The rapid-fire voice of producer Jo Chichester douses nine winking red lights on a phone console, representing nine calls from around the nation, in Pat Rafter has just declared himself not only the most eligible bachelor in Australia, but the most interested. A 1 800 number has just been recited and almost tantaneously, a large female audience h From the speakers throughout the station's studio at the northern end of the ABC's Ultimo radio headquarters, Ben Harper is crooning Jah Works ... the sort of music Rafter would listen to to take hisFlushing Meadow on Sunday Chichester holds the phone an d juggles calls with one hand, types notes onto a console that will appear before Helen Razer, Rafter's on-air host, in the adjoining studio.

6. "Tory ... wants to be his ballgirl". 7. "Sylvan ... "where do you think you will be in five years'." 8. "Sam ... "he is gorgeous'."

Rafter is asked to pluck a name and a question off the screen and out of the air. The five-year query is offered. "No, no, no," he replies immediately. "Nothing serious." Tennis can be like chess with sweat, and boxing without blood. It's players snarl and grunt and curse, sometimes to themselves, sometimes audibly enough for a courtside microphone to hear.

Sergi Bruguera can look as though he is about to be crucified as he lines up a forehand; Thomas Muster can sound like he is undergoing surgery without anaesthetic; Pete Sampras walks through matches Hearts are not meant to be worn on sleeves because that would leave no room for the logos. Pat Rafter wore his heart on the top of his head, where a little palm tree of dark brown hair with a single,tied and left jauntily aloft.

Exotic? Yes. "It's a little bit freaky. It was like some bloke's wearing this and looking pretty funny in front of millions of people and not giving a s---."

Nothing serious.

Pat Rafter will be treated very kindly by history, and not just because it was 10 years since an Australian had won a grand slam title (Pat Cash at Wimbledon in 1987), or 23 since a tennis player froShane Warne had on international cricket, reviving and popularising an ancient and intricate style, and proving that it can be successful.

Warne's special subject was leg spin. Rafter's is serve and volley tennis, a sprint along a high wire from the service line to the net, an approach both enthralling and exhilarating.

He brings, he believes, " ... a bit of character, a bit of fun to the sport. It's not a clean-cut image. You can look like a dork and get away with it." It is an atypical style from an atypical tenniS. During the US Open, he could be seen in the dining room of the Elysee Hotel, eating breakfast alone, content with his own company. No entourage, no minder, no coach. Just the occasional company of hibefore the tournament started. "For me," he said,"I don't want to be always doing things for people. I just want to be by myself. You're feeling like you have to entertain them.

"When I'm with a girl, it's different as well. [But] it's different to having a coach or someone like that with me. The whole idea of a coach is to tell you what to do, giving their experience to you "I've learnt it all myself. I don't like anyone telling me what they want me to do. If I want to have steak for breakfast, I will.

"This year and the end of last year, I was looking closely at why I was frustrated sometimes, and it was because I was feeling responsible for other people, which is just my nature. It's like being f Rafter often cites his epic five-set win over Cedric Pioline in the Davis Cup tie against France at White City in February as the competitive turning point of his year. No less noteworthy, before and Jeff Rafter convinced him, he says, that his was a personality that needed a lot of room and exercise, a spirit that needed as much attention as his body and his game.

In that sense, he is the antithesis of the player who is now his significant other and nemesis, American Pete Sampras, the world No1 for the past five years, and winner over Rafter at each of their matches "He does whatever the book says to be number one," Rafter says, "having quiet dinners, get so many hours sleep ... I'm not knocking him for that, but I wouldn't enjoy it. That wouldn't be a life, for "For me, if I feel like going to the bar for a drink with my mates, I'll go. I just do what I feel. I just go on how I feel.

"This is my seventh or eighth year on tour. It's taken a while. Even this year was a bit of a gamble. Is it right to go without a coach? Is it right to have a good time? I went ahead and did what I town instincts and it's worked.

"I still do work hard - that's one reason why I'm here. I've gone out and done the extra hour and the extra kilometre that other guys haven't done, but at the same time, I need to relax and have a be "It's all about finding a way to unwind. Maybe it's a movie and a big chocolate bar and a can of Coke. I guess I learnt that from Jeff."

"It's not the textbook way to get to number two in the world. No-one teaches you. You just have to find out what's best for your personality. I'm learning things all the time.

"There are times when I want people around me, but when you're travelling, you have to learn to be independent. You have to learn to enjoy your own company. That's one thing I've found, that I can en And he does.

He is interviewed by Ray Martin for A Current Affair at Gordons Bay, a tiny niche in a pristine stretch of coastline between Coogee and Clovelly.

Rafter is a supporter of Coastwatch, hence the location for the shoot, which is perfect. There is an old car bench seat, upside down next to a drainage pipe, and a film of rubbish bobbing gently agai ACA have sent only one camera for the interview. Dazzled by Martin's presence, or mystified by the craft of the television cutaway, Rafter starts laughing as Martin repeats, to the camera, the questihis subject during the interview. Rafter can sign a new racquet deal for three years and a clothing agreement that will expire in 2002 and may never have to check a bank statement again if he doesn't want to.

He is in the place that tennis watchers had half-expected, or hoped, to be occupied by an Australian player at some point soon.

Except that that player was expected to be Mark Philippoussis, his doubles partner who, this time last year, was the Great White Hope that Rafter himself had been at the start of 1995.

Rafter speaks of him fondly and carefully. "He gets down on himself," he said of Philippoussis. "I felt like he had a pretty average year and he's still 18 in the world. That says a lot about how goo That step, or steps, will no longer be taken in tandem with Rafter. The doubles partnership - the Scream Team for the kiddies at Wimbledon - that began in 1995 and saw them ranked 13th in the world - Their careers have been like two lines, parallel to each other, then intersecting and now, perhaps, merging, with the possibility that both will be seeded at the Australian Open in January,

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