Monday,
November 3, 2003
Bud Collins on the 50th Anniversary of the Tennis
Hall of Fame
An English scribbler named Shakespeare put some famous last words
on the tongue of King Richard III, down on his luck and without transportation
in 1485 at the Battle of Bosworth Field: "A horse!
A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"
Had the Bard been hanging out at Newport, Rhode Island in 1879, he
might have described the embattled James Gordon Bennett, Jr., as crying:
"Damned horse is costing me a piece of my kingdom!"
What was the horse's name? As in the case of Paul Revere's,
we'll never know. But the steed in question, ridden by a polo-playing
ex-cavalry officer from England, one Capt. Candy, unwittingly played
an important role in tennis history.
In the spirit of good fun, James Gordon Bennett, wealthy publisher
of the New York Herald, summering by the sea at Newport, bet Capt.
Candy that he wouldn't have the audacity to enter a private club called
The Reading Room on horseback.
But Candy, like Teddy Roosevelt charging up San Juan Hill, did just
that - to the consternation and annoyance of the members, whose reading
mostly consisted of perusing labels at the bar. Stodgy chaps,
they revoked Bennett's membership.
Sturdy chap, Bennett responded in rich guy style by building his own
club a few blocks down the street, calling it The Casino. Not
a casino for gambling (such as he had indulged in with Capt. Candy),
but a place of pleasure, another meaning of the Italian word.
The principal pleasure amid enchanting architecture was tennis on
well-manicured grass courts - and still is. But since 1954 The
Casino, risen from the drawing board of the renowned Stanford
White in 1880, has been enhanced by the presence of the International
Tennis Hall of Fame and its engrossing museum, certainly pleasing
to those sports aficionados who have trooped through during the last
a half-century.
For Bennett the piece of his kingdom was the price tag: $ 125,000.
Although a lot of cash for that offhanded wager on a horse, it was
trifling if you amortize 123 years of pleasure for tennis faithful,
and consider the fact that, unintentionally, Bennett was providing
a spiritual kingdom for the game's immortals.
That kingdom's golden anniversary has arrived, to be celebrated in
July with the welcoming of two more radiant champions to their
investiture: a Gernan, Mrs. Andre Agassi (aka Steffi Graf),
and a Swede, Stefan Edberg.
Spectating pleasure began in 1881 on courts tucked in here and there,
alongside the the timbered gems from White's imagination: a clock
tower, the horseshoe piazza, balconies and dormers, spidery woodwork
on various shingled buildings as well as a grandstanded show court
that now seats 3600. It was the year that the newly formed U.S.
Tennis Association awarded the inaugural U.S. Championships to The
Casino, and a 19-year-old from Boston, Dick Sears, claimed the first
of his seven successive singles titles.
Newport's swells, elegantly turned-out ladies and gentlemen, predominated
in crowds that delighted in the annual tournament, the U.S. Championships
(for men), that remained at The Casino 34 years until moving to New
York in 1915. However, yearly tournaments of note have continued
to this day, making Newport a stopover on the global ATP Tour.
Under the banner of the Jimmy Van Alen Cup, the resident tourney has
stuck to God's own sod, the last American professional event on grass.
The name Van Alen has long been important in Newport, and you could
think of the Hall of Fame as a sort of mom-and-pop success.
It was another Candy (Mrs. Candace Van Alen) whose idea for the Hall
set in motion her irrepressible husband, Jimmy, and gave The Casino
new meaning.
Impressed by their visit to the Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown,
N.Y., she asked Jimmy, a Newport lifer who presided over The Casino's
tournaments, "Shouldn't tennis have a Hall of Fame, too?"
An affirmative reply came from him. A cherubic, ebullient character
in planter's straw hat and burgundy blazer, Jimmy, who died at 90
in 1991, would become known as the Newport Bolshevik - either a salute
or a condemnation -- for his revolutionary notions about changing
tennis scoring. One of them - hallelujah! - the tie-breaker,
altered the game positively. Auditioned at The Casino in a 1965
pro tournament that he bankrolled, the breaker was adopted by the
USTA in 1970 after his relentless lobbying, eventually spreading to
the rest of the world.
