Harder Than You Think
Ever wonder about being a chair umpire? Do you lust for all that power? To be the one person truly in control of a match? To visit all those places without having to spend days and months and years practicing and suffering injuries?
It’s not as easy as you think.
Oh, it’s true that you travel, and you don’t have to practice every day — but it’s not all about running the U. S. Open final, either. Since there is nothing going on this week except Challengers, we thought we’d talk a bit about officiating there. We had the chance to chat once with a Challenger umpire, and it changed our perspective a bit.
For one thing, you don’t start at the top. You have to work your way up. And the early part of the job isn’t easy. Running a match at a major tournament is simple: Plenty of support staff (experienced line judges, experienced ball kids, actual assistants). Not so at a Challenger, especially a small one. Matches on an outside court — maybe even on center court — you may be the only official, calling all the lines including the ones you wouldn’t dare overrule at the top level. If there are any line judges at all, there are probably no more than five, and possibly fewer, so you still may have to call some lines, and even if you don’t, you have to be particularly alert.
Don’t even think about what it’s like to be the only official at a clay Challenger, where you have to come down and check marks on your own calls.
Plus the other line judges and ball kids are relatively inexperienced, and may have to be helped along. The ball kids are often swept in right after school, and have no real experience or training, and can get in everyone’s way. (And even so, they’re better than nothing. Our observation is that the low-ranked women are more likely to take two balls to serve than the top women, presumably because they spend so much time chasing their own balls. Which, incidentally, means that those Challenger matches take longer, because chasing the balls takes more of the players’ time.)
Plus your record-keeping is especially important. There may not be a scoreboard, and if it is, the operator may not be especially experienced. We remember at least one instance where the players couldn’t figure out which side of the court to stand on.
And you have to deal with more than your share of players you’ve never heard of. And remember, you’re going to have to pronounce “Dziamidzenka” or “Geznenge” or “Hlavackova” or “Zdenovcova” many, many times before this is over. With the players standing right there listening. And, possibly, ready to argue. And if you think the players on the main tour are head cases — well, they at least have to be sane enough to win matches….
Also, if you’re to get to the top, you need to know all the “Tour Languages” — at least well enough to call a match. It’s only a few dozen words in each language, but there is no looking in the back of the book….
It’s not great socially, either. The most successful players travel with a whole entourage — parents, spouses, trainers, dogs, dog catchers, campaigners for puppy parks, security guards, whatever strikes their fancy. And these are people they choose. Even lesser players will usually have a coach or someone. Plus the other players; almost every player has at least a few friends, people he or she sees at a lot of events. Not so for umpires. They have — themselves. Officials, at least on the USTA, are grouped into squads which travel together. We know of no instances of squabbling squads — but it’s still the same old couple of people, week in and week out. And not necessarily glamorous places. Minnesota in February. The southern U. S. in the height of summer. Two matches per day. Every day for a week — the players get to quit when they lose, and won’t play more than three matches (two singles, one doubles) in the first four days — but you’re likely to still be out there at least through Friday. And don’t forget qualifying!
And reaching chair umpire status at Challengers doesn’t mean you’re done calling lines. That umpiring crew we saw at our local Challenger a decade ago — well, they were at the U. S. Open, too, but calling lines. One of them was on hand for the final, which is nice — but he wasn’t in the chair. He was calling a sideline.
And then it’s off to the next tournament. You get time off, of course, but it’s still a tough schedule: Travel, work, travel again, work again, go home.
So next time you watch a match, especially at a low-Tier event, appreciate those people in the chair who are sitting there trying to make it something you want to watch.
KEYWORDS: Challenger Umpires
Topics: 10sballs, Chair Umpire, Sports, Tennis, Tennis News, US Open, Usta