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Agassi falls and rises in the valley of ashes
At one time dubbed the "valley of ashes" by F. Scott Fitzgerald in his novel The Great Gatsby,
Flushing Meadows Corona Park, the site of the US Open, was once a vast desolate dumping ground,
a forlorn expanse of land, inspected, according to Fitzgerald, by the disproportionately large
bespectacled eyes of Doctor TJ Eckelburg on a decaying billboard.
Eckelburg's scrutiny took in a "grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over
it". Nowadays, the erstwhile grey land boasts a two-week sporting extravaganza in which the only
dust to be found is the stardust shimmering in the dreams of the world's best tennis players as
their aspirations are played out in front of a hooting and hollering New York crowd.
Following defeat at the hands of Benjamin Becker at this year's US Open, a bald, pigeon-toed
American bowed and blew kisses to an adoring crowd for the very last time at the end of a glittering
career. Andre Agassi's famous post-match ritual was, according to the biggest box-office star in
tennis history, "an expression of appreciation. It started when I realised how much people support
me ... I'm overwhelmed with the support and the way that I've been embraced over the last half of my
career." His final act of reciprocation with the New York fans was stirring and emotional but it could
not adequately reflect the enormous impact he has had on the game.
One of the more understated tributes to the Las Vegan was Andy Murray's recent assertion
that "he [Agassi] made tennis a cool sport," but the punk showman who featured in the "Image is
Everything!" advertising campaign in his early playing days succeeded in becoming a great
deal more than just the most recognisable face in tennis. In some ways, the outpouring of affection
and emotion provoked by his final defeat marks the crowning point of his renaissance as an
international sporting ambassador.
Persistent back and hip injuries always suggested that Agassi's 21st and final US Open campaign
would falter before he could seriously contemplate a ninth Grand Slam title. However,
he is one of only five men to win all four majors and the only one to have achieved the feat on four
different surfaces. He also overcame a dramatic career slump. In 1997, he peevishly shunned the
naming ceremony at Arthur Ashe Stadium because he had been overlooked in a roll call of past
champions at a USTA function. During the following months he plummeted to a world ranking of
141 and was spotted changing manual scoreboards at Challenger events. A year later he completed
an incredible comeback, winning the French and US Opens and establishing himself at the very top
of the rankings. Impressive as these achievements are, the character of the man is reflected even
more creditably in his continuing charitable work. The Andre Agassi Charitable Foundation, which
he created in 1994, has raised more than $60 million to provide recreational and educational
opportunities for underprivileged and at-risk children in Southern Nevada. "I have been very
blessed and had many opportunities available to me," he says. "Children today face so many obstacles.
If I can make a positive impact on at least one child's life, then it has all been worthwhile."
If Agassi felt someone's bespectacled eyes upon him when he took that final bow at Flushing
Meadows, they weren't the fictional eyes of TJ Eckelburg. Agassi was standing in the middle of
a stadium bearing the name of another great philanthropist and humanitarian, a man whose
legacy he had once refused to acknowledge. On this occasion, the spirit of Arthur Ashe was no
doubt gazing down with great approval at the man who has become in many ways his spiritual descendant.
Dave Winship (3 September 2006)
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Murray in a pickle
If the British Lawn Tennis Association harboured any lingering doubts about the lucrative
three-year contract it offered Brad Gilbert to work with Andy Murray - the richest coaching
contract in the history of British tennis, they were surely dispelled when the Scottish
teenager became only the second player this year to beat Roger Federer. The
all-too-frequent displays of petulance gave way to patience and maturity in a stunning
demolition of the world number one in the second round of the Cincinnati Masters. A story
doing the rounds suggests that the victory was at least in part attributable to some pickle
juice procured from a Jewish deli in Toronto. Concerned about blisters on his young charge's
hands, Gilbert turned to the apparently bizarre remedy of pickling the sore digits. It
proved to be as effective at hardening the Scot's self-belief as it was for toughening up
his skin.
You would not necessarily expect a man like Gilbert to provide Murray with the most sophisticated,
cutting-edge expertise available in the modern game, but you would expect him to steer clear
of outright quackery. But then sportsmen and sportswomen have resorted to folk remedies since
time immemorial and the most bizarre techniques are still prevalent today.
Chinese women distance runners stunned the world in the 1993 Stuttgart World Championships
under the guidance of legendary athletics coach Ma Junren. Her secret? Well, she imposed a diet
comprising such culinary delights as caterpillar fungus, worms and a soup made of turtle blood!
