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[[Well, our far-flung correspondents have returned from Atlantic City and weighed in via email. Occasionally, I hear footsteps and start looking over my shoulder when I read a "guest post," and I think you'll agree that if Skip 1515 swings a racket as deftly as a pen, you wouldn't want to meet him on a tennis court anytime soon. . . His report follows. I'll add some thoughts Twitter Queen GVgirl (@GVTennisNews) sent along tomorrow. You can discuss today's action here. - PB]]
by Skip Schwarzman (Skip1515), TW Special Contributor
Hannah the Younger (who's just 17, while Amelia the Elder is almost 21) woke up just in time to see the sign overhead as we drove into the parking lot at Caesars Casino in Atlantic City: “Welcome To The Glory That Was Ancient Rome.”
Although neither of my girls is as obsessed with tennis as I once was, both of them play, while my wife Lynn, who's a movement therapist (Alexander Technique) is a seasoned spectator. And here were Hannah and I, making an easy road trip from our home in Philadelphia to see the Atlantic City exo, in Boardwalk Hall. The venue was previously known as the Atlantic City Convention Center but the city built a new center when it turned to gambling. At the original center, you could walk out the door and stare out, across the beach, at the Atlantic ocean. When I was a kid, the ACC annually hosted an indoor football game. At the time, that was nothing short of amazing: “What crazy kind of building is big enough to house a football game?”
The matches would be played in the Hall, but the Caesar's casino featured a "tennis village" full with displays from tennis equipment and accessory manufacturers and retailers. The schedule of matches was created in a way that allowed ticket holders plenty of free time between the matches and the pre-and-post match parties, so you could go drop a quarter in a slot machine, or seven. Not that i begrudge them that; I don't hold anyone's desire to earn a buck against him.
We eventually took our seats. I told Hannah that at the Madison Square Garden Sampras-Federer exo, the players had walked out through a dense fog of dry ice. She looked astounded. Then the lights dimmed and the same fog came pouring out of the entrance to the court. Hannah grinned from ear to ear. And then Caesars trumped the Garden: The players were escorted by Roman Centurions and a Centurionette. Hannah said she never knew that the Romans used so much lamé and ostrich feathers. Suddenly she decided that "Centurionette" had become her new career choice, saying, “You get to hang with so many celebrities!”
The players were introduced. Roddick,wearing cargo shorts and something akin to Docksiders, was the only one not in tennis clothes. He received a robust round of applause. Venus, the putative hostess, was finally introduced. Someone remarked that there were 39 Grand Slam titles represented by the assembled cast of players. That was pretty impressive.
While Ivan Lendl and Mats Wilander warmed up, I pointed out that they weren't banging the ball. Instead, they worked it slowly, to find their rhythm. “The pace will pick up,” I predicted, hoping she'd get the message and do the same when she plays. In fact the pace did pick up, although not to the point where it was comparable to what the players might have produced in their salad years.
On the very first point, Wilander returned Lendl’s serve up the middle of the court. Lendl took it as a backhand, sliced, and the ball landed about 6 feet in front of him. It’s nice to know that everyone-but everyone - gets nervous. When Lendl and Wilander played a long point, I heard the first shot-by-shot commentary from the man seated next to me - the words would be repeated, over and over, throughout the night: Nice. Nice. Nice. Niiiiiiice. Nice. Nice. Very Nice. Nice.”
Clearly, this man has studied to be a sportscaster. . .
According to Justin the Gimelstob, the emcee for the night, this was the first competitive match for Lendl in 16 years. Well, it showed. And I say that with all due respect, for Lendl has earned it. “The guy was huge,” I told Hannah, “He introduced the modern power game, the concept of being super fit, the big serve/forehand combos. . .he made the US Open 8 straight years and, oh yeah. . . power.”
Wilander handled Lendl pretty easily, 6-2. It was clear Lendl wasn't able to tap into or show very much of all those things that made him great. He connected with a few serves, but that was about it. Still, there was something comforting jabout just watching that familiar service preparation - you remember how he compulsively does that little grip adjustment just as he begins his motion. It's still his trademark.
