Amelie Mauresmo's return to Wimbledon marks the recognition of a people's champion. She is reluctant to admit it, but this amiable Frenchwoman can summon up popular sympathy more readily than any even her most glamorous contemporaries in women's tennis.

When Mauresmo sealed a courageous three-set triumph over Justine Henin in last year's final at the All England Club, her relief was mirrored in that of her long-suffering supporters. For years they had watched as 'calamity Amelie' stumbled at the decisive hurdle, her raw talent and fearsome hitting inhibited by nothing more than anxiety. Nerves were her nemesis, and it was through this all too human frailty that her struggle became a star attraction.

At first glance, Mauresmo possessed all the gifts that have come to dominate the modern women's game. She had the brute strength, and knew how to control it - the sheer ferocity of Serena Williams' matches having shown tennis purists that you could have too much of a good thing. In her long-limbed, Amazonian physique, she had the glamour, too. While she would never command the fashion endorsements lavished upon Maria Sharapova, Mauresmo retained an understated elegance - in contrast to her more feted Russian rival, whom many have accused of retreating into a hollow commercial shell.

Even now, as a 27-year-old double Grand Slam winner, Mauresmo's most marketable quality is that she is earthy and natural. An enthusiastic skier, horserider and motorcyclist, she also has a penchant for hoarding fine wines in the cellar of her Geneva home. Who could resist? Certainly not regular Wimbledon watchers, who hold her in the kind of esteem normally reserved for visiting royalty. Mauresmo, for her part, maintains she is comfortable being thought of as a 'tennis queen'.

"Nerves were her nemesis, and it was through this all too human frailty that her struggle became a star attraction."

However, it was perhaps in keeping with Mauresmo's record of perpetual misfortune that her moment of glory against Henin was eclipsed by another, altogether uglier final, as France departed the football World Cup amid the disgrace of Zinedine Zidane's headbutt. Back home, her status as France's first Wimbledon ladies' singles champion since Suzanne Lenglen did not even earn her acknowledgement as sports personality of the year.

The apparent churlishness of her countrymen owes much to their impatience that Mauresmo has yet to replicate her Wimbledon form on their own major stage, at Roland Garros. But equally, as a tennis nation, the French appear less than attuned to the intricacies of the grasscourt game. Mauresmo, discussing the preparations for her title defence at SW19, disclosed that her only chance for proper practice in Paris had been to hit with coach Loic Courteau on the lawn of the British Embassy.

Once in London, that vital sense of belonging kicks in, but so too do some mild superstitions - such as making sure she stays in the same house as last summer. "When you have good feelings in certain places, you like to be able to find them again," Mauresmo explains.

Then she adds, quietly, that her Wimbledon breakthrough, no matter how personally liberating, feeds the appetite for an encore. "You still have a white patch that you have to write the history on - I know I'm in good condition and that there are good things around me, but you still have to perform on the court. Once you have tasted the emotion and adrenaline at the end of these big tournaments it makes you want more, definitely."

Mauresmo's mindset is all the more remarkable in light of the injuries and discomfort that have soured her season to date. Just a day after then president Jacques Chirac had conferred upon her the Legion d'Honneur (at least French politicians know achievement when they see it), she underwent surgery for appendicitis. Her arrival at Wimbledon, looking relaxed and refreshed after, an impressive run-out on the Eastbourne grass betrays her powers of recovery. "I am not stressed by what I do, but I am intense about what I do," she says.

Even so, it would be a disservice to Mauresmo to claim that she is defined simply by her committed on-court persona. Away from the tennis circuit, she is a multi-faceted soul who has endured much since she came out to the world as a lesbian eight years ago. While her sexuality seems immaterial now, it was a vexed issue then, and hardly helped by Martina Hingis' charmless remark that she was "half a man anyway".

The only riposte Mauresmo can give on how she leads her life is a measured, enigmatic one, conveying her dignity despite the strain. "I think I have always been the type of player who has had other things in life. Once you retire, your life doesn't end, no matter how many Grand Slams or tournaments you have won. You still have to have another life, with your friends and family around you - and to be a great person, which is what I have been trying to be."

Another - admittedly less universal - question remains. As an established wine connoisseur, with what does Mauresmo intend to toast a second Wimbledon crown? Following her Australian Open victory last year she cracked open a bottle of 1937 Chateau d'Yquem, last seen retailing at more than £6,000. What tipple could possibly surpass that? She flashes back a knowing grin. "I'll find something, don't worry."

Oliver Brown is a sports writer for the Daily Telegraph.