You could almost hear the roar from Beijing office towers as sports fans following the Australian Open on their work computers learned the news that Li Na was through to the final.

Ms. Li’s semifinal victory in Melbourne over World No. 1 Caroline Wozniacki, which makes her the first Chinese player to reach a Grand Slam singles final, is cause for national celebration. Best-selling author Lian Yue, writing on Sina’s microblogging site, declared breathlessly that Ms. Li possessed the qualities to be the new face of China: “Independent, natural, humorous, perserverant and speaking fluent English.”

To that list of attributes, add one more: female.

One of the enduring mysteries of modern sports in China is why the top ranks of tennis are exclusively a female preserve.

As Chinese women storm their way up the global tennis rankings, it’s becoming more than a little embarrassing for the men. Ms. Li now ranks 11th in the world. She’s one of four Chinese women in the Top 100. Meanwhile, the best a Chinese man can manage is 317.

It’s not as though Chinese men haven’t had encouragement. There’s been no greater role model for young Chinese players than Michael Chang, the Chinese American ace who fought through devastating muscle cramps—at one point serving underhand–to become the youngest-ever men’s champion at Roland Garros in 1989. The Chinese tennis establishment has thrown money and resources at both sexes in roughly equal measure as they try to popularize the sport in China. The hearts of Chinese tennis fans ache for a male champion as much as for a female. In table tennis and badminton, men and women are represented about evenly at the very top.

And yet every significant milestone in China’s recent rise in the tennis world has been claimed by a woman. At the Athens Olympics in 2004, Chinese women won gold in the tennis doubles. Four years later, Zheng Jie became the first Chinese singles player in any Grand Slam semifinal at Wimbledon. Ms. Li was the first Chinese player to win a WTA Tour event, and the first to break into the world’s Top Ten.

Asked about this in Melbourne, Ms. Li groped for a reason. “Maybe the men don’t trust themselves a lot,” the French news agency AFP quoted her as saying. “They don’t have high goals.”

Or maybe they aren’t rebellious enough. Much has been made of the flower tattoo on Ms. Li’s chest, which marks her out as a free spirit in China. She walked away from the Chinese state sports establishment and its rigid training regime and has found success with her husband, Shan Jiang, as her coach.

China has a long history of venerating strong women, such as folk hero Hua Mulan. If she wins in Melbourne, China will have yet another female icon to adore.