PARIS -- Her father, Stefano, once an Italian bit actor from Brindisi, was there. Her mother, Denise, a former stewardess now limping from hip surgery, was there. Her brother, Steven, an occasional hitting partner and the No. 1 player at the University of Arizona, also was there.

Everybody -- excluding all those horrid, whacked-out, nose ring-wearing, substance-abusing ghosts of teen-rebellion past -- was there for Jennifer Capriati on Saturday when the sunshine came out at Roland Garros and splashed all over the girl whose wondrous victory in the City of Light put paid to all those years she wallowed in the heart of darkness.

When Girl Interrupted won the longest last set in French Open history by 12 games to ten --out-nerving the day-after-birthday Belgian, Kim Clijsters, 18, who shockingly out-slugged Capriati in many of their baseline rallies and actually won more points in the match 131-126 -- it certified one of the more stunning, feel-good comebacks any athlete has composed in any sport.

Not merely that her winning the final match, 1-6, 6-4, 12-10, was that far removed from losing in the first round here last year -- to fabulous Fabiola Zuluaga. Clijsters also had been dropped in her opener last year.

Not merely that Capriati winning the French was any more impressive than her winning the Australian Open championship in January -- when she blew out Monica Seles, Lindsay Davenport and Martina Hingis, the past three Aussie champs. That was only her first major title since bursting on the scene at her introductory Slam right here in 1990 as an infant of 14.

Not even that The Capster -- having positively thrown away a huge title to one Willams sister (remember how she blew eight match points to Venus at Indian Wells?), then in Paris having whipped another one (Serena) as well as Hingis yet again -- was not expected to triumph easily over the young raw, freckle-faced Clijsters, who looked more like one of the Campbell's soup kids than the newest bomberette to invade Big Babe Tennis. She recovered from nerves and Clijsters' brave, attacking style to use her experience and finally raise her level and take command down the stretch of that dramatic, 77-minute deciding set.

But Jennifer Capriati? All the way back from a lost childhood, a broken family, a shattered career; back from behind bars, secret rehab and that sad, tragic Mug Shot? Jen Jen, who once broke down in tears facing the world press at the U.S. Open, now an inspirational figure -- "This is my happiness talking," she said afterward -- the best female player in the world, halfway to the Grand Slam, fresh as a young colt, composed as a veteran diva, poignantly greeting her fallen peer, Corina Morariu (who was back in Miami battling cancer), eloquently addressing the French crowd -- "You've been tremendous; I'll have to learn (the language) now"; Jennifer Capriati gloriously smiling, laughing and obviously, incontrovertibly sober?

Next thing we know, Robert Downey Jr. will be back snuggling with Ally.

In the match itself, fighting off Clijsters -- previously better known as Lleyton Hewitt's girlfriend than the hungry, power-hitting daughter of soccer star Leo, one of Belgium's most famous sportsmen -- was almost as difficult for Capriati as fighting herself. Chris Evert, who did the honors both in the commentators' box and at the trophy presentation, said the most significant aspect of the match was that Capriati won a championship when her game was so off-form.

But that may be taking too much away from Clijsters, who refused to let the presence of royalty (Prince Philippe and Princess Mathilde of her own country and Prince Albert of Monaco) and celebrity (noted sprinter Maurice Greene and Sean Connery) bother her from absolutely annihilating the future winner in the first set. "The (umpire's) microphone. ... I wasn't used to all those Belgian fans," Capriati said. "But (it was) probably just nerves and also that she was playing so well, and I didn't really know what to to."

So Capriati simply hung on, kept hitting out (Jennifer never has known any other way), and figured correctly that her 12th-seeded opponent -- Clijsters would have been the lowest seed ever to win a Grand Slam -- "in time had to let up a little."

In collective suspense and intensity, the climactic frame might have rivaled Paris' best of recent decades: Lendl-McEnroe '84, Seles-Graf '92, Graf-Sanchez Vicario '96 (the last two finished 10-8). Then there was Rene LaCoste beating Bill Tilden in 1927, 11-9 in the fifth. But who's counting?

We're counting drama, not brilliance -- on Saturday the two women alternated connecting on winning bullets that puffed up chalk from the sidelines and flinging outrageous framers practically to the Arc de Triomphe. In all, they combined for 155 unforced errors. "One or together?" laughed Capriati. "Gee, I was going to say that was a long match."

But after they exchanged service breaks to open the final set, Capriati and Clijsters held through ten straight games as the electricity rose to match the stakes. "It was just sort of the feeling of the match, the momentum," Capriati said. "It was just really intense. So maybe it just being physically so tough ... nothing is going to make you give it up or lose it mentally."

Down 5-6, having slapped her seventh double fault, Capriati was two points from losing the championship. But two errors by Clijsters saved her. The Capster then broke for the first time in about six days and at 7-6, served for the match. Twice she pounded the ball beyond the baseline, 7-all. Again, in the 16th game Capriati was on the brink, two points from losing. This time, she hit a let serve, then another let. Nerves? Clijsters slapped a return into the net, 8-all.

Obviously, nobody could win this blamed thing. Capriati broke Clijsters' serve at love for 10-9, but the new Belgian waffle -- who first came to prominence in the '99 Slams beating Amanda Coetzer at Wimbledon and nearly beating Serena Williams at the U.S. Open -- broke right back off a forehand that also hit the let cord and bounced in bounds, 10-all. Ultimately, Capriati was sustaining more power with more accuracy; Clijsters struck a flyer in the next game leading to one last Capriati break and, after the winner paused to let the Court Philippe Chatrier crowd conclude their characteristic wave -- recall the French somehow crave Jerry Lewis, too -- she went to serve for the match for the third time.

This time The Capster crossed everybody up -- including herself; "just being tired, I wanted to close it out. ... I was just willing to do anything" -- by coming to the net. Twice. She won both points and then crushed a winning forehand to the base that seemed to wrong-foot a partially slipping Clijsters.

It was over in 2:21 after which Capriati joyfully thanked everybody on the planet, most sincerely, her mom. "She's always loved me the same, no matter what," Jennifer said. The changes in Capriati's life, her comfort zone as a tennis star? "The last few years it's kind of been happening. I think it's maturity, getting older," she said. "All this is just my emotions talking. I really don't have to think about it. I'm just reacting to the moment."

"This was pure enjoyment. So many years and so much stuff. I told her: 'You deserve this,'" said Steve Capriati, who was barely 11 when his sister began her long, strange journey that in two weeks winds across the channel to the verdant lawns of Wimbledon.

Only Maureen Connolly, Margaret Court and Steffi Graf have won all four major titles -- Australia, France, Wimbledon and the U.S. Open -- in one calendar year. Monica Seles is the only other woman to win Australia and France back-to-back.

The Grand Slam, Jennifer. Do you think it's feasible this year?

"I think anything is visible (sic) right now," Capriati said. "I didn't maybe expect I would win my first, or second in a row. Who knows what can happen?"

But for now, for the Capster, it's health and happiness and her exquisite tennis that are happening. As the teenage Jen Jen prodigy used to say: that's like, I mean, you know, like, soooo visible.

Curry Kirkpatrick, a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine, first covered the French Open in 1976. E-mail him at curry.kirkpatrick@espnmag.com.