Both Lendl and Wilander hit more slice backhands in that match than, probably, during any 5-year span in their pro careers, with plenty of classic 1973-vintage sliced-backhand to sliced-backhand clay-court style rallies. The only thing is, neither player is, or ever rally was, a 1973 clay courter. Why so much slice? For a host of reasons, probably, but one of them has to be that it’s physically more economical.
How odd it was seeing Lendl move up into the court, hit a slice backhand - and retreat. But it wasn't entirely out of character, not if you tracked his career start to finish. I remember watching him play a match against Wojtek Fibak in Philly, back when Fibak was still the young Lendl's coach and mentor. Fibak had a reputation as one of the shrewdest tacticians in the game, and all he did in that match with his protege was feed Lendl short, sliced balls to the (then) Czech’s backhand.
At the time, Lendl had only a drive backhand and he was averse to approaching the net, so the tactic was very effective (Federer has re-introduced that short backhand slice ploy - to good effect - there's nothing new under the sun, after all). But playing your coach - that has to be another version of purgatory and it happened with reasonable frequency back when the economics of the game forced aging but still solid pros to worry about their cash flow.
Wilander is still lithe, and his movement was much better than Lendl’s. During the on-court interview afterward, it sounded like Lendl complained a bit about his back (it was back problems that forced him into retirement in the first place). It was hard to tell, though, because the sound produced by the PA system was murky at best.
I was left thinking that these men are of another age, and wedded to a different style of play. Both men hit with less topspin than modern players (is that a harsh adjective to use against athletes whose careers seem so recent?). Actually, Wilander’s two-handed backhand reminds me of nothing so much as Roddick’s: he uses a short backswing, kind of poke-y, with not much snapping of the racket head at the end.
Wilander provided the best tactical insight of the night when he observed that he’s probably the worst guy for Lendl to have made his return to tennis against; he doesn’t hit the ball hard, and consequently gives Lendl nothing with which to work. When Lendl accused Wilander of never missing a ball, the Swede sheepishly agreed: "Well, yes, I don’t miss much.”
Next came Sampras and Safin. The warm-up promised scintillating shotmaking. I told Hannah that she was about to see the greatest serve, ever. That opinion was reinforced by a teaching pro, Jared, who sat near us. The Sampras serve always has been exquisitely smooth, seemingly effortless. As Jared said, “Yeah, he just walks through it and. . . Boom!”
!Hannah I also told Hannah (that's her in the photo, watching a Federer match) that Safin has maybe the most perfect two-handed backhand, ever, and advised her to just listen to the way his ball met and came off the strings. But Sampras didn’t put Safin into position to deply that shot too often. Once again, the backhand slice seemed the stroke de jour, so our chances to see the magic of Safin's big backhand were limited. When Safin served, though, the acoustic effect was just incredible - comparable to the crack of a rifle, sharp, crisp, loud and. . . loud! It was wholly different from the sound of a Sampras or Roddick serve. I’m not saying better, just different. I don’t know if there’s any other player about whom I’d say that I take great pleasure in just listening to the sound of the ball he hits.
People often complain that Pete didn't come in often enough, and point out that his strokes were underrated, overshadowed by that big, booming serve and its effect on the length of any given point. But as Hannah watched Pete come to net yet again, she remarked, “Man, he really serves and volleys all the time.”
Yes, I thought, Mr. Peabody has cranked up with Wayback Machine.
Mr. 14 put on a lovely display of volleying, including a flurry of sweet half-volleys. As much as anything it’s a pleasure just to watch someone who’s comfortable operating at the net. And while there were big serves - an abundance of big servers - there were far fewer big returns. Oh, Safin tagged a few, whistling the ball past a hard-charging Sampras. Undeterred, Pistol Pete fearlessly chipped-and-charged many times when Safin had to serve a second ball.
And Safin? Well, his movement isn't what it once was, which is no big surprise. Watching him walk on the changeovers you could see that he favored his right leg, so it was clear that he his ability to go to his right would be hampered. But he still had enough to earn his "W."
The proceedings shifted into hyper-exo mode during the Sampras-Roddick match that followed. Sampras gives up 8 years against Safin, but against Roddick it’s almost 11 - and a retired pro versus the world’s number 7. Humor was the only way to go. In the middle of a game, Sampras walked over to Roddick’s chair, took out a Roddick Babolat, unwrapped it, and tossed his Wilson over his shoulder, into the crowd. The woman who caught it refused to return the Wilson to its rightful owner, and I imagine Pete was hoping that no Wilson rep was in the audience as he proceeded to play the rest of the match with Andy's stick.
