The Other Side of the Net : Martina Navratilova Retired, but Other Rackets Keep Her Busy

By JULIE CART

May 7, 1996 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

Outside, it’s 90 degrees in the shade of a low-slung stretch limo but inside Martina Navratilova, bathed in lights and queen-beeing in a swarm of drones, is cool.

They have come to touch the hem of her garment or some such, to get an autograph, to bathe in some of Navratilova’s strength or integrity, or who knows what.

They have come to the L.A. Convention Center, which is playing host to the National Cable Television Assn. convention and has been internally transformed into a high-tech carnival. The Disney Channel has constructed a fairy castle with power-suited executives perched awkwardly on turrets. And to reach the Discovery Channel’s meeting rooms, it is necessary to negotiate a “jungle” stocked with stuffed animals.

The convention affords cable channels the opportunity to woo the nation’s cable operators. Heavy schmoozing is the order of the day. The idea is to trot out your biggest celebrity, haul him or her up on a platform, and wave your arms to get attention. Draw them in and sell the product.

In a vast hall of lacquered hair and capped teeth, Navratilova’s clean-scrubbed face appears almost wholesome by comparison. She has been put behind a desk, and in the background is a wall of video monitors on whose flickering screens flash the greatest moments of her tennis career.

Today Navratilova is pulling double duty. She is making this appearance on behalf of HBO Sports, an employer, and she is flogging her second book of fiction, “Breaking Point.”

Her drawing power is impressive. In fact, the foot

traffic is causing gridlock in front of the neighboring celeb. Martina’s line is blocking access to the stop-and-chat session with E! Television’s Eleanor Mondale, daughter of Walter Mondale, the former vice president who now is U.S. ambassador to Japan. Mondale, in her flared hip-huggers and white patent leather platform shoes, lounges in a chair unperturbed and will later exchange greetings with Navratilova, whom she knows well.

The wait to get to Navratilova is 15 minutes. People in line content themselves with perusing the book, which features a small photograph of its author on the cover, looking over her shoulder and half smiling behind sunglasses. A small laptop computer is on her knees and the handlebars of a motorcycle are in the background.

At the front of the line, seated at the desk, Navratilova knows the drill. She looks up, smiles, takes the book, glances at the name on the Post-it Note affixed to the cover, and signs. A natural left-hander, Navratilova writes with her right hand, as she has done since her first-grade teacher pointed out that her left hand would smear the ink of her fountain pen. Never one to blindly follow orders, the 7-year-old Navratilova considered the rationale, agreed with it, and made the conversion.

Guy comes up with a book with no Post-it Note. Navratilova looks questioningly at him. He says, “Sign it to my wife, Diane.”

Navratilova smiles and says, “Is that the way you want me to sign it, ‘To my wife, Diane’?”

Guy snorts with laughter.

He’s hustled off. The line must be kept moving and Navratilova’s time is strictly metered. She no longer plays singles on the professional tennis tour, but with the extraction of that from her life, scores of other things have rushed in to fill the space.

That Navratilova’s life in retirement is as hectic and demanding as it ever was, with more activities to wedge into it, should come as no surprise to anyone who ever knew her. This is, after all, the woman whose retirement gift from her friends in tennis was not a rocking chair but a tricked-out Harley-Davidson motorcycle with her name painted on the gas tank.

Navratilova was able to do what athletes swear they are going to, but seldom can. She went out on top. Packed it in while still ranked in the top five. While she was still raking in the cash and her influence in tennis was still keenly felt.

When Navratilova retired in 1994, her career had barely begun its downward arc. She has won more tennis matches than any other player in the history of the sport. She won 167 singles titles and 56 titles in Grand Slam events. During the period of women’s tennis’ most dynamic growth, Navratilova was in the top 10 for her entire career. Twenty years. Forever held to her own demanding standard, it’s a wonder Navratilova lasted as long as she did. Pride finally drove her out.

“I realized I couldn’t play at the level I would like, no matter how hard I worked,” she said. “I know that. What I got from tennis was a search for excellence, improvement, to be as good as I could be as a tennis player. I love to compete and I want to win, but mostly I want to run and have fun and see how good I can be.”

Which is why broadcasting is such a challenge. If you’re already a person who’s hard on yourself, what could be worse than joining the nit-pickingest profession around? Who needs self-analysis when your every utterance is scrutinized internationally?

Navratilova didn’t mean to go into television. Billie Jean King made a pest of herself with Seth Abraham, president and chief executive officer of HBO Sports, telling him that Navratilova would make an excellent analyst.

After only one year with Navratilova in the booth, the ratings for live coverage went up 46% and Abraham is sold.

“Obviously, she has a passion for Wimbledon,” Abraham said. “I look for the idea of broadcasting for the mind, not just for the ear. Martina has a lot to say in that regard.

