THE GIANT SUCK – By Craig Cignarelli

Written by: on 4th September 2013
THE GIANT SUCK - By Craig Cignarelli   |

The room is cold, sixty-six on the AC because sleep comes better at cryogenic temps.  It is five-fifty a.m. and the grating bwoop-bwoop of a receding trash truck crashes through my thin windowpanes to finger-prod me from my slumber.  Dawn’s light slides beneath my hotel curtains and, before bleary eyes, my ground’s pass resolves into focus.  In a few hours, the second week of the US OPEN will begin.

I flick on the laptop and punch in the day’s draw, searching the Men’s brackets for signs of the stars and stripes.  The absence has a heavy presence.  It is like a vacuum at the top of the world rankings, the black void of millions of player development dollars disappearing into a cesspool of discouragement.  This is the first time in history an American man has not reached the second week of any of the year’s major tournaments.

What has happened to our boys?  In tennis circles, this question arises frequently.

Some suggest there is a lack of heart in today’s American athletes, that the U.S. lifestyle is too comfortable to inspire the fight needed to compete on the world stage.  They blame the country club mentality for our lack of success.  Then again, neither Sampras nor Courier nor Chang nor Roddick used food stamps in their youth.

Others contend the world has passed us by, sending their best athletes to the sport’s stage to compete against our presumably “lesser athletes.” Tennis’ international popularity has inspired phrases like “There’s only two ways out of Russia, crime and tennis,” and “Serbia is famous for war and tennis.”  Surely, the sport is more global now, the addition of Olympic medals and greater prize money luring in international competitors.  However, every four years the US hoists more gold medals than almost every other nation, so clearly there is no lack of aptitude here.  There must be some other reason for our nonattendance in the top 10.

A few might posit the American style is at fault. We hit big serves and big forehands in pursuit of instant gratification.  We get our rocks off when we hit the ball past the opponent – hitting winners is in the DNA of a superpower’s offspring.  This mentality is contrary to the more laissez faire psyche of the clay courters, who prove their machismo by breaking down opponents physically and mentally.  Consistency and tenacity remain part of their genetic make-up and today’s topspin game seems more suited to those character traits.  Historically, America struggles in wars of attrition – See Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan – so perhaps we need to re-address our strategy.  This may all be true, but certainly we’ve won our share of wars. After all, grab a cup of tea and ask the British about American desire and fortitude.

In the coaching community, many blame the administration – the USTA’s player development budget is about $17 million – accusing them of cherry-picking top juniors from their private coaches and then dumping the players for lack of performance.  This has created an adverse relationship between the private coaching community and the nation’s governing body, one, which may be proving detrimental to aspiring professionals.  But then, no American champion has ever come from the USTA development program and there are plenty of private coaches willing to stay outside the system to produce the top players.

Whatever the reason, the lack still exists, slam after slam, season after season, American men suffer the giant suck of nonappearance.

It is now seven a.m. and my icy room has given way to summer’s rising heat. Penn Station’s 7 train rumbles into the tunnel to carry me, and thousands of other tennis fans, out to Flushing Meadows.  I’m halfway through a continental breakfast, wondering if my disloyalty to American cuisine is now a precursor to what will be my day’s cheers.

The tournaments match schedule sits on my lap.  All I see are other nations’ myriad flags.  A sadness enters me, a yearning to satiate my national pride.   Thankfully, the Bryan Brothers are chasing history this week.  There is hope the US women will continue to contend for titles.  And perhaps, somewhere on a cracked court, outside the purview of the powers-that-be, where a private coach has chosen to press his thumbs against a leather grip instead of a remote control, there is a young boy receiving thousands of feeds in preparation to represent his nation.  One can hope, right?

 

Craig’s blog can be found at http://bewareofdogmadotnet.wordpress.com/

 

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