Welcome to the Mortuary

Hi, Tribe. Steggy is working on the first post of her first official assignment for TennisWorld. The Hillbilly Princess, being stubborn as an unbroken mule (and I'm not talking footwear), won't admit that she's the least bit nervous and maybe she's not. But i decided to jump in here and run my mouth a little, just in case she's feeling any pressure (I'd be the last one she'd tell, anyway).

I just stopped by Steve Tignor's office and we got to talking about the Madrid Year-End Championships (right now, it looks like Amelie Mauresmo is going to revive and knock off Hingis). Steve has been watching more closely than I, and he tells me that despite the strikingly sparse crowd in the box seats, when the camera pulls back and pans the cheap seats, the attendance is respectable.

This segues into one of my all-time beefs, the degree to which tournaments simultaneously sell-out and shoot themselves in the foot (taking a huge chunk of leg in the process) by selling those prime, courtside boxes to folks who don't respect the game - or players - enough to show up and paste their warm fannies in the boxes. This is partly because the premium price-tag on those seats is often well-hidden in a company or individual's "tax strategy" , and there's no way to cheapen an event  as quickly and easily as giving it away for free - which is what so many of those boxholders do with their seats. Very few of the folks with the best seats at tennis make anything like the personal statement of a typical fan who has actually paid his or her own hard-earned cash for a seat, and must watch the action over a desert-like expanse of empty seats.  It's a sad commentary on the degree to which tennis is elitist, in the worst sense of the word.

More importantly, perhaps, most tournament directors and, ironically enough, even the WTA and ATP, are sending a few clear messages every time someone, somewhere turns on the TV and sees that poisonous, monochrome, geometric grid of empty seats. And those messages are all negative.

First message: Nobody can be bothered showing up for this, so how good can it be?

Second message: TD's have milked the market and, after stuffing their pockets, lose any interest in the quality of their event or the experience of those who are actually interested enough to attend, or watch on television.

Third message: Those cheap seats are good enough for the hoi polloi, but heaven forbid they end up in that hallowed zone perpetually reserved for all those desirable, expense-accounted, chic, politically-and-socially connected swells  who, unfortunately, couldn't give a rat's  backside about  the tournament.

This disgusts me.

I think one of the first items on the agenda of the Lords of Tennis in the upcoming off-season should be recognizing and coming to grips with this awful situation. I get as annoyed as anyone else by seat-poachers always looking for the free upgrade, but I'm even more bothered by the concept that once a specific seat is purchased, standard operating procedure dictates that it go unoccupied rather than be used by someone present- especially if that someone is a kid, or a fan who just can't pony up the dough for an expensive seat.

We know that the Oscars and other show-business enterprises practice seat-filling. When, oh, Kate Moss or somebody gets up to go and powder her nose, some lucky by-stander gets to go and sit in her seat until she returns. This can be done in many venues in tennis, although it would involve obvious logistical problem. Another way to solve this is to empower ushers to act, in effect, as traffic cops instead of guardians at the gate. Let them allow seats to be filled with the tacit understanding by all parties that if and when a ticket-holder does show up, the seat will be turned over and the fan occupying it will return to his or her own seat.

But I have an even better idea, I think. Put at least four rows of seats in front of courtside boxes, at a reasonable if not bargain-basement price, and hold some kind of lottery or contest allowing anyone to buy them. Nothing improves an event like fan enthusiasm (all those foam No. 1 fingers, all those face-painted Swedes!). Why perpetuate this destructive image of tennis as a game played in a venue that has all the warmth, charm and energy of the city morgue?

An even better solution might be to move the premium boxes back even further; it's not like the folks sitting in them have demonstrated a passionate interest in the game, right? Let them have the cute curtains and pecking-order partitions. Throw them a little caviar or champagne to let them know how terribly important they all are. And leave the game to the real fans.

As far as I'm concerned, the premium courtside box system has outlived its usefulness, and tournament directors should start thinking more about the quality of the experience for people who are actually at an event, rather than those who can't be bothered to show up.