Verbal volleys for the world according to George Bush

Eastbourne, approaching mid-summer, and a sea fret has crept in surreptitiously, transforming a sultry afternoon into a fresh early evening here at Devonshire Park. Few stir from their seats. Out come the blankets and on go the hoods. British tennis aficionados, a necessarily stoical bunch, always come well prepared.

The singles contenders at the Hastings Direct International Championships have given way to the doubles participants, but a large crowd remains. One name ensures that. There is rousing encouragement from an otherwise reserved gathering, and a frisson of excitement as the announcer introduces her.

Few players are capable of keeping spectators so captivated, still epitomising that rare spirit of adventure and invention. Martina Navratilova is 46 now, and maybe not quite the athlete she was, but the American still reacts to her opponents' strategies with devilish anticipation, although together with her partner, the Australian Alicia Molik, she is unable to overcome the pairing of the Russian Elena Bovina and Nathalie Dechy, from France.

We meet afterwards in the players' restaurant. I bring along a copy of her auto-biography, Martina. It was penned in 1985, when she was still far from the completion of her six-year unbroken domination of Wimbledon. It is no anodyne tome, either. Her life story is brutally candid and self-deprecating. Just the prologue confirms that.

She tells how her father took her to a shoe store when she was 12. Evidently her self-esteem was not great. "I saw myself in a full-length mirror and started crying. Big calves. Big ears. Big feet. 'Don't worry,' my father told me. 'You're a late bloomer. I can tell you're going to be pretty when you grow up'."

She continues: "My father also told me about tennis. Told me to play aggressively. Like a boy. I already did. Rush the net. Put it past them. I take a chance. Invent shots. He told me I would win Wimbledon some day. I believed that part."

This week, she returns to the All England Club 30 years after her first attendance as a Czechoslovakian teenager. Now she concentrates on doubles, which she enjoys more than singles, and will partner the 17-year-old Russian Svetlana Kuznetsova in SW19 in an attempt to take her tally of Wimbledon titles to 20, equalling Billie Jean King's record. Inevitably, though, she will take more than a passing interest in the Ladies' Singles competition. Whoever claims it in 13 days' time is unlikely to be the most photographed. Pre-Wimbledon week is one in which the lenses have focused on the slender form - disconcertingly slender, in some eyes - of the Slovakian Daniela Hantuchova.

To an extent, the tennis court has become a catwalk. Navratilova, a staunch advocate of women's rights, takes a typically non-negotiable stance in that particular debate: "If you want to look like a model, then look like a model, but don't expect to win."

You put it to her, somewhat guardedly, that this obsession with female competitors' physical appeal is inevitable in today's society. It would be naïve to think otherwise. "I don't accept it," she cuts in. "I rail against it. I'm upset about it. Women are judged on a much harsher level. We're judged on our looks rather than our accomplishments. It's peculiar. You really should be judged on who you are, not what you look like."

She warms to the theme. "Hillary Clinton gets noticed for what haircut she's sporting. Bill never got that. On the other hand, now, I suppose, they're writing about David Beckham and his hairdos. You can be a male sex symbol, but it happens a lot more to women. Even someone like James Blake, who's a gorgeous guy and gets lots of attention, they still write about his tennis accomplishments. Then they also write that he's a model. It's a different criteria, as there are so many different ones for men and women overall."

In a vain attempt to redress the balance somewhat, I broach the fact that her current host nation has as its Leader of the Opposition a bald man who, it is claimed, could never become Prime Minister, partly because of his appearance. She digests this information thoughtfully. "Who's the bald guy?" she asks. "Iain Duncan Smith," I reply. "Conservative," I add, helpfully. "Yes," she muses. "But then maybe it's his policies..."

Navratilova laughs and shoots a huge smile. It is an occasional affectation. It can be taken in several ways, but could well be her way of saying: hey, that sure was a fascinating topic, but let's move on. Not this time. When the discussion turns to politics, she is deadly serious, and it tends to be you who has to prise her away from a subject in which she intends to invest even more of her time at a future date.

