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Why, when we have Wimbledon, are there so few British tennis players of world repute? A couple of months ago I was present at a lunch at which several leading officials from the Lawn Tennis Association attempted to answer this vexed question. Tennis, they said, was a popular game in Britain. More and more youngsters were joining tennis clubs and the quality and commitment of coaches had never been higher. It would not be long before the next Time Henman emerged to compete for all the right honours.
I was not convinced. Tennis in Britain is and will remain a minority sport: the game of the affluent white middle classes. It is not simply a question of the scarcity of public courts, nor of entrenched class prejudice on both sides, but also of attitude and perception.
A couple of years ago I joined the local tennis club in the small Hertfordshire town where I live. I took my subscription around to the club secretary, a grey-haired man in late middle age who lived in a detached house on a smart executive estate, a short walk away from the club itself. He greeted me with suspicion and received the envelope in which my cheque was enclosed as if it were a small bomb. He did not smile, nor did he pause to welcome me to the club. This was not simply generational English reserve: my overwhelming impression of the encounter was one of absolute coldness–and so it was at the club itself, where I remained a member for less than a year and scarcely played at all.
I often wondered how a young black, perhaps inspired by the Williams sisters, might have been received at the club, or others like it. Would his enthusiasm have survived a meeting with the club secretary, or with the middle-aged men and women who gathered around the bar to gossip about absent friends and about who was sleeping with whom and when?
Yet the Wimbledon championships, at which I watched the long-limbed teenage Russian sensation Maria Sharapova beat Serena Williams in the women’s final, is different. For all its facade of privilege and elitism–the strawberries and cream, the champagne, the green blazers, and the retired colonels (most of whom resemble a cross between Tim Yeo and Cecil Parkinson) who are everywhere to be seen, on the gates and in the press rooms–Wimbledon is an oddly democratic event. It is, I think, the only major international sporting event for which you can turn up on the day, pay on the gate, and get in without having had to order tickets, so long as you are prepared to queue.
The All-England Club itself is a place of grace and serenity. It is very commercial, but not ruthlessly so. It has, unlike Epsom, which in seeking to popularise the Derby has simply destroyed it, resisted turning Wimbled on into a mass day out for drunks and brawlers.
But something is wrong. And it has nothing to do with Wimbledon, or indeed with the introversion of so many tennis clubs. It is, rather, to do with the game itself, with tennis.
Tennis at the highest level is a supreme expression of individualism. It is not, unlike football, rugby or cricket, a team game, which attracts the devotion of supporters who follow a club or national side through the long narrative of a season or an international competition. Tim Henman has many fans, but ultimately he plays only for himself. He is, like most top professional players, a very accomplished money-making machine.
I concede that he occasionally represents Britain in the Davis Cup. But who in this country is interested in or knows anything about the Davis Cup? Who can say that they have been to watch a Davis Cup tie or when, if ever, Britain has won the competition?
No, tennis in Britain is not a game: it is, as Tim Adams wrote in Being John McEnroe (Yellow Jersey Press), his book about the American maverick, a fortnight. That is how it will remain.
Hunter Davies returns in the autumn
COPYRIGHT 2004 New Statesman, Ltd.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
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Andy Roddick, 21, is the youngest American ever to be ranked No. 1 by the Association of Tennis Professionals. The primary weapon in is arsenal? The most devastating serve in the sport, a rocket that has been clocked at 153 mph. He steamrolled the competition en route to victory in last year’s men’s U.S. Open, an event he hopes to win again this month. He’ll also represent the USA at the Olympics in Greece this summer for the first time. Off court, Roddick has been something of a sensation as well, appearing in the gossip pages (he dated pop princess Mandy Moore and is now canoodling with fashion model Lauren Bedford) and even wading into entertainment waters (last year he hosted an episode of Saturday Night Live). The Floridian shares his secrets of competition, motivation, and concentration–without smashing any racquets.