American administrators were used to Jimmy's campaigning since he
had done the same on behalf of the Hall, and in 1954 the USTA sanctioned
a National Tennis Hall of Fame. Launched rather lifelessly in
1955 - original champ Dick Sears plus six other U.S. titleholders
were posthumous inductees - the process began to flesh out with the
Class of '56. Four of those six were alive. Foremost was
Californian May Sutton Bundy, the first American to win Wimbledon
in 1905, repeating in 1907, after winning the U.S. in 1904.
Very nice, thought Van Alen, but limiting the Hall to Americans was,
well, too limiting in a game whose charm is the universal aspect.
By 1975 the scope had been broadened, along with the name, to International
Tennis Hall of Fame. Fred Perry, the last Englishman to conquer
Wimbledon (1934-35-36), arrived at Newport to signify that it was
now everybody's Hall.
Imposing and jaunty as ever, Fred laughed, "This is like attending
your own embalming."
As a follow-up, the Class of '76 was gilded by the Gallic flair of
France's Four Musketeers who monopolized the Davis Cup from 1927 through
1932: Jean Borotra, Jacques Brugnon, Henri Cochet, Rene Lacoste.
A large majority of the Famers made their marks as amateurs prior
to 1968 in the pre-open era. Some of them such as two
eminent Americans, the Class of '64's Don Budge, the pioneering Grand
Slammer of 1938, and Bill Tilden ('59), with 10 major singles titles,
turned pro to capitalize near career's end. Aussies Rod Laver ('81),
the double Grand Slammer of 1962 and 1969, and all-time champ Margaret
Court ('79) with 62 majors in singles, doubles and mixed, split their
careers between amateurism and professionalism.
Swede Bjorn Borg ('87), winner of five Wimbledons and six French,
and Aussie Evonne Goolagong ('88), winner of seven major singles,
are the first pure products of the open era, pros all the way.
Likewise Czech-born American Martina Navratilova ('00), but not everything
has been past tense for her. A rare post-induction laborer,
she maintained doubles virtuosity to win the Australian and Wimbledon
mixed, accompanied by Indian Leander Paes in 2002, raising her majors
total to 58 titles as she reached age 47.
There was more loot after Newport, too, for America's Old Wolf, Richard
(Pancho) Gonzalez. A grandfather, 40, when anointed in '68,
he still had six more singles titles up his short sleeve, the last
in 1972.
The beauty of this tennis Valhalla, as Van Alen often proclaimed,
is that it's a living Hall, an active playpen. He preached,
"Nothing pertinent to baseball ever happened at Cooperstown,
or at the other sports halls for that matter. But championship
tennis keeps going on here, and the greats are hailed on a court where
greats have played for more than a century."
A considerable number of the Famers have played The Casino. Americans
Chris Evert, Class of '95, Billie Jean King ('87), Tony Trabert ('70),
Rosie Casals ('96), Pam Shriver ('02), as well as `Aussies Ken Rosewall
and Lew Hoad had all won titles on the court where they were
tapped, an expanse of lawn that has been named for American Famer
Bill Talbert ('67). American John McEnroe ('99) had won a Davis
Cup match. American Dick Williams ('57), the Miracle Man of
Tennis, who swam away from the Titanic and survived in ice water for
six hours, won the last U.S. title staged there in 1914.
Selected by a global panel of experienced tennis journalists, the
Famers, an illustrious assemblage of 182, represent 19 countries.
Not all of them are players. There is room for others who've
advanced the game. Taken in as one of seven administrators,
W.E. (Slew) Hester ('81) was the USTA president who boldly lifted
the U.S. Open from Forest Hills and directed the construction of the
National Tennis Center at Flushing Meadow in 1978. Among seven
journalists, American Gladys Heldman ('79) founded and edited World
Tennis Magazine, and was a wise, guiding influence in the formation
of the women's pro tour. The Hall's innovative promoter, Van
Alen ('65) also has his deserved niche.
Those three have departed, but surely they belong to the congregation
of luminous ghosts whose presence you sense in the nostalgic atmosphere.
Of course a band plays "When the Saints Go Marching In!"
at every induction ceremony. Maybe they should add to the repertory
the sporty tune "Camptown Races" as a salute to that unknown
horse whose illicit hoofing was responsible, in a roundabout way,
for The Casino's existence.
<<<Back