ANOTHER VANTAGE POINT FROM EUGENE L. SCOTT, “THE CLAY ISN’T RED @ THE FRENCH OPEN”

Written by: on 3rd June 2014
French Open tennis tournament at Roland Garros
ANOTHER VANTAGE POINT FROM EUGENE L. SCOTT, "THE CLAY ISN'T RED @ THE FRENCH OPEN"

epa04235242 A tennis ball on court Suzanne Lenglen during the French Open tennis tournament at Roland Garros in Paris, France, 01 June 2014. EPA/ETIENNE LAURENT  |

The following was published in the June 22, 2004, edition of Tennis Week Magazine as a “Vantage Point” column and written by former Tennis Week founder and publisher Eugene L. Scott:

Perhaps it’s just as well this country took a sabbatical at the French Open this year. With American men not surviving the second round, Venus and Serena losing in the quarters and Jennifer Capriati embarrassed in her semifinal, the stars and stripes hung at half-staff in a city where ambivalence to our flag would be considered progress.

Americans’ misery in Paris is no accident. Our players simply do not take the French Open as seriously as those from virtually any other country, with the exception being Australians, whose preference for fast surfaces matches our own. Both early training and current priorities put clay court aptitude at truancy level here. Only exceptional athletes (Agassi, King, Capriati and Serena Williams) or exceptional fighters (Chang and Courier) have prevented the United States from being shut out of singles victories at the French Championships in the 36 years of the Open Era. The sole exclusion from this dreary dateline is, of course, Chris Evert, whose champion’s mien and clay upbringing in Florida ordained supremacy anywhere. Monica Seles and Martina Navratilova are also removed from the equation because, although American citizens, they acquired their clay court expertise outside of America.

It doesn’t take fourth grade research to track the source of our single surface woes. Before Open tennis, the junior championships and the majority of intercollegiate matches were contested on clay. For instance, Ivy League tennis was once exclusively on clay, as were college rivalries from Boston to Florida, the Midwest and even Texas. California’s concrete culture stood apart. And remember, even the U.S. Open and its lead up tournaments were played on Har-Tru from 1975-77, perhaps the apogee of American prowess on soft surfaces, with Evert winning all three years and Jimmy Connors winning one year and being a finalist the other two. As soon as the Open moved to hard courts at Flushing Meadows, the bell essentially tolled for clay court tennis in America. Few noticed. And fewer did anything noteworthy to correct this sorry scene. Even U.S. Tennis Association leaders admit that clay court mastery for juniors has not been a high priority or, as some confess bluntly, not a priority whatsoever. Example? Barely 15 percent of the 96 USTA futures, satellite and challenger tournaments are played on clay. The answer is not developing more muscles to strike serves, forehands or backhands. Building mental muscle, however, and a special stamina profile for clay is imperative. In other words, the grit and gait required for Paris is quite different than for any other surface.

The cruel calculus of clay was illuminated in Paris by the Gaudio/Hewitt quarterfinal, where the Australian was not quite equal to the Argentine’s pluck and consistency. Gaudio also showed an uncommon touch at net, which is role reversal at its most telling, and, after nearly two hours, this blend of skills left Hewitt without even a deuce set to show for his efforts.

By the way, John, Pat and Mary, the color of the courts at Roland Garros is not red. Although it has become idiomatic for even experts to refer to this surface as red clay, it’s not. It’s medium tan, rust colored or russet, but certainly not the color of the stripes in an American flag. But for TV announcers, saying “the medium tan clay court” does not parse as succinctly as “red clay.” What also doesn’t parse in Americans’ favor is the disproportionate number of French, Spanish, Argentine and Russians in the draw compared to their modest player pool.

For instance, there were just 10 American men in the singles, including a lucky loser and a qualifier, meaning only eight direct acceptances out of a U.S. tennis population of nearly 25 million. France had 21, Spain 19 and Argentina eight, from a combined tennis population of less than half America’s. The women’s field was healthier for the United States in terms of raw quantity with 18 entered, but Russia with 12 certainly fared better in quality – 12 in the draw produced both singles finalists.

Common wisdom asserts that one has to grow up on clay to succeed on it, and dominance by Spain, Argentina and France bolsters this view. The theory is even more valid for men’s than women’s tennis. After all, while the Russian women and junior girls do have access to clay courts, they are frozen, snow covered or muddy sludge nearly eight months a year. The common denominator of these Russians is not athleticism nor outstanding shotmaking. It is, instead, conditioning and stick-to-itiveness that doesn’t collapse under pressure, despite strokes that are rarely textbook slick. For instance, the techniques of finalists Myskina and Dementieva would not “win a beauty contest (though Dementieva herself would), but both do win matches despite no second serves.

The good news about clay court successes outside of America is that none is the product of athletic genius. This sort of talent does not have to be born. It can be grown. Homegrown, if we dig deeply enough.

Reporting randomly from one quarterfinal, Carlos Moya served to Coria at deuce, 3-4 in the first set, then hit a huge forehand that struck the sideline, scooting for a winner. Coria slammed his racquet to the ground in rage. “He’s a pro, isn’t he?” I remember thinking. “Line balls are more common than bad calls, but both are surely part of the game. And it’s barely the first set.” I scribble “jerk” in the margin of my notes.

The Nalbandian/Kuerten semifinal made me wonder whether the statistic “unforced error” must be amended. There are still unforced errors, more on the women’s side, where power is not omnipresent, thus less cause for the inexcusable mistake. Capriati’s 2-6, 2-6 self-inflicted semifinal abuse presented ledgers of every variety of unforced error. Ditto Dcmentieva, who flubbed 10 double faults in the final against Myskina. Can anything be more unforced than a double fault?

On the men’s side, however, a new stat box is in order. “Fear of not hitting the ball at Mach 1”? The punishment for not striking at full pace is being counter-punched out. Playing it safe is no longer an option in men’s tennis, so powerful are today’s players and their racquets. Recall, the unforced error evolved in the days of wood racquets, when there were no rewards for over-hitting. In Nalbandian/Kuerten, any short ball or defensive retrieve was pulverized. Sometimes these wallops went long or wide. The result was not an unforced error, rather the opposite: The consequence of not using enough force.

The Paris weather, on occasion, was unseasonably unfriendly, making the large, stylish umbrella, while not a good deal at 60 Euros, a suitable souvenir. The see-through ponchos, on the other hand, were a bargain at l1 Euros, but not a suitable souvenir. The price of gas was neither, at nearly $6 a gallon.

Finally, this column’s coda. If “dirt” is a synonym for clay courts and “dirt nap” is a too-cute phrase for dying, it’s not much of a stretch to conclude that American tennis took a dirt nap in Paris.

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