Marion Bartoli’s Illness – The Wimbledon Champion Who Almost Lost Everything

One thing about watching Marion Bartoli on a tennis court was that, for some reason, it seemed like she was wrestling with herself more than her opponent. The baseline bouncing. Between points, the shadow fluctuates. The small customs that no one else dared to follow. She was the exceptional winner who turned the sport into a private negotiation with her own nerves. Thus, it came as a shock when word leaked out in 2016 that Wimbledon, the venue she had so loudly loved, had discreetly informed her that she could not participate in a legends’ exhibition because they were afraid she might pass out on the court.

Not totally unexpected. It was more of an affirmation of a suspicion that many had held but were reluctant to voice. Her age was thirty-one. She lost her singles title three years ago. And obviously, excruciatingly thin.

She claimed that the official line was a mystery virus that was acquired in India for a considerable amount of time. In the brush, hair is falling out. Teeth becoming less tight. A body that didn’t feel like hers. It was a convoluted tale, in part because Bartoli herself appeared to be narrating it in bits and pieces, and in part. After all, no diagnosis could be established.

Now that she has finally given herself some space, the image is less enigmatic and more relatable. She openly acknowledged in a lengthy interview with The Guardian in 2023 that she had been “slowly and gradually getting to anorexia.” The same mental discipline that once propelled her to a Wimbledon trophy was the driving force behind her weight loss, regardless of any additional medical issues, which most likely were. turned inward. turned against her.

One of the interview’s sentences is difficult to forget. She claims that her mental toughness was what always made her, but she also explains how it almost destroyed her. “You can push that very far when you tell yourself not to eat,” she said. Yes, she did. In everyday life, the same quality that enables a player to win a Grand Slam against larger, faster opponents is not always a gift.

Philip Brook, the chairman of the All England Club at the time, intervened. Gently but firmly, he informed her that they couldn’t take the chance of having a heart attack on the grass. It’s an odd picture: the most courteous organization in tennis, the one that cares about underwear color and jacket buttons, sitting a former champion down to inform her that she was dying in front of them. Since then, she has stated that those words most likely saved her life. She keeps using the same phrase, “Wimbledon made her, then Wimbledon saved her,” which feels both true and a little too tidy, as survivors occasionally require a clear line to cling to.

What came next was not as picturesque. Six months in an Italian hospital, mostly on a feeding tube, initially without a phone or visitors. Most athletes never talk about the fall from lifting a trophy to lying alone in a room, and even when she describes it, there is a certain amount of incredulity. According to her, a toxic relationship and its consequences were also intertwined with the same time frame. At one point, doctors reportedly told her they were shocked she was still alive.

In the years since, she has married, become a mother, resumed coaching, and completed a marathon with virtually no training. The hair grew back. The body mostly recovered. She now speaks in a manner that suggests she has given her experiences a lot of thought, as well as what she would say to younger players, especially Emma Raducanu, regarding the peculiar weight of winning early. She might still be resolving some issues in public, as people do when there is no other option.

Observing it from the outside, what remains is how simple it was to overlook. The tennis community saw a skinny player, accepted an ambiguous explanation, and went on. She now shares a more difficult, unique story that is worth hearing.