Wouldn't you know: I haven't played Elise in singles in nine years, we room together for the first time, and we have to face each other in the semis. It felt a bit awkward waking up in the same room with my opponent, but I always heard how Stolle and Emerson used to fix breakfast for each other before their Wimbledon finals, so Elise and I could manage before the Birmingham semis. She's not a natural grass-court player, and even though I struggled with my serve, I beat her four and two.
The highlight of the match came in the second set, when I blew an overhead. I forgot my head was still raised, and when I said a naughty word in disgust, you could hear it all over Birmingham. The umpire gave me a warning for an "audible obscenity," which it sure was, audible and obscene both.
"Well," I said to the umpire, "how else would you describe that shot?" The crowd broke up.
When we shook hands Elise said, "God, you're weird on the court, Pam."
I said, "I'm the same as always. You just haven't played me in nine years."
I called Don last night, and he made a few suggestions about my serve. So I went out today, served better, returned unbelievably and clobbered Betsy Nagelsen 6-1, 6-0. I've won 14 singles matches in a row on grass going into Wimbledon. Maybe I've forgotten how to lose.
And this, too: This was the first tournament I ever won when Don Candy wasn't at my side.
Today, Navratilova and Shriver did it—100 straight wins, the first time in modern tennis history.