When I worked in public relations, the last call I made every Thanksgiving Eve was to the client who gave me my first, big break. Our family takes the Thanksgiving senitment literally. We scribble little notes to people in our lives or call them to say “thanks” for something significant, or just uncommonly nice, that they've done for us.
So I decided to write this post, just to say “thanks,” first of all to Pete, for putting this whole website together, and secondly - but no less importantly - to everyone in the Tribe, especially those who contribute and help keep the momentum going.
If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’ll tell you what this place means to me: When I first got really, deeply passionate about tennis a decade years ago, I had a friend - we’ll call him Frank - whose passion matched my own.We might have gone for a week without speaking and then, after a pivotal point during a televised match (like the time Pete Sampras saved four set points against Richard Krajicek in a 2000 US Open tiebreak), the phone would ring. I didn’t have caller ID at the time, and I didn’t need it. I just picked up the phone and said: “We’re watching greatness, my friend.”
Frank just chuckled.
Frank and I would debate tennis live, and via email. At the end of each year, we’d try to guess who would win the next four Grand Slam events(I always tapped Henman for Wimbledon – and he always thought it was a smart pick.). We breathlessly pored over draw sheets of the major tournaments just as soon as they became available.
Frank took me to my first US Open, and taught me to strategize about which courts to hit, and how to track matches on the grounds. He also instructed me in the fine points of smuggling food and wine into the National Tennis Center, back when there was no security risk in doing so.
Long story short, Frank and I had a falling out a couple of years later, and I was suddenly without a tennis pal. It was very common for Caitlin to come through the living room during the late-summer, that wonderful time when there’s a North American tournament almost every week, and a match on television almost every weeknight.
“How’s the game?” she’d ask.
“OK,” I’d say, invariably adding, “but I miss Frank.”
I felt a little silly about it, but she humored my bereavement, which I continued to feel every time I watched tennis, even though I eventually stopped talking about it. Flash forward a few years. I don’t know exactly when I first discovered TennisWorld; I think it was during the 2005 US Open. I lurked here for months, fascinated, but intimidated by the camaraderie among the regulars, and by the knowledge of technique and tactics exhibited by some of them. (Dunlop Maxply, I might have de-lurked months earlier were it not for you!).
Eventually, I began to post, and was welcomed as all newcomers are – with open arms. (Any lurkers reading this: get in the holiday spirit and jump right in with a comment below.). Before long, TennisWorld became a part of my tennis-watching habit: if there was a good match on, I’d fire up my laptop and cheer and comment right along with the Tribe. I was laid up with a stomach bug for several days during the Key Biscayne tournament this spring, and spent most of my waking hours in the company of the gang here as well. I sometimes got into heated debates with fellow posters, many of whom challenged my own feelings and opinions, and once in a while they managed to alter them.
One day, I realized that TennisWorld had taken the place of my old pal, Frank. This will sound overly dramatic, but it’s a plain fact: this place filled a small but real void in my life.
The amazing thing is that TennisWorld is more than a site to me now: I’ve met a number of people here, at various NYC get-togethers, or at the Open. Tari, JB, Heidi, Sam, Ruth, Viv, Snoo, and others. I’ve become pals with Asad “Ray Stonada” Raza. We play tennis together and check out restaurants; Caitlin and I had the pleasure of dining at his apartment just two nights ago. One of my favorite moments during this year’s US Open was closing the Red Star Café (aka Heineken Bar) with Asad and Ed McGrogran, as we knocked back a few brewskis in honor of Ed’s birthday.
Speaking of Ed, thanks also to him for Monday Net Post, and to Heidi for her Deuce Club posts, and to Rosangel, Andrew, and other guest posters for their vital contributions.
Most of all, of course, thanks to our host, Pete Bodo, who engages us as equals, and gives his time, attention, and enthusiasm generously. More than a few times at the Open, I saw Pete leave the press center, or even a match, to go meet a Tribe member at a prearranged time. On his way to one such meeting, I heard him talking on his cellular phone with his wife, telling her that he was on his way to see some. . .friends. I don’t use the word friends lightly, and I don’t think Pete does, either – does anybody else find it remarkable that all of these relationships started here, in this little patch of cyberspace?
During this year’s US Open, Pete’s fellow blogger Steve Tignor quoted something I said during a Nadal match, identifying me as a guy who “posts over at TennisWorld.” Right after it went up on the Tennis.com site, he sent me an email that read, “I probably should have identified you as the coauthor of Breaking Back instead of somebody who posts on a blog.”
“That’s okay,” I wrote him back. “Breaking Back was just something nice that I did this year. TennisWorld is forever!”
So thanks to everyone here with whom I’ve discussed, argued, watched, and played tennis: thanks for the memories – here’s to many, many more in the years to come.
Now let’s go eat turkey!
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- Andrew Friedman (aka Rolo Tomassi)*
