Campbell's Hall of Fame Championships, Newport
CLASS OF 2005 TAPPED FOR TENNIS SAINTHOOD, ENTER HALL OF FAME

NEWPORT, R.I. - Memories.   “Thanks for the memories…” as Bob Hope used to sing.   Hope's game was golf.   But the memories in this neighborhood will make tennis junkies sing, too. Memories of the the brilliant men and women who created indelible ones and have their niches behind the huge green door at The Casino on Bellevue Avenue. That's the, home of the International Tennis Hall of Fame, storehouse of memories, as well as the lone uppermost-level grass court tourney in the U.S.

The second Saturday of July was the day of the year when the past embraced the present, and memories of greatness abounded.   Breezes off Narragansett Bay whisper of bygone deeds and occasions   -- many golden, others, well, zinc because we're talking about humans after all. Those freshets soothed a new tribe of invaders, extending a tradition that goes back to 1881.

Since then, Newport's grass-paved Casino, the elder among the world's   tournament-presenting tennis parlors, has been in the business.   Originally it was the U.S. Men's Championships until 1915.   That event moved to New York where it would become the U.S. Open in 1968.   But other tourneys moved in, currently an ATP stopover, the Campbell's Hall of Fame Championships for the Van Alen Cup.

For the last 51 years the aged playpen has been the domicile of the Hall of Fame.   So with the Hall's Class of 2005 - Jim Courier, Jana Novotna, Yannick Noah, Butch Buchholz - anointed for tennis sainthood, the scene was a busy blend of then-and-now.

To the globetrippers on the ATP Tour, the “Curse of the Casino” is well known.   Never in the last 29 years has the top-seeded guy won Newport.   This time around 1st seeded Taylor Dent (ranked No. 29) was quickly in the soup (Campbell's?), sunk by No. 129, South African Wesley Moodie, 6-4, 6-1, in the second round.

The title would eventually go for a third time to the lofty British left-hander Greg Rusedski over Floridian Vinnie Spadea, 7-6 (7-3, 2-6, 6-4).   Happier on grass than a Japanese beetle or Juliette, Roger Federer's cow, Rusedski has won 20 per cent of his 15 career titles on the sod of the Casino, the last of grass in the U.S.

But the place seemed anything but accursed to the new kids on the Fame block:    
Buchholz, 64, Noah, 45, Novotna, 36, and Courier, 34, felt blessed.   

“It's something you dream about,” said Jana Novotna.   Her blond tresses blew in the wind, and tears flowed as she talked of her gratitude to her mother, Eva Novotna, and how thankful she was that her mother had lived through a serious illness.

That stopped the show. Prolonged applause erupted from the throng of 3749 as Eva stepped from the sidelines to hug and kiss Jana.

It reminded some of Novotna weeping uncontrollably at Wimbledon in 1993 after blowing a seeming winning lead in the final to Steffi Graf.   

“But,” she said, “that was a positive experience to come so close to Steffi.   But I lost the final again (Martina Hingis, 1997), and felt pressure until I finally won over [Nathalie] Tauziat in 1998.”

Novotna, a centurion with 100 titles (24 singles 76 doubles) is an endangered species.   Nobody devotes that much time and effort to both sides of the game any more.

A pioneering pro, Earl (Butch) Buchholz kept laboring almost out of sight with that hardy few (Pancho Gonzalez, Tony Trabert, Ken Rosewall, Rod Laver, Lew Hoad), “pursuing the dream of open tennis that arrived in 1968.”

An excellent player, winner of the U.S. Pro in 1962, Buchholz made it to the Hall largely on his administrative expertise, and founding the renowned Nasdaq-100 Open at Key Biscayne, Fla.   He recalled his amateur days, and the Newport tourney.   “First time I came here was as a teen-ager. I played Whitney Reed” - the devil-may-care Californian ranked No. 1 in 1961.   “I double faulted on match point,” Butch said.   “Whitney caught the ball and threw it back, saying, 'Serve it again, kid. It's no fun to win like that.' “

Yannick Noah, the Cameroon-raised French citizen, barely showed up, completing an odyssey that began at 4 AM Saturday in Mallorca, Spain.   A compelling singer and songwriter, he had completed a gig in a local club, hopped a chartered jet to Paris, next a commercial flight to New York, then another charter to Newport.

