At one point during their thrilling semi-final on Thursday, Ons Jabeur lay on the grass at Wimbledon, seemingly overwhelmed at missing another crucial point.
It was a typical display of emotion from the 28-year-old Tunisian who thrilled the crowd to levels usually reserved for British contenders for the SW19 throne.
Yes, there was a whiff of partisanship as her opponent was Belarusian Aryna Sabalenka, but standing up as Jabeur won her place in the final, the crowd felt a special presence on center court.
Jabeur is African, Arab and Muslim – and the sport is captivated by the prospect that these three demographics, all unusual in the world of tennis, could merge for the first time in today’s winner of the Venus Rosewater Dish.
But what delights the legions of Jabeur supporters the most is his charm in front of the camera. In Tunisia, she is known as the “Minister of Happiness” for her sunny nature and ability to inspire others to excel in sport.
It was a typical display of emotion from the 28-year-old Tunisian who thrilled the crowd to levels usually reserved for British pretenders to the SW19 throne
Her husband Karim Kamoun encouraged her throughout her journey. At first, he paid for his flights to matches abroad with his salary as a professional fencer.
Wimbledon loves a maverick and in 5ft 6in Jabeur they see a woman who doesn’t fit the mold.
Proud of her heritage – she has described herself as a “100% Tunisian product” – and still based in her native country, she has avoided the usual life of tennis prodigies housed in training schools in Florida and California.
Jabeur was raised the youngest of four children in the Tunisian seaside town of Sousse, where her mother Samira, a tennis fan, first gave her a racquet when she was three years old.
At four, she had her own coach – but with facilities scarce in her hometown, she trained on the courts of nearby resort hotels.
When she was 12, she moved to a multi-sports academy in the capital, Tunis, and declared she would win a grand slam. His detractors laughed.
“You find these people everywhere,” she recalls. “They underestimate you…I said I wanted to win Grand Slams, and people were laughing and they didn’t believe in me.”
The odds were stacked against her on paper: Before Jabeur, the Arab world had produced just five players in the top 100 – and four were men. Yet, at 25, she had reached the quarter-finals of the Australian Open, and people were starting to take notice of the spunky girl with the winning smile and deadly drop shots. She somehow became even more popular after a certain vomiting incident on center court at Wimbledon last year, not in the final thankfully, but in earlier rounds. After a discreet discomfort in the corner, with match point no less, she returned from the baseline to serve her winning volley.
Her husband Karim Kamoun encouraged her throughout her journey. At first, he paid for his flights to matches abroad with his salary as a professional fencer. They tied the knot in November 2015 and 18 months later Kamoun gave up her career to become her fitness trainer – a pivot who, Jabeur admitted, was not always without challenges.
In Tunisia, she is known as the “Minister of Happiness” for her sunny nature and ability to inspire others to excel in sport.
“In the beginning, the transition from husband and wife to trainer and trainee was not easy, because we are not used to working together,” she said. “And him asking me to go for a run, it was kind of like an order and I didn’t like it at first.”
But in an interview with Vogue Arabia magazine in January, the former Arab Woman of the Year stressed, “We still have to make sure we have time together as a couple.”
Kamoun, in turn, is touchingly proud of his wife, often posting tributes of support. “True champion on the court, but honestly it’s your grace that I admire the most,” he wrote after the Wimbledon final last year. I’m proud of you, keep dreaming, keep inspiring.
This sentiment is shared by most of her fellow Tunisians, for whom she is already a national treasure, her face immortalized on a postage stamp.
Across her country, Jabeur’s image stares at commuters from giant billboards, proudly proclaiming she is “Made in Tunisia”, and the mood ahead of today’s final would be feverish.
Last year, even scorching 40C heat couldn’t stop locals from thronging cafes and town squares to cheer on their heroine.
Similar scenes will no doubt unfold today – but regardless of the outcome, it’s clear that Jabeur has won the hearts of not only millions across Africa and the Arab world, but also in dear old Blighty.