Martina Navratilova sat at a dockside restaurant in Florida this spring, wearing worn-out jeans, a denim button-down shirt that hung loosely at her waist and a 1619 cap that one of her five dogs had gnawed on. It’s her favorite hat these days.
Athletic tape wrapped a thumb and forefinger, not to buffer a tennis racket, but to cover a skin condition that causes discoloration. She has not played in a while — the pandemic, aching joints, the usual excuses. Read More
Recent Comments