TAKE A CHANCE
When I was 17, I knew I was good enough to get a full tennis scholarship to the college I wanted to go to, so pro tennis never really entered my mind. Then I won a junior grand slam, and it came time to choose between going to college or going pro. I didn’t want to look back and wonder what might have been. People ask me what I would have studied in college, and I really have no idea [laughs]. So I’m kind of lucky this worked out.
ROLL WITH IT
It was pretty inconceivable for me to think that, out of every American who has ever been ranked No. 1–Agassi, Sampras, McEnroe, Connors, Courier, etc.–I was the youngest to get there. It was very surreal for me, but I try not to get too caught up with it. I think it’s just a trip.
MASTER YOUR DESTINY
I often get asked, “What advice would you give junior tennis players?” I say, “You’re the only one that can control how hard you work on a daily basis” Now, if I would have read this response from someone else, I’d feel like going, “Oh yeah, whatever.” But it actually makes sense and, as cheesy and stupid as it sounds, it’s true. You can’t control the weather, you can’t control what your opponent is doing, you can’t control a lot of things, but you can control what you put into it. If I am in the fourth hour of a match and I am confident that I put in more work than my opponent, then I know I’ve got a mental edge. My favorite quote is from the golfer Gary Player, who said, “The harder you work, the luckier you get.”
DEAL WITH IT
There are some guys who are negative all the time, and others who are in denial about how good they are. Some guys that get in a rut can’t do anything right and convince themselves they can’t play. It’s like, “Dude, if you keep telling yourself that, then it’s going to keep ringing true.” Everyone gets into a rut–it’s inevitable. It’s the way you deal with it that makes a difference. I start working harder. When I am playing well and everything is going well, I don’t feel the need to practice two hours a day. But if things aren’t going my way, then I try to get back to the drawing board as soon as possible. I try to fight back. It’s tough sometimes, but you have to give it a go.
TRY DIFFERENT THINGS
Hosting SNL was nerve-wracking, exciting, and awesome! It was weird because I felt completely vulnerable. If I play a bad tennis match, I know I’m still better than most people watching, but on SNL that was definitely not the case. But I am not actively pursuing an acting career–that’s not what I do.
IMPROVISE
Before a match, you have to set a strategy of what you want to do. But if your opponent is having an off day in one part of the game, then you might have to adjust in the middle. And if you’re doing something and it’s not working, then stop going to it.
USE YOUR FEAR
People try to portray me as this world-beating, overconfident guy, but no matter who it is I play, I am always seared going into a match. The more nervous I am about who I am playing, the better I play. When I am overconfident, that’s when I normally go down. I think the fear just makes me zone in a little more.
CHANGE WHAT DOESN’T WORK
Giving up is one thing I really don’t have in me. If I am playing terribly, I might think that I am going to lose, but that’s totally different than giving up. I might be like, “Dude, this just isn’t my day, but at least try to throw the kitchen sink at ‘em.” So I try to simplify things, even if it means, “OK, I’m going to put every ball in the court, even if I am not hitting great shots with pace or anything” I just try and make the guy hit more balls. I start playing different little games like that to get back into it.
CONTROL FRUSTRATION
In 2002 I broke 39 racquets. It’s pure frustration because I still can’t get a particular thing right, even though I have been playing the game my whole life. I can be having a great practice and then something goes wrong and then there goes that racquet, but then the rest of the practice will be fine. So it’s not like I am fuming or anything. My racquet company is not happy when I do that–sorry, guys [laughs]!
YOU CAN ALWAYS GET BETTER
As far as a goal goes, I think a gold medal would be amazing, but I just want to keep improving. I finished No. 1 in the world last year, but I still feel like I have things that I can improve. That excites me every day when I get up to practice. When Andre Agassi is interviewed, he’ll say, “I can improve this or improve that.” He’s someone that has done pretty much everything in the sport, and for me to sit back and be satisfied after hearing that is not an option.
LOVE YOUR COUNTRY
Winning the U.S. Open was my greatest moment, but being a part of the Davis Cup teams and now getting to play in the Olympics for the first time is amazing. Getting asked to represent your country is, I think, the highest honor one can get in sports.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Weider Publications
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
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