Justine Henin-Hardenne needed lessons from the world's leading footballers, even possibly her fellow tennis professional Maria Sharapova, before pulling out of the Australian Open tennis final on Saturday. At least that might have helped her save face.
In a bold bid for glory in the category of worst exit by
a sports star, Henin-Hardenne walked off the Melbourne centre court to hand Amelie Mauresmo a title she was winning anyway.
To be kind to Henin-Hardenne, it might have been a lack of drama that let her down. She wasn't helped by a limp effort from the TV commentators who took this remarkable end to a Grand Slam final not so much in their stride, but in their afternoon nap.
This was the Grand Slam final which ended on a sick note without a sick note.
When Henin-Hardenne pulled the plug, she didn't look any more worse for wear than the average recreational jogger. Come to think of it, she looked a lot better than virtually every jogger you've ever seen.
When the eighth seed covered her head in a towel, it only suggested that she couldn't bear to contemplate what she had just done.
Mauresmo was left wondering how to celebrate her first Grand Slam triumph, which had come in just over a day's work. The sum total of her seven matches in this Australian Open was a few ticks over eight hours, with Henin-Hardenne her third opponent to cry off mid-match.
Given this, it should have been Mauresmo who felt faint, with shock, when she and Henin-Hardenne engaged in a 33-stroke rally early in the second set.
Instead, it was the Belgium woman who sat down to be attended to by the medical team.
One medic carried a back pack so big that any hitchhiker using it would end up doing far more hiking than hitching. Henin-Hardenne was also offered medicine from a bottle so large that it suggested an epidemic was about to strike.
She was disinterested in all of this, and vaguely pointed to her stomach while the commentators hinted she was buying time to reverse the Frenchwoman's charge to victory.
Two points later Henin-Hardenne strolled off, and Mauresmo was left wandering the court like a child lost in a mall.
A problem with this highly unsatisfactory end was this. Henin-Hardenne failed, miserably, to inject the necessary reputation-saving drama into the occasion.
She needed to go down with more of an obvious fight, and there is no shortage of teachers out there should she have needed a lesson in dramatics.
Footballers know how to do these things. At the slightest contact, they fling themselves to the ground and writhe around in grades of agony related to their penalty box proximity or the ease with which a defender has relieved them of the ball.
When the trainer arrives, the fallen hero lurches off the ground.
Early press releases, delivered within seconds, contain words like torn or broken or dislocated or ruptured. Henin-Hardenne needed to get something out quick - some of her breakfast might have helped, but in the absence of that, words like "ravaged by illness" would have helped.
Henin-Hardenne could even have taken lessons from the screaming Sharapova, who sounds as if she has only seconds to live every time she hits the ball.
Instead of that, Henin-Hardenne sat down like a mildly upset soul in a doctor's waiting room who is hoping for a certificate to keep the boss happy.
The commentators - whose informative yet unobtrusive work was a pleasure otherwise - were struggling.
Where's big mad Darryl Eastlake, the screaming skull of the commentary world, when you really need him? Eastlake can make a tyre change sound like World War III. He would have had a field day with this.
Instead, we got a lot of awkward silence from the match callers, who included the multiple Grand Slam title winner Fred Stolle.
Court side communication was non-existent. No one had a decent clue as to what was going on. Confusion is the mother of suspicion.
The minutes ticked by and someone mumbled something about being "mystified and disappointed". There was a very late reference to Henin-Hardenne suffering from a "tummy upset", an ailment that ranks alongside an itchy nose when you're evaluating a grand final quitter.
"There will be a medical announcement shortly," it was revealed, as if a bunch of lab scientists in white coats had stormed the commentators' box.
Now, days later, we're left to ponder how a seasoned and world ranked professional ended up gobbling too many anti-inflammatory tablets, and exactly the turmoil this caused within.
The sports yardstick for medical misadventure was set by American golfer Ken Venturi, who went into the 1964 United States Open with a choker's reputation.
On the 36-hole final day, Venturi - later an outstanding commentator - suffered severe dehydration-related illness around the Congressional course in Washington.
He had forgotten to drink any water before playing in searing heat. A doctor who followed Venturi fed him salt tablets, which made the situation worse. He even drank dehydrating iced tea in the break between rounds.
About the only thing worse that Venturi failed to do was strap a hot water bottle to his back. But Venturi stuck it out for a four-shot victory that has become a golf tale for the ages. Win or lose, he would have won.
There were actually fears for his safety on that 1964 day, a point where sport crosses dodgy boundaries.
The problem for Henin-Hardenne is this. On appearances, she didn't push anywhere close to those boundaries, not within cooee, to give Mauresmo the honour of winning with the ball in play and the paying punters their just reward.
The heat, her illness, the scoreline - they may have put a woman regarded as a fighter on the wrong thought track. A confused Mauresmo, keen to avoid controversy in her hour of glory, suggested only that nerves got the better of Henin-Hardenne.
Unfortunately for Henin-Hardenne, in the immediate aftermath of Saturday's final you were left with an overwhelming feeling that footballers aren't the only ones who take a dive.
HIGHS AND LOWS
High
* Promising times, by New Zealand standards, at the national athletics championships. The hopeless Knights drawing with table-toppers Adelaide - a miracle given their wretched season and mild relief for their fans, if there are any left.
Low
* The Australian Open women's final. When a good tennis player goes bad.
Justine Henin-Hardenne needed lessons from the world's leading footballers, even possibly her fellow tennis professional Maria Sharapova, before pulling out of the Australian Open tennis final on Saturday. At least that might have helped her save face.
In a bold bid for glory in the category of worst exit by
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