The sports world needs polarizing figures just as much as it needs its superstars and grand rivalries.

It needs the athletes who leave no gray area. It's either black or white; there are no mixed emotions, it's either love or hate.

Two individual sports - boxing and tennis - have provided these hero/villain characters in spades.

The classic example was Muhammad Ali - you were either in his corner or you weren't. Papa Wood, dad and I all watched his great trilogy of fights with Smokin' Joe Frazier in my Adelaide living room (albeit the US battles were not live) and hoped the smug braggart from Louisville would get the bowel matter knocked out of him.

Even as his stellar career came to an almost gruesomely slow halt, we wanted to see him lose while so many others wanted to witness him go out with one final fistic flurry.

Tennis gave us two of the kind at the same time in Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe. Forget the brilliant but dull Bjorn Borg; it was the two Americans in the early '80s whom we all loved to hate or hated to love.

I loved the tantrum-throwing, abuse-hurling Super Brat. I loathed the tantrum-throwing, abuse-hurling Connors. There's no logical reason why, I just did.

Serena Williams, the grand dame of tennis nowadays, fits comfortably into this polarizing portal as she is as much admired as despised by most of tennis' audience.

She has threatened a lineswoman with an esophageal transplant with a tennis ball, abused umpires and glared down all and sundry who cross her in a career which, when it eventually ends, will probably be regarded as the greatest in women's tennis history.

Serena is a dynamic court force. Meld Steffi Graf with Martina Navratilova and "Steffina" would still not come close to beating an in-form Williams the Younger. The only thing that can beat Serena on a consistent basis is herself. Her hunger, desire, aggression and anger are 50 percent good and 50 percent bad and seem to cause an on-court schizophrenia that sees her inexplicably lose sets and even, sometimes, matches.

The men's game currently boasts three all-time greats and one on the brink in Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray. They are brilliant, but when they play I can't cheer for any of them. Well, maybe the "Djoker".

None is a hero or a villain in my eyes.

When Serena struts onto the court, I cheer for her opponent.

She's just so damn good I want to see her lose. I want to see her lose her cool and glare and say naughty words.

As time has rolled by, I have come to appreciate the greatness of Ali more and more, and even Connors, too. I have already accepted the absolute brilliance of Serena, but that doesn't mean I won't be cheering for her next foe.

Tym Glaser is a senior sports copy editor who always cheered for Evonne Goolagong. He can be contacted at tymglaser@hotmail.com