Ash Barty's Australian Open title was a gift to a nation—and an accomplishment that finally, and truly, set her free

Tennis Channel Live: More on Ash Barty's unexpected retirement

I think having the opportunity to come back into the sport for a second time and almost making that decision to come back and try again was a really important one. I left last time in a very different head space. Now I feel like I'm happy, I'm fulfilled, and I know I've left absolutely everything out there, and I'm really proud of that. Ashleigh Barty, the top-ranked WTA player and holder of three Grand Slam titles, during a press conference on Thursday with international media. Barty, just 25, retired from tennis on Wednesday.

Everyone loves Ash Barty. Fans, officials, reporters, even Barty’s rivals in the Grand Slam derby have habitually praised the chipper Australian for being so gifted yet so well-grounded; so competitive yet so collegial; so representative of the easygoing Australian temperament, yet so much the perfectionist.

Little did they realize how right they were.

Barty, who loves the simple, settled life, has walked away from all the rewards and temptations pro tennis has to offer. It’s hard to imagine that her solid, straightforward personality will lead her toward regrets, or agitate for a return to the tour any time soon. Barty announced her decision in signature manner, in an emotional, six-minute interview on Instagram with Casey Dellacqua, a close friend and the doubles partner with whom Barty, then 16, won her first WTA event.

Barty has been ranked No. 1 for 114 consecutive weeks, but she will ask to be removed from the rankings as of Monday. She has no plans to defend the title she won at Wimbledon, the catalyst for her decision to call it a career.

“Wimbledon last year changed a lot for me, as a person and as an athlete,” Barty told Dellacqua. “When you work so hard all your life for one goal, to be able to win Wimbledon, which was my one dream, my one true dream in tennis, that really changed my perspective.”

Yet the 5’5” Queensland native, one of those mythic “true-blue” Aussies (think regular people doing extraordinary things) right down to the Aboriginal portion of her ancestry, found even after she won Wimbledon, there remained, in her own words, “. . . just this little part of me that wasn’t satisfied, wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

Barty was keenly aware that, despite her nation’s powerful sporting culture and its once multi-generational pre-eminence in tennis, no Australian man or woman had won the Australian Open since Chris O’Neil in 1978. Had she somehow forgotten that, the entire population of Oz would happily remind her.

Barty and her team set aside her immediate concerns and, navigating through numerous late-night conversations, decided to mount a full-on push to win in Melbourne. She succeeded, with a run that mesmerized her fellow Aussies and produced the second most-watched broadcast of 2021/early 2022 in Australia. Only the Aussie Football League final, the Down Under equivalent of the Super Bowl, attracted more viewers.

“That felt to me like my perfect way to celebrate what an amazing journey my tennis career has been,” Barty said.

The accomplishment was Barty’s gift to her nation, and it guaranteed that neither she nor her domestic fans would be left with a nagging sense of unfinished business. Barty was finally and truly free. If that sounds melodramatic, so be it. But this is a woman who had stepped away from the game once before, for a two-year period starting in the fall of 2014. Still just 18 at the time, she was a homesick adolescent feeling burned out by the incessant travel and stress of the itinerant life.

During that hiatus, Barty made good on her hunger to experience life “as a normal teenage girl.” But her talent would not be silenced. It called her back to the court to craft a Hall of Fame career that, for all its dazzle, would not threaten Barty’s fundamental interests, values or ambitions. As ESPN tennis analyst Rennae Stubbs told the New York Times, “Ash is not an ego-driven person wanting more. She’s happy and now comfortable and never has to leave her town and family again. And she’s content with her achievements.”

Barty’s decision is the de facto repudiation of a culture that, for all its putative glamor and riches, she never found captivating. For all the millions Barty has earned—and they surely made her decision to retire easier—Barty revels in a satisfying if relatively mundane life. Tennis players—think Rafael Nadal—are such competitive beasts. Barty seems prepared to shed that identity. She’s keen on sports, but happy to become just another face in the stands, clutching her beer and sunblock, leaping to her feet occasionally to yell encouragement for her team.

“I love the competition,” she said. “That's what has driven me the most in my career, that one-on-one competition and the thrill of the fight. I know that I'll miss it 100 percent. But I'll be able to get the adrenaline in different ways.”

It may not be a likely source for adrenaline jolts, but Barty’s engagement with young Australians of indigenous heritage may be an adequate substitute in terms of satisfaction. A member of the Ngaragu people, Barty—like that other great Australian champion, Evonne Goolagong—is deeply and vocally proud of her heritage and putting her fealty to good use. She beams with joy when she talks about her work. It’s an avocation that suits her nativist streak. Barty has is as all-Australian as vegemite, as true to her country, as she has been in making her momentous decision to quit.

“I just hope that everyone knows [that] what they saw is who I am and what they got,” Barty said. “I've never tried to be anyone that I'm not. Every time I was on the court, I gave it my all. I was fair. I competed well. No matter the result, the relationship [with my peers] never changed off the court.”

Spoken like a true Aussie, one whose grace, sportsmanship and dignity will be sorely missed.