Cyclists, baseball players and boxers are among those who have adopted Gilbert's pickling method
for toughening the skin. It was apparently a normal part of the training of the old bare fist
prize fighters to rub a cocktail of sheep urine and alum crystals into the skin to reduce the
risk of getting cuts. Mercifully, Gilbert stopped short of insisting on the sheep urine for Murray,
but his remedy was still miles away from anything resembling modern medical science.
It's as if Jenner and vaccination,
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"it was either that or weeing on it"
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Pasteur and germ theory and all the other breathtaking
advances in medical science over the last couple of centuries just never happened. You can
apparently lead a man to knowledge but you can't make him think. Yes, I know vinegar acts
as an astringent and tightens the pores of the skin, but that's not the point. The point
is: Gilbert chose to ignore the services of the ATP trainers and the plethora of
over-the-counter medicinal products and opted instead for a trusty old folk remedy that should
have been consigned to oblivion years ago. Mind you, even Gilbert and Murray do not always
find alternative medicine an attractive alternative. "I've never heard of anyone putting
pickle juice on their hands before," Murray told reporters. "It was either that or weeing
on it. I think baseball players do that, or that was what I was told, but I wasn't too keen
on that." I'm sure that came as a great relief to the other occupants of the players' dressing
room.
So if Gilbert comes over as a garrulous, uneducated, folksy character peddling nothing
more than horse sense, how has he been so successful? In just three weeks he has
steered Murray to the final in Washington, a semi-final appearance in the Toronto Masters
and a place in the world's top twenty. "Having him in your corner is special," says Murray.
"There aren't too many people around like him. He's definitely one of the best coaches
in the world." Perhaps folksy wisdom isn't something to be sneezed at after all. Perversely,
Gilbert's artless, down-to-earth, pragmatic approach is his great strength. In a world
increasingly dominated by high-tech solutions and sophisticated methodologies, it is
refreshing to learn that there is a still a place for the inspirational maverick. Pass the
vinegar, please.
Dave Winship (18 August 2006)
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Where sport has no place
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Iraq
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Sport has often been used to foster dialogue between warring peoples, but that's
certainly not the case in Iraq, where sportsmen and sportswomen have become specific
terrorist targets. Sports facilities have been destroyed and, according to the
Iraqi Sports Union in Baghdad, nearly 70 athletes have been killed since the launch
of the US-led invasion in April 2003. In recent weeks, death threats forced the
manager of Iraq's national football team to flee into exile and ten young
footballers perished when two bombs, buried in the middle of a football pitch,
exploded. Wearing shorts proved to be the downfall of the national tennis coach
and two of his players who were ruthlessly gunned down in a notorious district
of Baghdad.
We are constantly bombarded with images and words misrepresenting Islam as
primitive, bigoted and violent. It's a perception that many Muslims are keen to
challenge. Many welcome meaningful dialogue about their faith and its role in
modern society. Most strongly disapprove of terrorism in the name of Islam and
do not consider tolerance spiritually compromising. Indeed, the Qur'an advocates
the principle of Ikhtilaf, which clearly allows for differences of opinion in
religious matters.
But however tempting it is to analyse the dynamics of politics in Iraq in terms
of religious beliefs, the reality is that the headline makers are motivated, not
by theological disagreements, but by disaffection morphing into irrational hatred
and the thirst for power. Iraq is perceived to be a power vacuum and power vacuums
tend to suck in terrorists. These people are apostates who have no business whatsoever
uttering references to Islam. It's in some ways similar to the Northern Ireland
conflict in which religious differences did not so much fan the flames of sectarian
hatred as serve for demarcation purposes. It was hostility between two distinct
self-aggrandising communities using religion as a facade.
Manham Kubba, secretary-general of the Iraqi Tennis Union, has
voiced his concerns for the future of Iraqi sport. "Killing three innocent civilians
for wearing shorts is unacceptable, whatever their profession," he said,
"especially killing sportsmen for wearing a uniform." Unfortunately, it's not just
about wearing shorts. The situation is worse than that. Sport has probably been
targeted precisely because it is an effective tool for brokering peace and
peace is definitely not on the agenda of certain factions in Iraq today. Until
the perpetrators of these murderous acts are suppressed for good, there can be no
place at all for sport in modern-day Iraq. But don't blame Islam.
Dave Winship (4 August 2006)
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Victory will not be denied us!
