Karma’s a beauty as Barty comes home to Rod Laver Arena

Ash Barty was crying herself to sleep last year. Now she’s into her first Australian Open final. ‘You wonder what you can achieve,” she says. “You wonder what you can do.”

Ash Barty lays a backhand in her semi-final win over Madison Keys. Picture: Getty Images.

Ash Barty was so homesick she cried.

Now she gets to play an Australian Open final in her own backyard. Karma’s a beauty, eh? Every time Barty has sacrificed something in her life, she has received double in return. She talks about having conversations with the Universe. On a night like this at Melbourne Park, you may be forgiven for thinking it’s listening.

She was on the road for seven-and-a-half months last year. So, she cried. All she wanted was home. Well, young lady, here it is. Rod Laver Arena. An Australian audience in the palm of your hand. A major final on what may as well be your backyard court.

Barty’s too humble to agree with this — nah, no way! — but we’re witnessing a living legend at the age of 25, so loved by this sporting nation the floodlights will have their fingers crossed when she takes on American Danielle Collins on Saturday night.

How big is this? Potentially, Barty’s going to put on her red shoes, her ruby slippers, and walk into something even bigger and better than anything she‘s done before. Her Cathy Freeman moment. “Cathy was loved by Australians and you can see the same attitude towards Ash,” Laver tells News Corp. “Everyone in Australia was thrilled when Cathy won. I think everyone will be just as thrilled if Ash wins. She’s a very popular Australian for good reason. She’s someone for us to be proud of as Australians. She’s a person to be admired.”

Barty’s first visit to the Open was as a cute-as-a-button, wide-eyed 11-year-old who had been talent spotted in Ipswich. “That kind of lit the flame,” she says. “You wonder what you can achieve. You wonder what you can do.”

Wonder no more. Tell all the cute-as-a-button, wide-eyed 11-year-olds watching her on Saturday night that they can win Wimbledon. Win the French Open. Become the world No.1. Barty is proof that ordinary people can do extraordinary things. The mayor of her home town, Teresa Harding, calls her, “Quintissential Ipswich.” She has young girls in tears around RLA because they adore her so much. She has nannas clasping their hands in prayer when she’s rocking back for a second serve. She has the Australian of the Year, Dylan Alcott, saying there’s no finer Australian than her.

“I’m just so proud of her,” says the Paralympian who brought Barty to fresh tears when his career ended on Thursday. In her own post-match interview, Barty saluted the Paralympian for inspiring the nation and globe. “I could not care less if she wins the Australian Open,” Alcott says. “I’d love her to but what I’m most proud of is how much of a beautiful person she is. What she said last night made me cry. “You could not pick a better ambassador for Australian tennis than her. I’m just so lucky to call her a mate. She means a lot to me and oh god, I love watching her kick arse.”

The Cathy Freeman moment. It may be something that good. She’s conquered the world in the last few years. She won Wimbledon and spoke so beautifully the members of The All England club thought, what a sweetheart! But this one’s different. Closer to home. At home. The home she had to leave for most of last year. The home she cried herself to sleep over. Perhaps the Universe saw those tears? Perhaps it decided when she did make it back, she would be rewarded with a night like this?

“I’m betting on Ash,” Laver says.

Her night of nights depends a bit on Collins, of course. She’s a tough-as-nails opponent who has a remarkable story of her own — a 28-year-old who needed surgery last year to end the debilitating pain of endometriosis. “Let’s do it,” Barty declares — but so does Collins, bracing herself for the role of villain. If you’re unfamiliar with her, she’s up for it. Combative doesn’t do her justice. On her racquet bag it says, “Danimal.”

“I think after everything that all of us around the world went through with COVID, and especially in sports, not having fans for what seemed like a long period of time, I feel like I’m just really grateful to be able to see faces in the crowd again,” Collins says. “To see people getting fired up, seeing positive energy, hearing people’s voices — that’s something I really thrive in. Whether I have a full crowd going for me, or whether I have the opposite, or somewhere in the middle, I really just love the energy. I think that’s what all professional athletes play for. I’m just really excited to go out there and compete. Do my best. I realise there’s going to be a lot of people supporting Ash. It’s all in good spirit, so ...”

It’s been 44 years since an Australian won the Open. That was Chris O’Neil, now a coach in the coastal NSW country town of Port Macquarie. You can imagine Barty doing likewise when she’s no longer doing this. Putting on a bucket hat and having a hit with some Queensland kids, or golden oldies, or whoever wants to make a booking. All of which can wait. She has a match to play in her country. For her country. She knows everyone’s done it tough. It’s not quite Bradman batting during the depression, but it’s close.

Right now she’s training on Kia Arena. Once her fitness trainer, Mark Taylor, and her fiancée, Garry Kissick, finish playing cricket with a racquet and a spare ball, she may actually get some work done. It’s a nice scene. Never has a rock star tried to be less of a rock star. You kind of feel like you’re intruding on Barty and her coach, Craig Tyzzer. When she was homesick last year, calling her parents every single day for seven-and-a-half months of overseas travel, it was Tyzzer by her side. If there’s an unsung hero in all of this, it’s him.

Barty calls him the “captain” of her tight-knit group. Tactically, she says, “Tyz, he’s a magician.” There’s only one thing they aren’t discussing before the final. Australia’s 44-year title drought. “Look, we don‘t talk about that at all,” he says. “We do the same preparation for every match. Don’t want to bring anything new in or make it more than what it actually is. It’s really just what she needs to do in the next match. We prepare the same all the time. I do the same work, Ash does the same work. There’s really no difference for us in that sense. We try and keep things pretty simple and pretty streamlined.”

Barty cried for Australia last year. Australia will return the favour if she jags a win. Shan’t be a dry eye in the house. When Cathy Freeman had her Cathy Freeman moment, she collapsed onto Sydney’s Olympic track in relief. By comparison, Barty’s stress-free. “Absolutely embrace it,” she says. “You have to. It’s fun. It’s brilliant to be playing in the business end of your home slam. I’m not going lie about that. It’s amazing. I think being able to experience it multiple times at majors has been incredible but Saturday’s going to be a new experience for me. I go out there and smile and try to do the best that I can. Whatever happens, happens. It’s been an incredible January. An incredible summer for us. I’m really looking forward to having one last crack.”

Her plans for Saturday? Read a book. Drink coffee. Have a warm-up hit. Watch the women’s Ashes. Those mighty Australian cricketers will be watching her from Canberra after stumps on day three. Who won’t be tuning in? The Rockhampton Rocket will have the best seat in the house. “She’s a good Queenslander,” he grins. “She enjoys her sport. She plays a good game and acts with good grace. The nice thing is that she’s playing her best tennis when she’s here in Australia. I think you can see how much that means to her. She looks like there’s no place she’d rather be. Cathy Freeman was a great champion of Australian sport and no matter what happens on Saturday night, Ash Barty is another.”