“I’m not looking for Martina to be a provocateur. I’m looking for Martina to be a story teller. This is a person who can take apart a tennis match, she can take apart a tennis game, she can take apart a point. She knows what she’s talking about.”

Jim Lampley, HBO’s Wimbledon host, called Navratilova a natural who has made few rookie mistakes.

“Martina is off-the-board good,” he said. “I just try to stay out of her way, to tell you the truth. Martina is so quick and so perceptive and so expressive. She has one of the most eager and curious minds of anyone I’ve ever worked with.

“Her only danger is talking too much. Frankly, that’s what I’ll be watching for. By Thursday or Friday of the first week, if I hear too much of her, I know the viewers will think the same. It’s very common with people new to broadcasting. But if anyone will learn quickly, it’s Martina.”

Navratilova keeps her broadcasting philosophy simple. “You can’t just blab,” she says.

She enjoyed her most rewarding moment in television when she ran into a teaching pro from Chicago who told her he learned a few things by listening to her commentary.

“That’s pretty good,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

It’s curious. Why are famous athletes more busy after they leave their sport than when going full blast in it?

Simple. The excuse is gone. “I’ve got to practice,” or “I’m scheduled for a tournament that week,” is no longer valid. The protective shell falls away. There aren’t as many handlers. The front desk can’t be instructed to cut off calls. There’s nothing between the ex-athlete and the world, and the world manages to get through by phone and fax.

It took a year to learn, but Navratilova has come to understand that every good cause can’t have her. Her retirement has become more efficient, she’s been more ruthless about what to eliminate.

She stepped down after a tempestuous year as president of the WTA Players Assn., a thankless job.

“I want to take the year off,” she said. “That’s not really happening, but it’s a lot better than last year. Last year I played a lot of tennis and I traveled a lot. This year I’m not playing as much tennis and I’m traveling because I want to.”

Even so, she has not been gliding on a swing on the front porch of her modern home on 100 acres in Aspen, Colo. Navratilova still plays tennis--she’s a fixture on the Legends tour with Chris Evert and others, she plays World TeamTennis and has a full exhibition schedule. She is undecided about playing in mixed doubles at Wimbledon, which she and partner Jason Stark won last year.

The books were not her idea. Los Angeles-based writer Liz Nickles first contacted Evert to co-write a series of murder mysteries. Evert passed.

“I got the leftovers,” Navratilova said, laughing.

The collaboration is pretty easy. The two meet to discuss plot and characters, then the book proceeds by fax and telephone. The premise is time-honored for celebrity authors: Write what you know, and provide titillating details.

Thus, the books’ heroine is former tennis star Jordan Myles, who is forced to retire after a mountain climbing accident. She becomes a sought-after physical therapist and moves around the tour and all of its glamorous locations.

For those who know tennis, it’s great fun to match the books’ egomaniacal characters with players currently on the tour. Those who don’t know tennis read on and wait for the next body to drop.

The first book, “The Total Zone,” sold 17,000 copies. The most recent, “Breaking Point,” has sold 20,000. The third, tentatively titled “Killer Instinct,” is due next spring.

A spokesman for the publisher, Villard, said “Breaking Point” has received more warm reviews than the first book, but that the three-book contract would be reviewed upon its expiration.

The only other business venture that has Navratilova’s full attention is the Rainbow Card, a credit card that she and some friends marketed last October. The card is aimed at the gay and lesbian community and will support the Rainbow Endowment, which has already donated $50,000 to gay and lesbian organizations.

The goal, says Pam Derderian, Navratilova’s partner in the venture, is to issue 250,000 cards and raise $20 million for the Rainbow Endowment over five years.

“Martina has so much credibility in the [gay] community,” Derderian said. “She’s also the only lesbian who could get corporate America to sit down at a meeting and listen. She’s known for her integrity, and, regardless of ideology, I think people respect that.”

With business commitments kept to a manageable level, Navratilova has time to play like never before. Just not tennis. She is certified in scuba diving. She wants to take up sailing and wind surfing. Her winters are spent skiing and snowboarding. Summers find her on horseback, hiking or careening down rocky slopes on a mountain bike.

She reads voraciously. She’s going to take art classes, hoping to work mostly with metal and wood.

Navratilova is exploring the benefit of meditation and is poking around the edges of Buddhism. Perhaps, after a life with a body that has seldom failed her, the inevitable creak of age has her preternaturally dwelling on death and infirmity. Navratilova will turn 40 in October. Like most things, she has thought it through, wrestled to create options, then come to terms with it.

“Death scares me to death,” she says, smiling at her own joke. “Aging ticks me off. But what are you going to do about it? Deal with it.”

Not retired, just not playing tennis. Not at rest, but finally at peace.