Friday, November 14, 2003
Bud Collins on Billie Jean King

Rosie Casals used to call her "Old Lady." That was 35 years ago. Billie Jean King was 25, and seemed ancient to her doubles partner, 18-year-old Rosie.

"Now the 'Old Lady' really is the Old Lady," laughs Elton John, "and I love her more all the time."

Applauding his comment Saturday night, Casals shakes her head in wonder.  "I kidded her about being old but I couldn't imagine her ever being 60."

"Neither could I, but here I am, 60," grins Billie Jean (though not quite).

If the guy flies in from England to croon "Happy Birthday!" personally to you, and he's already written a song in your honor - your name must be Billie Jean Moffitt King and his is Elton John.

Yes, the same Elton John, afflicted by lifetime tennis madness but condemned to earn a living as best he can elsewhere as a tunesmith, came to town to throw a 60th birthday party for his old pal, Billie Jean, at the posh Beverly Hills Hotel.  Just Elton, Billie Jean and 220 friends of the croonee.

It was a huggin', kissin', hoofin', hallelujah! Bash that would have made even Ebenezer Scrooge boogie-on-down.

"Elton and I have been friends since 1973," she is saying, looking bouncy as ever in tuxedo and black lace tutleneck, short hair nicely tinted auburn.  Her blue eyes are vibrant and determined, as they were when Bobby Riggs peered into them and saw only disaster.  "That was quite a year, 1973.  A lot of good things happened to us" - meaning the struggling female tennis laborers, for whom she has been "Mother Freedom."

A joyful 30th anniversary trifecta for the "Little Broads of Women's Lob" - Gladys Heldman's affectionate appellation for the revolutionary tennis libbers -- was being celebrated during the season-ending playoffs at Staples Center.

It started with the founding of the WTA (Women's Tennis Association), the female union, in London.  Then came the prize money breakthrough at the U.S. Open when the U.S. Tennis Association, Bostonian Walter Elcock presiding, first paid equal cash to the men and women.  The $ 25,000 first prizes (dwarfing the payoffs at Wimbledon, the Australian and French Opens) went to Aussies Margaret Court and John Newcombe.

But the piece de resistance was her dynamite resistance to the geezerly chauvinistic challenge of 55-year-old Bobby Riggs, 6-4, 6-3, 6-3, at Houston's Astrodome, luring 30,472 customers and record TV ratings.  A schlockathon of Everestian hype, the match between two Wimbledon champs - his title in 1939, however - meant nothing in the record books.  But everything in boosting the stock of the formative women's tour.  Particularly since Riggs had defeated No. 1 Margaret Court four months before.  Billie Jean knew she had to defend the faith in the female game.

"Of course people still bring it up wherever I go," BJ smiles, "and I'm pleased.  But it was the founding of the WTA that means the most to me.  To show young girls that there could be a professional future in the game.  It's going to get better.  Look at this tournament (the WTA Bank of America Championships), with a $ 3 million pot, and a million-dollar first prize.  What was it the first year, 1972?" 

Twelve grand.

Kim Clijsters, the younger of Belgium's "Brussels Sprouts," won the championship for a second successive year in a 52 minute, 6-2, 6-0, crushing of Amelie Mauresmo, who had plucked the other "Sprout," No. 1 Justine Henin-Hardenne, in the semis, 7-6 (7-2), 4-6, 6-3.  Presenting the King Trophy to 20-year-old Kim was the namesake, saying graciously, "Of all my titles, this is one I never managed to win."

Billie Jean was the front woman for the WTA.  Preaching revolt -- separation from the men, whose selfishness kept prize money lopsided in their favor, and playing as strongly she as she led.  Plotting and planning in the background was the late Gladys Heldman, the publisher of World Tennis Magazine.  The two of them were point women as the "Long Way Babies" began their long march as dauntlessly as Chairman Mao made his.

"We were in London for Wimbledon," King recounts '73, "and called a player meeting at the Gloucester Hotel.  I told Betty Stove [a muscular 6-footer] to lock the door.  Nobody was leaving until we got the WTA formed."  Naturally BJ was the first president.

"When I was a little kid, did I ever think about being 60?" BJ giggles.  "Yeah, I thought I'd make it and I'm glad I did.  What I hoped, when I was about 12, and tennis had me and I had tennis, was that I'd still be involved in the game.  So, sure, this is great."

She remains active in World Team Tennis which she and then-husband, Larry King, launched in - of course - 1973.  Next week she captains the U.S. expeditionary force invading Moscow for the Federation Cup playoffs, the world team championship embracing as well Belgium, France and Russia.

A season of serial birthday bashes for BJ began three weeks ago - "a shocking surprise in New York.  I was invited to a small dinner party - and it turned out to be a large benefit in my name for the Women Sports Foundation.  They raised a million bucks for the foundation, so how could I worry that it wasn't the right date.  I was really happy because I think our tennis rise has been an example for other women's sports."

Regardless of the sports played by women, Billie Jean is an icon, lauded as a torch bearer lighting the way to respect and decent treatment.