"Winning isn't everything, but the will to win is everything." (Vince Lombardi)
Since the 90s, there has been a decline in competitive sport in Britain's schools. Activities
such as house and inter-school competitions have vanished from the curriculum, while sports
days have been engineered so that every child (or no child) wins a prize.
School governors in Norfolk have recently been advised by their Local Education Authority thus:
"The aim of Physical Education is systematically to develop physical competence so that
children are able to move efficiently, effectively and safely and understand what they are
doing. The outcome - physical literacy - is as important to children's education and
development as numeracy and literacy."
What would be the three R's of physical literacy? Running, rocking and rolling? Not even a mention
of sport or competition! It's all running and not races, movement and not matches, conditioning
and not contests. Obviously, the main responsibility of a PE Department is the promotion
of a healthy lifestyle, but surely it is not the only one? Winning may not be everything, but
even losing at something is better than running round in circles.
School PE teachers have always agonised over how to pitch the importance of winning in
sport. It cannot be easy to steer judiciously between the polar notions of "it does not
matter if you win or lose but how you play the game" and "winning is not the important
thing, it is the only thing." But the virtue of sportsmanship only has currency and validity
in a competitive context, where a premium is put on winning. Losing graciously is meaningless
if it does not entail coping with hurt.
The good people of Norfolk (and elsewhere) should demand a system that is capable of producing
champions. Competition is the whetstone of talent. If you can read this, thank a teacher.
If you're thinking how to challenge me or how you could put it better than me, thank a
good teacher.
Dave Winship (21 July 2006)
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Wimbledon 2006 - sartorial reflections
"Know first who you are; and then adorn yourself accordingly." (Epictetus)
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Roger Federer
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Roger Federer caused a bit of a stir at Wimbledon this year. It wasn't so much his achievement - his
fourth consecutive title at the All England Club was hardly a surprise. It wasn't his tennis - we've been
privileged to witness his effortless grace on the grass for some time now. No, it was that
jacket! The world number one announced his entrances and exits clad in a stylish cream blazer
bearing a personalised crest that incorporated a Swiss cross, tufts of grass, his Leo star sign,
the letter F and three rackets representing his three (soon to be four) Wimbledon titles. The crowd
lapped it up as he fastidiously placed the jacket around the back of his changeover chair and
the cheers were redoubled when he donned it once again at the conclusion of each match.
Ralph Lauren browsed the picture archives to re-create a new uniform for the umpires and line judges.
The classic look of the 1930s and 1940s re-emerged in the shape of navy-blue blazers and cream-coloured
trousers. There was a distinctly retro feel in the air throughout the fortnight. Clearly, Federer,
under Nike's guidance, relished the opportunity to contribute to the ambience. But it wasn't to
everyone's taste. Some considered it incongruous to wear the jacket over a pair of tennis
shorts. Others thought it smacked of arrogance. In truth, Nike steered a little close to the wrong
side of cool and Federer probably only avoided being dashed on the rocks of media ridicule because
the jacket was generously perceived as being tongue-in-cheek - in the manner of Cassius Clay's boast
about being "The Greatest". The British public thought the jacket was fun and Federer derived some
emotional leverage from their reaction.
Wimbledon is good at preserving its history and traditions without lapsing into self-congratulatory
snobbishness and pretentiousness. Oscar Wilde once said: "One should either be a work of art, or
wear a work of art". Fortunately for tennis, Wimbledon and Federer fall into the former category,
rendering debate about the latter redundant. Nevertheless, if Federer were to take to the Centre
Court in 2007 decked out in ostrich feathers, . . .!
Dave Winship (18 July 2006)
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Should we accept sporting migrants?
During the French Open, Serbian teenager Novak Djokovic caused a bit of a stir in these parts when
he expressed an interest in applying for a British passport. In a perfectly reasonable attempt to
secure a productive environment for their offspring, the 19-year-old's parents apparently held
discussions with the British Lawn Tennis Association during their country's Davis Cup win over
Britain earlier this year. You cannot blame them for this. The newly-forged union between Serbia
and Montenegro is already an unhappy one and the divorce is likely to be traumatic for all its
citizens. Their tennis federation is poorly funded and likely to suffer further constraints
as Pandora's Box threatens to open again in the Balkans. Furthermore, Novak's two brothers are
also talented tennis players, so the prospect of switching allegiance to the home of Wimbledon
must be an enticing one for the whole family.
