BILLIE JEAN KING grimaced when she heard that Martina Hingis wasn't so sorry about the Amelie Mauresmo uproar after all, when she was told that in Hingis's grand view from the top of the tennis world, there is just so much public affection that a racquet-wielding lesbian should show.
''She's young,'' King said one recent morning over coffee, before remembering that Hingis, at 18 and carrying the responsibility of being No. 1, isn't that young. ''What -- if you're straight and you bring your husband, you're not allowed to hold his hand? I'm going to have to talk to Chris.''

What Hingis did, with an unintentional assist from Lindsay Davenport, was turn an inspiring Australian Open run late last month by the relatively unknown Mauresmo into a distasteful referendum on the Frenchwoman's sexuality, played out sensationally in the Australian tabloids.
After telephoning Davenport, to whom she is close, King was certain that the American was sorry for her clumsy language in discussing Mauresmo's power and physique after their semifinal match. First of all, there are women on the tour -- Venus Williams and Mary Pierce, to name two -- more sculpted than Mauresmo. Second, before she whipped herself into better shape, Davenport understood that people snickered about her weight. She, of all people, should have known better.

''It's probably good for them because now they know they need to be careful with what they say,'' King said. ''When I talked to Lindsay, she said, 'Billie, I felt so bad, like I was walking on eggshells.' ''
Davenport sent Mauresmo a heartfelt letter before the final, won by Hingis, who then apologized to her vanquished opponent for saying in an interview that Mauresmo is ''half a man; she's here with her girlfriend.'' Mauresmo, 19, told Hingis, ''I hope you really mean this.'' Hingis apparently did not.
The following day, she told Tim Layden of Sports Illustrated that she ''wasn't regretting'' what she had said. Much worse, she added, of Mauresmo and her companion, Sylvie Bourdon, ''Everyone makes her own choices, but . . . they are hugging and kissing all the time, and I'm just, 'O.K., there's a limit.' ''

King, one of a handful of star-quality female athletes who have acknowledged a lesbian life style, sighed and said: ''Am I shocked she said this? Why would I be? I lived this. Martina Navratilova lived this. It just tells me there's still homophobia on the tour.''
And now, of all times, when the men's draw at a Grand Slam tournament is the rough equivalent of the jayvee game. King, the mother of the women's pro circuit, a rebel to the core, said, if anything, that women should not even play Australia until it offers equal prize money. Or the French Open and Wimbledon, for that matter.
''This is the moment, the window,'' she said, while admitting that the chances of a united women's movement are slim.

There is always the next purse to win, another endorsement to earn. At the root of Hingis's revulsion to Mauresmo is most likely the old-school belief that she will be mislabeled, stigmatized. Hingis's ideal female tennis icon, judging from her recent rash of showy magazine shoots, is obviously Anna Kournikova, the tour's reigning boys' locker room pinup.
This uninformed, regressive attitude negates the leaps and bounds of women's sports, and misses the spiritual triumph of a leveling playing field. A generation of schoolgirls is finally being encouraged to compete, to sweat, without having to worry about sexuality being factored into their personal scouting report.
It shouldn't matter and, to increasing audiences and consumers, it doesn't matter. Everyone makes their own choices, as Hingis put it, and Evert or someone should teach her to respect them. ''The tour has so many different personalities now,'' King said. ''Celebrate the differences.''

Next Monday night, King will receive the Arthur Ashe Award for Courage at the ESPY Awards at Radio City Music Hall. Here is some sound mentoring advice for Martina Hingis: Call up Chris Evert and find out why.