At her birthday, my seven-year-old daughter will say that she wants these big cakes and certain expensive toys as presents, and I can't say no to her. It would just break my heart. But when I was little, for birthdays we just played outside and we were happy if we got any cake.

It's great, but there is one problem. She doesn't sleep. At night she seems to turn into a vampire. She wakes up every night five or 10 times, asking for things, singing, calling out.

Actually, I tossed it nicely, landed nicely, like airplane. No warning, beautiful. That's the art of throwing racquets.

The trouble with me is that every match I play against five opponents: umpire, crowd, ball boys, court, and myself.

Although we didn't have much when I was growing up in Split, Croatia, my parents always tried to ensure that my sister and I had the things we needed, and it was enough for us.

I still break racquets, but now I do it in a positive way.

After I won a match at a tournament I tried to repeat everything I did the day I won. Before my next match, I ate the same food, I went to the same restaurant etc. Sometimes it got very boring.