Saturday's bash, sprung for by Elton John wasn't really the correct date either.  November 22 is genuine, a day for vodka and caviar in Moscow.  Maybe President Putin will send a cake with red, white and blue icing (Russia's colors, too).

"If we're lucky and beat Belgium in the semis, we'll be playing either France or Russia for the Cup" - a trinket that ought to be re-named the King Cup.  She was there at the start, armed with racket, shod in sneakers, driving a final round triumh over Australia.  "Another anniversary," she laughs.  "The 40th.  The Cup began in 1963."

How does she rate birthdays? 

"My favorites are 11 - and this one, 60.  When I was 11, a friend in Long Beach [Calif.] where I grew up, Susan Williams, asked me if I wanted to play tennis.  I said, what's that?  What happens?  I'd never seen it.  I was playing basketball, football, softball, running track.  Susan said, well, it's running and jumping and hitting a ball.  Wow, that's for me I thought.

"We played and I was no good, but I loved it. I heard that a playground coach, Clyde Walker, was giving free lessons, so I asked my parents if I could play.  My dad [a Long Beach fireman, Bill Moffitt] said sure, but I'd have to earn the racket.  I did odd jobs around the neighborhood to earn the money: eight dollars and 29 cents.  I loved that wooden racket.  Purple with purple strings.  I was to find out all you need is a racket, a ball and a dream.

"After the first lesson, I came home elated, telling my parents I was gonna be No. 1 in the world.  They smiled tolerantly."

But there was an early comedown.  At 12, her kids tournament debut in LA, Little Miss Moffitt bumped into male authoritarianism for the first (but not last) time. 

"Perry Jones, who ran tennis in Southern Cal as a czar, yanked me out of the lineup for a photo of entrants because I wasn't 'dressed properly.'  I was wearing shorts my mother made me and a polo shirt.  I'd never seen a tennis dress like Mr. Jones insisted on.  I was heartbroken.  But I had to suck it up.  I hoped times would change, and they did.  I also lost in the second round," she chuckles, "but I was on my way."

The first gleaming milestone was reached in 1961, the year of BJ's initial Wimbledon title, the doubles in the company of Karen Hantze.  By then her coach and close friend, Clyde Walker, was dying of cancer.  He willed himself to live long enough to hear the news that his pupil was a Wimbledon champ.  Nineteen titles would follow at the Big W for a grand total of 20, the record, the last in doubles, shared with Martina Navratilova in 1979.  Twenty-four years later Martina gained a share in the record by winning the mixed doubles alongside Leander Paes.  

Betty Moffitt, Billie Jean's 81-year-old mother who attended the Sunday fete, with her dad, 85, can grin now about that long-ago photo incident at the Los Angeles Tennis Club, and saw to it that there were dresses..  "But how was I to know a little girl wasn't supposed to wear shorts in a tournament?  We wondered if Billie would be discouraged, but learned that didn't happen."

Elton John, impressed by that gutsy fact, wrote the dedicatory tune, "Philadelphia Freedom," for BJ in 1974 after the inaugural season of World Team Tennis, when she was player-coach of the Philadelphia Freedoms.

"He told me he was going to do it, and I was thrilled." 

Elton says he was thrilled when it made No. 1 on the charts.   "She's been inspirational to me with the passion she puts into tennis.  I try to put the same passion into my music.

Seated at the piano, he entertained for almost two hours, belting out his captivating songs and ravishing the keys.  The rendition of "Philadelphia Freedom" was a knockout, all right, but even beyond expectations: "Shine the light on me, shine the light…shine on me, shine the light…Philadelphia  Freedom I loooooove you - yes I do!"

By then, as the love flowed, people were up and dancing among the dinner tables.

Elton says BJ has been his shining light for three decades.  "We met in '73, and she's meant so much to me.  We're both basically shy people, no matter what the public face, and we gravitated toward each other.

"I'm no angel.  I had bad times, abusing booze and a lot of other things - and I tried to avoid her then because I knew she didn't approve.  I was in the hospital, trying to recover.  She got to me.  She understood.  She helped.

"I loved watching her play.  Oh, that passion!"

As for innumerable viewers, her victory over His Piggishness, Bobby Riggs, stands out  for Elton- more so because of the consequences.  "I was watching on TV, in this hotel, and I was shouting, screaming for her non-stop.  I yelled so hard that I lost my voice."  That is something a singer shouldn't do.  "I couldn't do a performance the next night."

It cost him a few bucks, but "was worth it."

Considering his performance fees, the birthday party, a lavish dinner, may have cost him a million, but that, too, was worth it.  Into Monday morning it spilled with a DeeJay taking over for Elton, and just about everybody dancing.  Closing it down, jitterbugging to Glenn Miller's "Pennsylvania Six-Five-Thousand" were the Moffitts, the octogenarian parents who gave us the thriller called Billie Jean.

With a grin as wide and bubbly as Niagara Falls, BJ watched Betty and Bill cutting a rug. "You can see where I get my energy."

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