She's got the place to herself

Somehow, in the midst of all the debris of injuries and pullouts, tennis managed to find a story line for this week's women's pro tournament in Carson.

Jelena Jankovic can become No. 1 if she wins the title Sunday.

There was a time when No. 1 was a huge deal. Several years ago, as Martina Hingis started to get outmuscled and outgunned by bigger, stronger players, she clung to it as her badge of honor.

"I am still No. 1 in the world," she would chirp, defensively, after a loss.

These days, it seems more an inheritance of circumstance. Lots of players pull out of an event, some with sore legs, others with acute apathy, and suddenly, ta-da, , you too can be No. 1.

Jankovic showed up for the East West Bank Classic at the Home Depot Center with a No. 2 ranking, behind No. 1 and fellow Serb Ana Ivanovic, who won here last year but did not return to defend.

Jankovic also showed up with a muscle tear in her knee but decided to play, unlike a group of big-name challengers with even bigger limps. Lindsay Davenport pulled out, as did Venus and Serena Williams, then Svetlana Kuznetsova. That's 19 Grand Slam titles, gone, followed by ticket sales and general fan interest.

Hard to be certain whether Jankovic was being heroic or stupid. Certainly, the people who run the event, AEG, were grateful to her.

They are the people who built and own Staples Center, own most of the Kings, a big chunk of the Lakers and built and own the Home Depot Center. You need something to hang your hat on when selling tickets and schmoozing sponsors, and that's tough when the only advance notice of this event is a series of stories about who wasn't coming.

At least they had Jankovic.

"I can't comment on other people [pulling out]," Jankovic said. "I want to play, but I'm not 100%."

An occasional dud event is not serious for a big operation like AEG. Remember, they own the Kings. They probably consider tennis to be little more than a loss leader in a complex that is a hotbed for soccer and occasionally fills the tennis stadium -- for boxing.

This is also an Olympic year, meaning the players have to tromp off to five majors and have much less incentive to spend a week at a Tier II event such as this, even if it is the bright lights of Los Angeles . . . er, Carson.

Tennis is a strange, traveling road show. Its ups can be off-the-chart high, as in the recent Federer-Nadal Wimbledon final. Its downs can be Wednesday-night-in-Carson low, when empty seats are the dominant wallpaper.