Now here's the interesting thing: Sampras's serve picked up serious speed with his switch to the Babolat. So did his forehand. The double-arm-lift backhand seemed about the same, velocity-wise. Is there a racket change in Pete’s future? Not likely. Lack of power and ball speed aren't the hampering factors on the Sampras exo tour.
But Pistol Pete made me look good in Hannah's eyes, because Sampras's serve is still the most potent I’ve ever seen, and partly because he delivers it so easily and deceptively. There’s simply nothing to suggest that the ball’s going to come at you with the speed with which it actually arrives. No strain. No idiosyncratic knee bend or extraneous motion. No histrionics.
Pete's serve was better when I saw him play Federer at Madison Square Garden – when his almost equally famous control over location was more evident (the guy can hit a dime and leave 9 cents change). But even 8 years after he retired, Sampras hits a serve that remains a model for anyone looking to understand the stroke.
After the Safin-Sampras, match Gimelstob remarked how Pete’s is giving out lots of love and looks so so relaxed. Sampras said that since he almost got into a fist fight in his last match, that isn't such a bad thing. Gimelstob, recalling that ugly incident in the desert, replied, “Yeah, who would have thought that I’d be the voice of reason on a tennis court?”
Safin met Roddick in the final match. Like the shift from Wilander-Lendl to Safin-Sampras, the warm-up promised that once again the shotmaking would ramp up. That happened, certainly, as Safin and Roddick played more assertive points. But we never forgot that this was an exo; the premium seemed to be on extending the points and keeping the ball in play rather than advancing the score ticker. But the men went at it hard enough to demonstrate the difference between an active pro and a recently retired one. Everything Safin did, Roddick did a little more of, or better. It was true of the way the respective men covered the court, the angles they hit, and the frequency with which they found them, and even the patience they showed.
Okay, so maybe the patience thing wasn’t ever Safin’s strong point, but you get the idea.
It's been forgotten for awhile, but the idea of drawing out an error has returned to tennis and nowhere is it more in evidence than in Roddick’s use of that much improved backhand slice. Like the Demon Bowler in the Kinks’ “Cricket”, he baffles with googlies, leg breaks and off-spin. It’s a beautiful thing to see the ball as it carves across the court, slides towards one or another line, and mesmerizes the receiver as if he were a cobra following the snake charmer’s flute.
Which is not to say Roddick’s production of his sliced backhand is classic. This may sound perverse, but it reminds me of Kathy Jordan’s backhand; not exactly the right grip, high take- back with the racket cocked at an unusual angle, severe chop and carve for the finish. But it’s super effective, and proves there’s still more than one way to hit the ball, And that's definitely one of the beauties of the game.
Roddick routined Safin. It was more fun than dramatic. I doubt that Roddick went all out with his serve; why should he risk hurting his shoulder in an exo, especially when you take into account the momentum he's gathered so far this year. And I was left wondering if Roddick's serve wouldn't play a larger than expected and more productive role in his upcoming matches on clay (in conjunction with his improved backhand) - something already suggested by Pete Bodo, who thinks Roddick can do well on the red dirt. Well, Roddick's kick serve will only encourage the big strokers to stand way back, and that will make the flat ball more effective and mitigate the slowness of the courts. We'll find out. As they say, that’s why they play the game.
Hannah and I stayed to the bitter end, which wasn't true of many of our fellow fans. I’ve been to exos before and am untroubled by the evening’s fun versus competition equation, or the lack of dramatic tension. For many in the audience this was the only time they would get to see professionals play tennis, and that’s valuable in terms of exposing and promoting the game. My friend Gene observed that a little less exo and more competition would have made the evening a little more enjoyable. I’d say that’s accurate.
They announced an attendance figure of 7300. Like all such extravaganzas, you never know how many seats are filled with comped tickets, but that's still a good-sized crowd. Gimelstob and Venus let us know the Caesars Tennis Classic will be held again next year, date and players to be named later. I don’t know if Hannah and I will be there. But this year, Saturday night was alright for tennis.
And it was even better as a dad and daughter time.