The Reemergence of Sloane Stephens

When Sloane Stephens is at her best, she makes tennis look effortless. Her strokes are so crisp, her forehand so powerful, her movement so purposeful, her angles so precise, that she looks like she's hitting against a wall. She doesn't guess, she anticipates. She doesn't punish the ball, she calmly commands it.

And she does it all with a megawatt smile and a so-what shrug—like, no big deal, guys, I play tennis like this. It's why Sloane Stephens was talked about as the next big thing after upsetting Serena Williams in the Australian Open three years ago, and it's why she still could be a star.

Stephens, now 22 and ranked No. 26 in the world, won the second title of her career in Auckland, New Zealand last week, under arduous conditions: Because of rain, her Friday night semifinal against former No. 1 Caroline Wozniacki was postponed, so on Saturday she had to come out in the morning and face one of the best defensive players on the WTA Tour, then return to the court just hours later to face hard-hitting, go-for-broke German Julia Goerges in the final. Despite the short turnaround and stylistic disparity between her opponents, Stephens dispatched both.

What was her secret?

"Just kind of going with the flow—that was pretty much it. Pretty basic," she told reporters. As if.

When Stephens upset Serena in the quarterfinals of the Australian Open in 2013, the victory that propelled her career in decidedly non-basic directions. Stephens was 19 years old, and had all of the ingredients needed to become an American media star: youth, commercial good looks, bubbly personality, dramatic (well, harrowing) personal backstory. Add in her obvious athletic talent, her being African-American in a still-predominantly white sport and her upstaging of Williams on one of tennis' biggest stages? Yeah, it equalled overnight sensation.

With a single win, Stephens was no longer merely an up-and-coming player—she was a vehicle for the ultimate projection. Could She Be The Next Serena?

Unfortunately, that question left no room for caveats—for instance, the noteworthy fact that Williams was injured in that match. Or the fact that Stephens' draw had been wide open until the quarterfinals. Or that she lost rather meekly in the semifinals to eventual champion Victoria Azarenka. Or the fact that her Aussie run, overall, was far closer to a pleasant surprise than a second coming.

Nope, no time for that amid the Ellen Show appearance and adoration from celebrities in and out of tennis and ESPN The Magazine profile. Which was followed immediately by a blown-out-of-proportion controversy that came from Stephens speaking ill of Williams in said profile, daring to lament that Serena had unfollowed her on Twitter and deleted her from BlackBerry Messenger. The horror.

It didn't take long at all for the spotlight to tire of Stephens—and, safe to say, the feeling was mutual. She failed to adapt to the week-in, week-out grind of the tour, elevating her game at the Majors just enough to make it to the second week, but often struggling to win a single match at smaller tournaments. On and off the court, her attitude emerged as an issue; she sometimes came across as downright petulant. That could be said of pretty much everyone her age, of course, but Stephens is not like everyone else.

When she isn't playing well, Stephens' game remains effortless—it's just effortlessly bad. Her strokes are mistimed, her movement is sluggish, her forehand is aimless. The only thread that ties together Good Stephens and Bad Stephens is the accompanying shrug—like seriously, you guys, I already told you, it's not that big of a deal.

"I have a lot of tennis to play in the next ten years," Stephens said at a tournament in Charleston in 2014. "So I'm just going to enjoy it and have fun even if my ranking drops to 800. I doubt it'd matter that much."

"I'm not rushing to try and do anything fabulous," she added later in the same tournament, after losing early to a player ranked below her. Again.

For tennis fans—and anyone who wants to see Stephens fully harness her obvious gifts—that facade of cool nonchalance is the most frustrating thing about her, win or lose. Stephens projects a bundle of contradictions. She enjoys attention, but is skeptical of it. She loves winning, but is uneasy being a winner. She works hard, but she's uncertain whether or not she actually wants the things she's working for.

Papering all of that over with a what, me worry? attitude could be a coping mechanism, a way to superficially manage her own sky-high expectations. It could be a reaction to media scrutiny. But watching her in Auckland, something else occurred to me—maybe it's not a front. Maybe Stephens actually is just figuring things out as she goes. Maybe her blase wavering isn't self-serving; maybe it's just her.

And maybe all of that is changing. On the court, Stephens is trending up. Before last July, Stephens had never won a WTA title. She now has two. There's a new coach by her side—not a superstar like her past hires of Paul Annacone, Nick Saviano and Thomas Hogstedt, but instead Kamau Murray, a 34-year-old who was previously focused on cultivating tennis talent in the South Side of Chicago. So far, the partnership seems to be paying dividends—Stephens was cool under pressure against Goerges despite being favored, something that has flummoxed her in the past.

Stephens is never going to usurp Williams—and it's not like Williams plans to vacate her throne any time soon—but that isn't what she needs to do to be successful, anyway. Rather than play in the shadow of what other people want her to be, Stephens simply needs to be herself, and play her game. She needs to play her signature brand of effortless tennis, the good kind, regardless of internal and external expectations. She'll need to accept and believe that the sport is a big deal, after all, and to embrace that there's no time like now to do something fabulous.