ALMATY, Kazakhstan, Nov. 7 (Xinhua) -- When Dias Doskarayev was growing up in Kazakhstan, pursuing a career in tennis meant overcoming obstacles that had little to do with talent.
Born in the southern city of Shymkent, where there were just two outdoor courts and no indoor facilities, he and his brother moved to Almaty in search of better opportunities. Even there, court rental could cost as much as 150 U.S. dollars an hour, while young players often found themselves sharing limited facilities with dozens of others.
"We would wake up at 5:30 because we were only allowed to play from 7 a.m. till 9 a.m.," Doskarayev told Xinhua on the sidelines of last month's ATP Almaty Open. "There were around 100 kids on two courts, if you can imagine. It was a rich man's sport back then."
Two decades later, Kazakhstan has become a familiar presence in international tennis, with Wimbledon champion Elena Rybakina and Alexander Bublik among its most prominent representatives.
But much of that success has come through players who were born and developed elsewhere before switching their sporting allegiance. The longer-term challenge is to produce elite professionals through Kazakhstan's own development system.
For Doskarayev, now vice president and acting CEO of the Kazakhstan Tennis Federation, the emergence of young prospects such as Amir Omarkhanov and Zangar Nurlanuly suggests that the next phase of that project is taking shape.
BUILDING A TENNIS NATION
Kazakhstan's transformation began in earnest in 2007, when businessman Bulat Utemuratov became president of the KTF and launched a development programme focused on infrastructure, coaching and competition.
According to Doskarayev, the number of tennis courts has risen from approximately 55 to 412 across 19 regions, while the number of qualified coaches has increased from around 20 to 700.
The federation now oversees some 300 national tournaments and more than 50 international events annually, he said.
A national tennis academy opened in Astana in 2008, bringing together promising youngsters from across the country, while partnerships with overseas academies helped improve coaching standards.
Doskarayev said regular tennis lessons now cost families an average of 50 to 60 dollars per month, making the sport considerably more accessible than during his childhood.
"The parents don't see tennis as a rich man's sport anymore," he said. "That stereotype has completely vanished."
The federation has also introduced tennis to younger children, with Doskarayev saying its grassroots programme now operates in 120 kindergartens, providing equipment and subsidising instructors' salaries.
Yet Kazakhstan's international breakthrough has followed a different route.
The federation deliberately recruited foreign-born players, particularly from Russia, to raise the country's profile and inspire participation.
Mikhail Kukushkin, Andrey Golubev and Yaroslava Shvedova were among the early arrivals, while Rybakina and Bublik subsequently became two of Kazakhstan's biggest sporting names.
"If we want to get the kids involved, they need to see some kind of a star on the TV, in the media, in the news," Doskarayev explained.
He believes the strategy helped generate enthusiasm for tennis, although the achievements of naturalized players do not necessarily demonstrate the effectiveness of Kazakhstan's domestic development system.
A NEW GENERATION EMERGES
For Omarkhanov, Kazakhstan's established players provided inspiration from an early age.
Alongside Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer, he admired Golubev, Kukushkin and Aleksandr Nedovyesov, recalling the excitement of watching Kazakhstan compete in Davis Cup ties.
"For me, coming and watching the Davis Cup matches in Kazakhstan sometimes was a big thing," he said.
Now pursuing his own professional ambitions, Omarkhanov values the opportunity to observe experienced players at close quarters.
"It's a big pleasure to be able to watch them prepare, watch them train and watch how they think," he said.
Nurlanuly, meanwhile, has drawn inspiration from Bublik's unconventional playing style.
"Watching Alexander Bublik has shown me how important it is to believe in your own game and have your own style," he said.
Both youngsters have benefited from the federation's investment in coaching, facilities and international competition, but acknowledge that the transition to professional tennis remains difficult.
"The biggest challenge is just coming from the juniors to the Futures, from the Futures to the Challengers, and from the Challengers to the ATP Tour," Omarkhanov said.
"It's just another step forward, which is not easy."
For Nurlanuly, consistency is the greatest challenge.
"At the junior level, you can have great results, but professional tennis is a different level," he said. "Every match is difficult, and you have to be physically, mentally and technically ready every day."
Both emphasised the importance of competing internationally, where exposure to different opponents and playing styles helps prepare them for the demands of the professional circuit.
They also believe having several promising Kazakh players developing simultaneously can help raise standards.
"It always pushes you, knowing that you have other people who are also working hard, who want to beat you and who want to be better," Omarkhanov said.
Nurlanuly agreed: "We motivate each other, share experiences and understand what it takes to compete internationally. I think we can push each other to become better."
BEYOND THE BIG CITIES
Doskarayev believes another encouraging development is the emergence of talented players from smaller cities, rather than exclusively from traditional tennis centres such as Almaty and Astana.
He cited 15-year-old Akhmadi Makhanov, who was introduced to tennis through a kindergarten programme in Aktobe before progressing through the federation's junior structure.
According to Doskarayev, Makhanov helped Kazakhstan qualify for the Junior Davis Cup world finals, winning his matches against leading opponents from the Asia-Oceania region.
"What makes me happy is that before, the national teams, 14s and 16s, were formed mainly from the big cities," he said.
"Now we're getting the good, talented kids from other regions, smaller regions that opened the tennis centre only 15 years ago, 10 years ago."
Nevertheless, Doskarayev acknowledged that extensive investment cannot guarantee professional success.
Having watched several generations progress through the federation's programmes, he has seen promising youngsters fall short despite receiving considerable support.
"We are just like a support team, you know, we can't do everything," he said. "At the end of the day, it's up to them."
For Nurlanuly, the ambition is to compete regularly in ATP tournaments and Grand Slams within five years.
"My biggest dream is to become one of the best players in the world," he said.
Omarkhanov is less inclined to impose a deadline on his ambitions.
"It doesn't really matter if it happens in two years, five years or seven years," he said. "I just want to be where I want to be."
October's Almaty Open offered a reminder of how far Kazakhstan has come, with the country now hosting established international tournaments and counting Grand Slam champions among its representatives.
But attracting international stars and producing them domestically are different achievements.
For Doskarayev, who once had to move cities simply to find somewhere to train, the expansion of opportunities is already a source of considerable pride.
"Whenever one of the homegrown players succeeds, you're like, 'wow, we did it,'" he said.
For Omarkhanov, Nurlanuly and those following in their footsteps, the challenge now is to demonstrate whether Kazakhstan's investment can translate into sustained success at the highest level. ■