More people than ever before are crossing borders in search of a better life. There's no doubt
that the world is shrinking and the globalisation phenomenon is changing our perceptions of
national identity. And that's not an entirely bad thing really. According to early 20th century
Spanish-born American philosopher George Santayana, "it seems a dreadful indignity to have a soul
controlled by geography". Albert Einstein went even further. "Nationalism is an infantile disease,"
he declared. "It is the measles of mankind." It is surely proper to consider oneself, first and
foremost, a citizen of the world, a citizen of humanity. Nevertheless, the concept of a nation
state is an important one to most of us. We are at least partly defined by a cultural identity
whose integrity is dependent upon national border controls.
Obviously, people have different perspectives on immigration. Some believe a free global labour
market with no restrictions on immigration would ultimately boost global prosperity, while others
suspect abandonment of the concept of a sovereign nation state would jeopardise the economic
well-being of the developed world. According to the United Nations Population Division, 175
million people reside outside the land of their roots, and, although this number has doubled
since 1975, it still represents a tiny minority - about three percent - of the world's
population. Many of those who do seek advancement elsewhere eventually return home. One of
the great challenges for the next couple of generations is to establish fair, flexible and
balanced immigration policies. Just as important is the challenge of integrating immigrants
into the cultural, political and economic environment of the recipient countries.
Part of that challenge is going to be the acceptance by sports fans that global migration is
just a fact of modern life. The ugly face of intolerance that confronted Greg Rusedski when
he dumped his Canadian passport and changed allegiance to join Britain's Davis Cup team in 1995
is just not acceptable any more. After all, Rusedski chose to be British. Those of us
whose citizenship is a mere accident of birth should appreciate that immigrants often take
more pride in their adopted country than those who acquire their nationality by default. One
hopes that if Djokovic satisfies eligibility criteria and represents the country in Davis Cup
competition, we will have enough grace to think of him as British - even when he loses.
Dave Winship (19 June 2006)
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Federer, Nadal and the Flying Spaghetti Monster
It's shamelessly topical to do so, but I must address the issue of the Holy Grail before the
trail goes cold. The Grail of which I speak is nothing to do with Mary Magdalene or any
other entertaining but ultimately risible hypothesis advanced by the likes of Dan Brown and
other descendants of Erich von Daniken (remember Chariots of the Gods?). No, I refer, of
course, to the Grand Slam of the four majors - the Australian Open, the French Open,
Wimbledon and the US Open - first achieved by Don Budge in 1938. Budge's feat has been
replicated by only one man - Rod Laver, in 1962 and again in 1969. Three women have won a
Grand Slam - Maureen Connolly in 1953, Margaret Smith Court in 1970 and Steffi Graf in 1988.
An emotional Roger Federer received his Australian Open singles trophy from Laver earlier
this year and now only needs to win in Paris to hold all four Grand Slam titles
simultaneously. That will be a tremendous achievement, but it will fall short of a Grand
Slam in the strictest sense of the term. Federer's name will only appear alongside Budge and
Laver in the record books if he wins all four majors within a calendar year.
I don't know if the Merovingian bloodline has found its way into Federer's veins, but his
divinity on the tennis court has at any rate been seriously challenged by Rafael Nadal in
recent months, especially on clay. The Spanish teenager now boasts a 5-1 lead in their
head-to-head series. However, recent scorelines, most notably in the Rome Masters final,
suggest that the Swiss has picked up vital clues on his quest. A fifth set tiebreaker was
all that separated the pair in their most recent encounter and Federer may well prevail in
Paris if they both reach the final, particularly if the conditions are warm and dry.
Close examination of Da Vinci’s "Last Supper" clearly reveals the tentacles of the Flying
Spaghetti Monster believed by many to have created the universe. I believe I have empirical
evidence that Ilie Nastase is a prophet of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Bear with me. You
will probably be aware that when Nadal takes to the court in the first round of the French
Open, he will be attempting to break Guillermo Vilas' record of 53 consecutive wins on clay.
What you may not know is that Vilas would have extended that winning streak by another
twenty-odd matches but for Nastase's so-called "spaghetti racket". In the final of a
tournament in Aix-en-Provence, Vilas stormed off court after being totally bamboozled by the
spins produced by Nastase's double-strung racket made of non-intersecting strings on
independent planes. The racket had already been outlawed by the tennis authorities but the
ban did not come into effect until after the tournament. And so it was that tennis history
first became entangled with the great Flying Spaghetti Monster. It only remains for me to
wish Noodle, sorry, Nadal, the best of luck.