He felt blessed by his friendship with the late Arthur Ashe.   “Arthur came to Cameroon on a State Department visit when I was 11 [1971].   He saw me hitting balls with a board - we were very poor. He gave me a racket and recommended me to the French Tennis Federation.   They brought me to France to train, and I became a player.

“But that racket Arthur gave me…it was my friend.   I slept with it.”

Noah introduced dreadlocks to tennis, and dread to opponents with his gung-ho style.   It was an impatient charge, and charge some more, approach, backed by acrobatic   volleying and a limber 6-foot-4 frame.   His countryfolk are grateful to Ashe, too, because Noah is the lone Gallic winner of the French Open in the last 58 years, one of his 23 titles.   Later, as captain, he steered French Davis Cup triumphs in 1991 and 1996 and a Federation Cup victory in 1997.

For Jim Courier the day was “the culmination of many highlights in my lucky life.   It's a bright mark on the road of achievement.”

He also has a sweet feeling for the French Open.   “When I won in 1991 [over Andre Agassi], it was a life changer.   I was viewed in a different way by other players and other people, put in a higher category.   I felt more complete, more ambitious.”   

Three more majors would be his: the French of 1992, the Australian of 1992-93, and the world No. 1 ranking in 1992.   Those accomplishments were backboned by his signature maneuver, the backside boogie.   Shuffling quickly to his left, shaking his rear, he delivered   crushing inside-out forehands.

“I started out wanting to be a baseball player like my dad, Courier said. [papa “Big Jim” Courier, a lefty, once went 7-0 for Cotuit in the Cape Cod League.]   I played both games from 7 to 13, then committed to tennis.”

He hailed “my folks and my sister and brother for all the weekends they sacrificed taking me to junior tournaments.   My dad would play country and western music on the radio all the way.   I can't stand to hear it today.   My mom always gave me Raisin Bran for breakfast, and I can't stand that either,” Jim laughed.

But the game of tennis could certainly stand him, Jana, Butch and Yannick, and be brightened to have four more like them.

They did a triumphal lap of the stadium court as the crowd cheered, then departed.   Taking the past with them, they left the present with Vinnie Spadea and Greg Rusedski.

An Australian-American coalition - Jordan Kerr from Adelaide and Jim Thomas of Canton, Ohio - repeated their 2004 triumph in the doubles, beating Americans Graydon Oliver and Travis Parrott, 7-6 (7-5), 7-6 (7-5).   

On this 40th anniversary of the tie-breaker - inaugurated here - the sire, Jimmy Van Alen, would have been pleased that 3 of the day's 5 sets were breakers.

Van Alen, who died in 1991, was also founder of the Hall of Fame, an innovative man who meant a lot to the game.

Rookie Famer Buchholz recalled Jimmy's sometimes radical ideas.   “I was here in 1965 when Jimmy introduced the tie-breaker. It was a pro tournament that he underwrote so that he could show off his scoring ideas, VASSS [Van Alen Streamlines Scoring System].   This was three years before open tennis arrived and we pros - Rod Laver, Pancho Gonzalez, Ken Rosewall, Lew Hoad to name the top four - were glad to play anywhere under any rules for such good money.   It was $ 10,000 total, which seemed a fortune then.”

Those all-time great pros felt lucky that Jimmy lifted 10-grand from his wealthy mother's cookie jar to allow them to perform.

“We didn't understand the tie-breaker,” Butch said, “but of course it became very important, generally accepted five years later.   The umpires led us through it.   Most of us didn't like it then, but it would become an integral part of the game.”

It's virtually the only improvement in rules over the last 125 years.

Van Alen, a visionary, would be pleased by the Hall itself that seemed a sort of pot-luck, garage sale collection when he got it started in 1954.

Now the museum is a marvelous tour through the eras of the game, an absorbing walk through history.   Every tennis lover should make the journey to the storehouse of memories.

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