Open to Suggestion

There wasn’t a lot to complain about at this year’s U.S. Open. There was little rain, and thus little whining about how Ashe Stadium has no roof overhead or tarps on its surface. There was no difficult one-day turnaround between the semifinals and finals, as there had been for more than 30 years. There were no scheduling snafus, no rash of injuries, no blatant tank jobs, no Jason Biggs exhibition, and none of the usual uproar over shrieking, equal pay, or slow courts. Even the much-hated Monday night men’s final was planned ahead of time this year. The big infrastructure project—new bleachers, and bathrooms, around the practice courts and side courts 4, 6, and 6—met with positive reviews. And that Ashe roof? It's first pillars were driven into the ground before the tournament began.

Still, no event runs so well that it can’t generate a little constructive criticism from the media. Here are four things the Open should change:

This is an ancient lament, but now there’s a chance to fix it. The Open has traditionally stretched the first round of singles over three days and six sessions (five in 2013)—as I wrote at the start of the tournament, Wimbledon gets the same number of matches done in two sessions.

Stretching it out is bad for fans because the value of every ticket during the first three days is diluted; anyone who came for the first Wednesday’s day session had a very weak line-up from which to choose. Stretching it out is bad for players because you’re asking some of them to try to win a tournament in 13 days, while others have 15 days to do it. The difference will be even more pronounced next year, when the men’s final is moved back to Sunday.

That move, from a 15-day to a 14-day tournament, is one good reason to get the first round finished more quickly. Another is the switch in broadcasters. A three-day first round appealed to CBS because it gave the game’s star players a better chance of surviving until the network took over on Labor Day weekend. Starting next year, ESPN will be the tournament’s sole broadcaster, from first ball to last. It will be able to show the stars any day it wants.

There was surprisingly little to complain about in this year’s post-final awards presentations, either. There was no “Christine” Henin gaffe, nor was anyone kept from saying his or her piece, à la Juan Martin del Potro in 2009.

Yet there was the still the moment that sets the Open apart from all of the majors: The presentation of the $3, or $4, or $5, or $10 million—whatever record number it happens to be this year—winner’s checks. That’s an impressive amount of money, obviously, but somehow it always leaves me less impressed with a player’s victory. It’s overkill. We know they play for money, but they also play for glory—like the rest of the majors, who hand their checks over in private later, let this moment be about the glory.

The Open scatters Jumbotrons around the grounds, where people can hang out, or sit at a bar, and watch the tennis in Ashe Stadium. But there's nothing quite like the concentrated energy of Henman Hill here—and you would think New York should have the edge on Wimbledon when it comes to crowd energy, wouldn't you? Maybe an area like Court 17, or the new side-court bleachers—or a Manhattan meeting ground like Bryant Park—could be designated as a second viewing area for the semifinals and finals. Sell it as a tennis party for those who can't afford to be in Ashe. The view on a big screen would be better than from a nosebleeds in the big stadium anyway, and the atmosphere might be as well.

I did not look at every flag at the National Tennis Center this year, but I saw enough to know that the Stars and Stripes dominates the way it always has. The U.S. flag is the one you see waving on the side of the boardwalk as you get off the subway. It’s the one you see at the front gate, as you walk in from the direction of the Unisphere. And it’s the one you see towering over the top of Ashe Stadium.

This is the U.S. Open, of course, but it’s also part of the Grand Slam family, one that spreads from London to Paris to Melbourne; all of these events are part of the International Tennis Federation. Thousands of tourists come to this most global of sporting events. By contrast, Indian Wells, which is much more American-centric in its fan base, goes out of its way to fly the flags of virtually every country in the tennis universe.