"I might have to," declares this committed Democrat. "There's a good possibility that's where I'll go, because the way things are going in America right now is a complete disaster. You look at George Bush's record since he has been in office and every indicator that should be going up has gone down.

"We had a trillions of dollars' budget surplus; now we're at a serious deficit. We're giving away tax rebates to the wealthiest Americans while the poor are getting worse off. Bush promised that no child would be left behind; we have about 20 million being left behind with his policies. We have, if anything, incited more terrorism worldwide."

She adds: "We've come from being the most respected country to the most hated, the most feared; right up there with North Korea as far as the most dangerous country is concerned. It's all because of one man, really. He's ruling by fear, by manipulating the media. He makes statements that are absolutely not true and nobody calls him on it. If you're not with him, you're against him. People don't speak out because they're afraid to. The ones that do, well, look what happened to Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins and Martin Sheen. They're being attacked because they're actors but, excuse me, they have a brain. What kind of an administration is this that's frightening people into submission?

"People should question authority. Sure, I want a great leader. But I want to make up my mind if that leader is right or not. We had no right to invade Iraq."

Navratilova claimed political asylum in the US in 1978 and did not become an American citizen until 1981. There are those who might contend that she was taking some pretty sharp incisors to the bountiful hand which had fed her throughout that time. "Excuse me, but I left one oppressive regime. I'm being oppressed if I can't speak out," she retorts. "I know totalitarianism; I know manipulation by the government of the media and the public; and I know propaganda when I see it, because I've been there for 18 years. This is all frightening, really frightening."

Navratilova volleys opinions at you and puts many of them away powerfully. There is little evidence of a defensive strategy in her assault. It was always thus. But running for political office? It would be an intriguing and challenging development. "Well, it won't be happening at the moment. I'm way too busy for that," she says. "I need to finish fixing my home first."

Navratilova lives in Florida with her current partner, whose name, perhaps wisely following a love life too frequently played out in public (notably the palimony suit pursued by Judy Nelson in 1991), she prefers to remain a secret.

Today, the scrutiny under which women players, many still teenagers, compete is even more intense than it was in her era. It is an unnatural lifestyle, and not all will handle it as adeptly as Navratilova has done. "When I first came to Wimbledon, I didn't even have a coach. It wasn't until I was 25 that I started getting some coaching," she declares. "Today's women players have a much better support system going on. We have the mentor programme [she acts as such to Hantuchova]. If the women feel they need any kind of help, they can get it. We never had that."

She expands on her own experience: "I took my knocks, obviously, having to leave my country. I didn't bring it on to myself, I had no choice. But it was the hand that I was dealt, so I played it. And being gay, that didn't endear me to too many people. That's a battle you have to fight as well, one that you don't bring on to yourself. It just would have been easier if I hadn't been born in a Communist country. It would have been easier if I'd have been born straight. My development would have been perhaps different, but I think I would have still turned into the same person I am."

After our meeting, she departs to meet with the rest of Team Martina: a South African, Michael de Jongh, and a fitness trainer, Giselle Tirado, from Australia. What would she have achieved with such aides earlier in her career? "With the guidance of a coach I know I could have won more. Do I regret that I didn't have one? No. I did it on my own. I did the best that I could."

It sounds like an awfully appropriate epitaph, even if it barely begins to attest to her achievements. Ones that created a name which has become a byword for much that is good about the game which will enthrall us for the next fortnight.

Biography: Martina Navratilova

Born: 18 October 1956 in Prague.

As a player: Turned professional in 1975 and won 167 singles titles, including 18 Grand Slams. Also 31 doubles and seven mixed-doubles Grand Slams. Earned $20m in prize money before retiring in 1996. Returned to WTA Tour in 2000.

Other stats: Won a record 1,438 singles matches. Won at least one Tour event annually for 21 years. Competed in 24 consecutive Wimbledons. Holds two of the three longest winning streaks in history. Ranked world No 1 for 331 weeks. Oldest Grand Slam winner (doubles) at 46 years, three months.