In an Australian Open that was full of surprises, a healthy Maria Sharapova showed that she's stronger than ever, and Novak Djokovic dismissed -- and dissed -- the Mighty Federer

Her shoulder healed, Sharapova displayed her old power. Jason O'Brien/Action Images/Icon

They call it the Zone. It's that mystical state most athletes are lucky to achieve a few times in their careers. The mind is cleansed. The body is free. The unity of time and space comes undone. Brilliance is elevated to perfection.

Tennis players taking up occupancy in the Zone can guide the ball as if they've sent it to obedience school. The lines on the court -- targets just a few inches wide -- appear as vast as Montana. The ball expands to the size of a melon and seems to be moving in slow motion. The figure on the other side of the net feels less like an opponent than a collaborator.

Like most Zen-ish concepts, the Zone resists easy explanation. "It's like you're playing in your own bubble and you never want to come out of it," suggests Russia's Maria Sharapova. "It's like a video game," shrugs France's Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. "If you need an ace, you fire an ace." Serbia's Novak Djokovic echoes this: "It's playing in a dream. Like you cannot miss even if you tried."

These testimonials are based on recent experience. In an Australian Open that -- like the local bathwater spinning counterclockwise in the drain -- spun counter to everyone's expectations, Sharapova, Tsonga and Djokovic blazed through their draws, making tennis at its highest level resemble a Wii game. The event was marked by matches ending close to dawn, a new Plexicushion court and the uncharacteristically mortal play of Roger Federer. But ultimately it will be recalled for the magic that came from the winners' rackets.

Sharapova's time in the Zone was unexpected. The Florida-based Russian appeared to have regressed in 2007, mostly because of chronic bursitis in her right shoulder, which dulled her serve and as a result exiled her from the top five. But for all of Sharapova's endorsements and global fame, she is nothing if not a jock. Even when injured, she worked out maniacally, adding bulk to her lithe frame, potential modeling contracts be damned. And when she finally got healthy, she worked feverishly with her coach, Michael Joyce, to get her game back to where it used to be, grinding through two-a-day practices in the off-season while other players were poolside.

Sharapova arrived in Melbourne as the fifth seed, and the draw gods presented her with a disguised blessing. Her second-round opponent was Lindsay Davenport, the former No. 1 player who retired after 2006, gave birth to a son last summer and then returned to the circuit in September. Pitted against a potentially dangerous opponent so early, Sharapova immediately "locked in" (her term) and sharpened her focus. In less time than it takes to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Sharapova dismissed Moms Davenport. And, suddenly, she was in tennis nirvana.

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