It has become an opening-week ritual at the Grand Slams. At some point, typically on Thursday or Friday, we’re informed that this was the “first time in 50 years that an American male hasn’t reached the third round of a major.” Or that “no U.S. women are in the quarters for the first time in a century.” Or that “no Americans at all will play in the second week for the time since the game was invented.” These footnotes of doom have become so commonplace, and thus so meaningless, that a backlash against them seemed ready to begin at the All England Club this year.
“It’s Wednesday, and John Isner is last American male in Wimbledon singles,” tweeted John Branch of the New York Times on the tournament’s third day. “Let’s not discuss again.”
But discuss again we almost certainly will over the next few days at the U.S. Open. While Serena Williams, the two-time defending champion and world’s No. 1 woman player, is a good bet to go deep in the draw, the U.S. men will bring no members of the Top 10 to New York—it’s the first time that’s happened since, well, since last year. I can understand why reporters feel the need to mention these milestones of futility. For the millions of newspaper readers who don’t follow the game closely, it’s a quick reminder that the game is allegedly “declining” in the States.
Yet for many of us who do follow tennis closely, these dispatches strike a false note—or at the very least, they’re beside the point. Yes, each country must do whatever it can to develop its own players. And yes, fans in the States like to see American players win rather than lose early. But the spirit of tennis is, and always has been, global rather than nationalistic. At this year’s U.S. Open, Roger Federer will have as many supporters as any American player does.
Those of us who have followed tennis for years don’t follow it because we need to see our countrymen win. We watch, and continue to watch, because we love the sport itself, and love to see the best players play it, whether they’re from Russia, Argentina, Japan, Switzerland—hey, even Canada. Tennis, not being a team game, frees its fans from having to choose our favorites based on where we live (only in Davis Cup and Fed Cup do players wear anything that identifies them with a location). We’re free to support whomever we happen to relate to and enjoy watching. In that sense, tennis fandom is both global and very personal. It’s also inter-connective; rooting for a player from another country inevitably teaches you a little bit about the world beyond your borders.
