NEW YORK - The title of her new book is a terse summation of the woman. "Come to Win,'' is Venus Williams' approach to life and tennis. And through a career remarkably long, she has won. But not lately.

So much is linked to Venus in the "How come they call it the U.S. Open when nobody in the U.S. can play any more?'' Other than Serena Williams, who's out with an injury. And other than older sister Venus, who's battling the years along with her opponents.

She's in Friday's semifinals, against Kim Clijsters of Belgium, the defending champion, the one who beat Venus last year in the fourth round, the one who's beaten Venus four in a row.

Of the eight players remaining, men or women, only one of them is American, Venus. Which is both fortunate, because of her persistence, and unfortunate, because of her aging and aching.

Father Time, or in this instance, Mother Time, never double faults, never blows a volley at net. She wears you out and runs you down, and before you know it the forehand to the corner goes wide or the dash to pick up a lob is a step slow.

Venus is 30, ancient in tennis. She still hammers a nasty serve, still stretches for backhands, but what she hasn't done since Wimbledon 2008 is win a Grand Slam tournament, which with her record is the only thing that counts.

She was 14, with beads in her hair and dream in her head, when in 1994 Venus Williams played in a pro tournament for the first time, indoors in Oakland.

We heard about potential that soon was realized. We also heard remarks that turned off some tennis people, exuberant bursts of self-confidence that somehow came out the wrong way.

The establishment was unyielding toward Venus and Serena. Whether it because they were African-American or because they or brash father Richard said things better left unsaid remains speculation.

That Venus Williams has been tempered. She now gives credit to opponents when they defeat her. She now sees a big picture.

What American tennis sees is a possible last hurrah from someone who became one of the finest players ever.

So much has been made of the superficial, of the tennis outfits she wears, the dresses she designs. Certainly in a visual world dominated by television it's what people see that often overwhelms what they don't want to hear. Venus, however, is less a material girl than a socially conscious one.

Earlier in the week Williams defeated Shahar Peer, an Israeli Jew and Women's Tennis Association tour regular who a year and a half ago was not given a visa by the United Arab Emirates to compete in an event in Dubai. Maybe the only other player to speak out in protest was Venus Williams.

"Just because of my history as an African-American,'' explained Venus. "You know my parents both came from the South in the ‘40s and ‘50s, and it's an outrage really. Just like, are you serious? Can you really exclude someone?

"I think as professional athletes, in a way we're ambassadors, almost, for peace, because sport brings everyone together.''

Sport has brought us Venus Williams, who in 16 years has broken barriers and instituted change. She was a pioneer, testy on occasion, charming on other occasions.

She played hard, and while her critics sniffle that she and Serena were too often hurt, she never whined.

At Wimbledon this summer, after losing in the quarters to the 82nd ranked woman, Tsvetana Pironkova - interestingly, the same day Clijsters was ousted - Venus was asked if she were bothered by a sore knee. "I don't talk about injuries,'' she responded, a grand gesture.

She understands the code: If you play, you're not hurt. If you're hurt, you don't play.

Her father, Richard, told the tabloids this week the knee has affected Venus this Open, but once again, proudly, correctly, she refuses to make an acknowledgment.

She did have a ready answer when someone wondered what her tactics would be against Clijsters, to wit: "Win the point. Go out there as I always do, try to execute my game and win the point, win the set.''

Through the years she's won a lot of sets and matches, won seven Grand Slams in all, five Wimbledons and long ago, 2000, 2001, two U.S. Opens. She would love one more. America would love to see her win one more.

"I want to be in the final,'' said Venus, "but I'm just focused on the semis, and I don't get too excited until the tournament is over.''

She knows the drill. Except year after year, the drill gets a little bit more difficult. Maybe this is the final chance. Maybe it's America's final chance. It definitely is this Open.

Asked if she felt a responsibility as the last American standing, Venus shook her head and said, "If I felt like that, I don't think I'd be able to raise my arms.''

She just has to raise her game. Come to win, Venus. Come to win.