The Australian Open is over and we’re in that waiting period between Melbourne and Paris. Joints are bending and twisting all over the hardcourt and we’ve seen some serious headlines in the tennis world. Roger’s knee. Maria’s drugs. Novak’s titles. Serena’s losses. Winter’s frost has done its worst and now we enter the spring to see which champions will bloom.
Too, spring’s smells are here – the rubbery-petroleum scent of a just-popped tennis can, the mildewed shoe soles, the post-sip Pedialyte stuck to one’s upper lip, the scented drier sheet that fluffed your towel, and the allergy-causing pollen that drifts around the nation’s courts with the sort of breath-challenging animosity that today’s politicians wield with a will. The Northern Hemisphere’s athletes are hanging up their warm-ups and v-neck sweaters and donning dri-fit t-shirts and knee-length shorts that make McEnroe’s circa 80’s leg-wear seem almost pornographic.
In gyms and locker rooms, stretching is becoming easier, as warm weather leads to looser muscles and the tightness of winter loosens its hold on the neuromuscular system. Soon, we’ll see league ladies competing for “best outfit” on court and grown men will hoist off t-shirts and hope that winter’s hibernation took off the lbs. in ways that don’t make spectators scream.
In high schools across the world, tennis teams are outside practicing, ripping used tennis balls across holey nets and hoping their old shoes don’t slide too far across the skating-rink-like courts. The few lucky schools, which have done resurfacing, now see local residents trying to sneak onto their campus as young teens curse and mock the old-dodgers trying to take their turf.
Head Pros remove their feet from their desks and fill out league sheets and scorecards and sit in on meetings with team captains who ask questions like, “If Marge and Mary play together, who should play the backhand side?” and “Can we substitute in Joanna who’s really a 5.0 but, since we need her to win, we’ll list her as a 3.5 and she can just dog it a bit?” As they set out fruit and bagels for the captain’s meetings, their administrative staff presents them with summer camp fliers and there will be arguments as to whose kid’s picture makes the trifold cover. One can imagine the Sports illustrated Swimsuit Issue editors having less arguments.
In America, the Intercollegiate Tennis Association is moving from the east coast to a landlocked state in the west. Over in Europe, the ITF is wondering how best to promote the game’s international scope. At WTA headquarters, there are discussions about Maria’s suspension, and Rafael Nadal continues to try to figure out why people keep suggesting he’s doing ‘roids.
So, this is spring. After Miami, the clay is upon us. Our shoes will get dirty with the dust of a new season. A grand competitor will attempt to regain his throne. Foreigners will eat morning croissants and try to avoid spaces where terrorists might entertain bad thoughts. Just because it sounds cool, the world will begin screaming “Allez” for items found in grocery stores. And tennis will remain the sport for a lifetime.
Topics: Craig Cignarelli, Tennis News