the accompanying clicks audible even a few meters away. Shelby didn't need to tell her charge that there was a top ranked player on there.
Moments later, the loud voice of Sue Sylvester carried to Rachel's ears even before the brunette could see who was on the court. The multiple Grand Slam winning American tennis legend and current super coach was putting the world's top ranked female singles player through what seemed to be an intensive forehand drill. Quinn Fabray's skin glistened under the blazing Australian sun and sweat dripped down her forehead as she whacked ball after ball down the forehand line.
"Faster, faster! C'mon Fabray, move your legs! That's better. Precision is key. The thread must pass freely through the eye of the needle!". Sue looked up, and caught sight of Shelby as she and Rachel passed by. She nodded her head in acknowledgment of her fellow former player and now coach, before turning her attention back to Quinn.
Rachel watched Quinn pound a forehand down the line and immediately get back into position to hit another one. In the background sat Quinn's father Russell, his eyes following his daughter's every move. She watched the best player in the world hit another winner before turning her gaze forward on her journey to her own practice session.
'There's much work to be done' she thought, preparing herself for what lay ahead.