L.A. Open Tennis Fans – Craig Cignarelli

Written by: Staff on 25th July 2012

L.A. Open Tennis Fans - Craig Cignarelli

epa03153880 James Blake of the US hits a return to Nikolay Davydenko of Russia during their first round match at the Sony Ericsson Open on Key Biscayne, Florida, USA, 21 March 2012. EPA/ANDREW GOMBERT |

By: Craig Cignarelli

L.A.’s tennis scene is more social than supportive, meaning “fans” come out to be seen rather than see. In the full spirit of this spectating specialty, I’m going to take some literary snapshots of L.A.’s crowd.

In row one, we have Mildred Birnbaum, a woman who’s reached the age when her cheekbones seem to be sliding down her face into a pelican like craw. Her moles and sunspots have accumulated into a clump such that it looks like three old pennies. Millie has uncomfortably hairy forearms and when she chews her pretzel, all three chins move in kinetic harmony. For all of her external notoriety, M.B. is blessed with an unassailable wit. When cheering for Eastern European tennis players, her words press into your heart like children’s handprints in virgin cement. The comments practically swish. At this moment, ol’ Mil is raising her right hand above her head, palm half-clasped rapper style, screaming, “Hey Johnson, I’ve seen better aim in the men’s room.” Nearby, several spectators raise curious eyebrows.

Two rows behind the Birnbaum hooligan, television executive Ed Kogan frenetically fingers his Blackberry so you just know Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is only a few oar paddles away. Ed gets his annual seats from the studio and considers himself a tennis weekend warrior. Truth be told, his serve reaches a buck-oh-five but has the precision of something Mildred was complaining about. Ed plans to be here all week but based on the last twenty minutes, he’ll spend more time reviewing NBC’s fall schedule than watching any tennis.

Katy McBride is an eleven year-old tennis prodigy now attending the matches garbed in a Nike dress and size 4 women’s tennis shoes. Her racket rests upon her lap and she white-knuckles a large red ink pen for autographs. Her hat currently contains enough professional initials to perplex your average teenage texter. In about thirty minutes, Big Mc will step onto the stadium court and do battle against one of today’s match winners. Although pre-pubescent, she already has a pre-skewered-meat shishkabob-chef intensity about her. Plus, she’s not even sweating, which, frankly, scares the hell out of me.

To my right, Eldridge Johnson sports a Lawrence of Arabia hat and enough facial sunscreen to make Marcel Marceau wince. E.J. has been coaching tennis since the fifties and claims to have an indirect win over Jack Kramer. Your correspondent has a direct win over Pete Sampras but since we were age twelve playing half-court tiebreakers on the un-swept clay of Court 13 with the winner getting a chocolate chip cookie and a cardboard container of fries, I’m not counting that either. For the past twenty minutes, Johnson has been spouting his knowledge about tennis strategy and ended enough sentences with “and then” such that the septagenarian next to us has violently ripped out his hearing aid, pissed. Eldridge does seem to know a thing or two about the game, although his theory that Rafa would be a better player if he used an Eastern forehand makes one question whether his hat is working.

There are plenty more characters out here, but I need to get back to the tennis. Blake just lost a tough one and local tennis-hero Steve Johnson is warming up.

More tomorrow!

Topics: Eldridge Johnson, Farmers Classic, James Blake, Katy McBride, LA Open 2012, Mildred Birnbaum, Sports, Steve Johnson, Tennis News