Zheng Qinwen, the brightest of China’s growing ranks of tennis luminaries, was 7 years old when he first picked up a racket.
Almost immediately, he was among the prettiest kids his age in his hometown, Shiyan, a smaller city by Chinese standards of 1.1 million people. He loved the sport, and after two months he and his father traveled to Wuhan, a few hours’ drive away and with a population of more than 11 million people, to show his game to a more advanced coach. The opportunity thrilled him, and he read the compliments.
His father, however, left out one detail, which he learned only after the pressing session. Since she did so well, she will not go home with him and will instead stay in Wuhan to train.
“I cried a lot,” Zheng, 20, said in a recent interview.
The situation improved a bit when his family rented an apartment in Wuhan and his grandparents took turns taking care of him. But every two weeks when her parents visit, she begs them not to come.
The memories of those days remain painful. Being a sensational sport in China, where it is common for young children to grow up in sports academies and spend long periods away from their families from a young age, is not for the faint of heart. In Zheng’s case, suffering somehow pays off in court.
Zheng, ranked 23rd in women’s singles, has competed in four matches at the US Open and is getting better with each one. On Monday night he beat Ons Jabeur, a three-time Grand Slam tournament finalist, for one of the best wins of his career. On Wednesday, she will face Aryna Sabalenka, who will be world No. 1 when the new rankings come out Monday, in his first career major quarterfinal.
Zheng and every young Chinese player have a unique burden on the tennis court, especially now. Their generation came of age as part of the tennis boom that Li Na and, to a lesser extent, Peng Shuai, created in the country. Both, especially Li, who became the first person from China to win a Grand Slam singles title, were groundbreaking figures, inspiring countless children in China and the Chinese diaspora to pick up tennis rackets. With more than a billion people, China is thought to be in prime position to become the next great tennis power.
While that has yet to happen — although earlier this year Wu Yibing became the first Chinese player to win an ATP title — Zheng has been one to watch for several years now. After nearly three years in Wuhan, he moved to Beijing, to train at an academy run by Carlos Rodriguez, who taught Li, his tennis idol. He also caught the attention of the same agency that represented Li and earned the opportunity to move to Barcelona to train with the sport’s top rising stars and be closer to the world’s most competitive junior tournament.
This time, her parents thought it was too far for their daughter to travel alone. His mother decided to move in with him while his father stayed in China, and his mother has been with him most of the time since then. He turned professional at age 15, and began an almost steady climb through the ranks.
At last year’s French Open, she appeared on the verge of a breakthrough, winning the opening set of her match against top-ranked Iga Swiatek before succumbing to menstrual cramps. But then his progress seemed to stall.
This spring, his management team contacted Wim Fissette, a Belgian known as one of the top coaches in the game. Fissette has previously worked with numerous Grand Slam singles champions, including Kim Clijsters, Simona Halep, Angelique Kerber and Naomi Osaka.
In Zheng he saw an explosive, athletic player, but a girl who still seemed raw. He did some due diligence and found that he had a reputation as a hard worker who was very ambitious.
“A really interesting project where you can, like, really develop a player,” Fissette said of Zheng on Tuesday.
It’s early days. They are still trying to get to know each other and gain the other’s trust. Fissette said the task was quite difficult for Zheng because his parents spoke limited English. Because of this, learning more about what slows Zheng down, although he says he quickly learned that he is quite funny, and also loves karaoke. At times he may seem as serious about that as his tennis.
Although Zheng has begun to employ some of the trademarks of Fissette’s previous charges, playing with more offense and aggression. He said he often reminds her that players are rarely as aggressive as they think. Be the one to dominate the game, he tells her, the champion is almost always the one who does dominating, not the one who is being defensive.
“You don’t just wait for the enemy to miss,” she said.
Twice in this tournament, Zheng blew a set lead. He knows why. His mind starts to wander to the end result instead of focusing on the point he is going to play. Sometimes it takes losing a set to bring him back to the present.
After Wimbledon, where, still struggling to figure out how to play on grass, he lost in the first round, he rested for 10 days and traveled to China to see his relatives, most of whom he had not seen in a year. and a half. His life had many such.
She loved New York, especially the drive from the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Queens back to Manhattan, overlooking the skyline. He spent the morning walking in Central Park, amazed that he could enjoy the quiet of nature in the middle of the metropolis.
“Suddenly all the noise of the car disappeared,” he said.
He was alone for this trip, with his parents gone. This time, he said, he is embracing the time without them, the opportunity to make decisions for himself, something he still needs to work on. For a long time people were making big decisions for him. Now he was ready to try it for himself.
“I’m at this age, at this moment, when I’m pretty comfortable with myself,” he said.