Dave Winship (19 May 2006)
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Three stripes and you're out!
Next month's high court battle between Adidas and the All England Club at Wimbledon could cost the sport
thousands of pounds. In an action described as "heavy-handed" by All England Club chief executive Ian Ritchie,
the clothing company is seeking damages and an injunction against rules limiting the size of advertising logos
on players' clothing. It might seem strange that a symbiotic relationship such as that between Adidas and the
world of sport should end in tears, but the warning signs have been there from a very early stage in Adidas
history.
Company founder Adolf Dassler, a passionate sportsman himself, was a man driven by the vision of providing
athletes with the best possible equipment for their particular discipline. Along with his brother, Rudolf, he
started making handmade training shoes from canvas in his mother's laundry room in Herzogenaurach, near Nuremberg,
during the 1920s. Progress was swift. Dassler shoes were ubiquitous by the time of the 1928 Olympic Games in
Amsterdam. At the Berlin Games in 1936, they won four gold medals with Jesse Owens inside them. The Adidas name,
derived from the founder’s first and last names, dates back to 1948. One year later, the Three Stripes logo was
registered as a trademark. When Dassler's innovative mind came up with the screw-in studs that helped Germany
win the football World Cup in 1954, Adidas was well on the way to becoming the epitome of sporting success and
its founder's quest for perfection continued until his death in 1978.
Unfortunately, the fire also burned in the bosom of his brother. Rudolf Dassler launched Puma and the bitter
family rivalry spawned two giants of the sporting-goods market. Matters came to a head in 1960, when German
sprinter Armin Hary was offered money to wear Puma shoes in the Olympic 100 metres final. Hary had always worn
Adidas gear before, so he asked Adi Dassler if he would be prepared to top his brother's offer. Adi would
have none of it. Hary went on to win gold, wearing Pumas for the race and Adidas shoes for the medals
ceremony, much to the confusion and dismay of both brothers. The incident shook Adidas to the core and became
a catalyst for the ruthless war being waged by sports manufacturers today. Crucially, it broke the bond of
trust between Adi Dassler and the athletes whose performances he strived to improve.
Now sport has got well and truly caught in the crossfire of the trade wars, prompting the All England
Club's Ian Ritchie to complain: "We think it's a great shame that they are suing a group of people who
put all the profits of the event back into tennis." Adidas is suing the individual members of the All England
Club, so a writ will have been lobbed in the direction of Britain's Tim Henman, who, ironically, has been
sponsored by Adidas for years. Adi Dassler's philosophy was "stand by the sportsman". I wonder what Henman
thinks of that sentiment right now.
Dave Winship (28 April 2006)
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Half-cocked Hawk-Eye
Before Hawk-Eye technology made its debut at the Nasdaq-100 a few weeks back, I wrote that there was
plenty of scope for tournament directors, referees, umpires and players to use the right technology
in the wrong way. Well, guess what happened.
Before the instant replay system was installed for the Miami tournament, line-call blunders threatened
to undermine the integrity of the professional game. Injustices witnessed by television audiences often
had a significant bearing on the outcome of matches. In 2004, USTA Chief Executive Arlen Kantarian was
moved to apologise to Serena Williams after overrules and bad line-calls during her US Open
quarter-final encounter with Jennifer Capriati cost her a place in the last four. So the stakes were
too high to resist the implementation of a system that eliminates human error. Unfortunately, the movers
and shakers of the tennis industry spied an opportunity to inject an uncalled-for element of drama
and entertainment into the sport and the skewed system of limited player challenges was born. Kantarian,
a former marketing executive for the National Football League, was clearly influential in the decision
to approve a policy similar to the instant replay challenges adopted by the NFL in 1999.
Instead of ushering in a new era of fairness and accuracy, the fanfare in Miami has produced nothing but
a half-cocked Hawk-Eye which isn't even under the control of the umpire. It's as if the window of
opportunity has been opened only for officials to put up some eye-catching curtains. The powerlessness of
the umpires has been compounded by the inhibition of players disposed to save their challenges
for potentially critical moments late in each set. The arbitrariness of limited challenges produces
intrigue and strategy, but players will soon feel short-changed when they realise that
inconsistency and unfairness have merely been reconstructed when they could have been eradicated.
Fans will also share the frustrations when the novelty starts to wear thin. There must be serious
misgivings over a system that is restricted to a select few on the show courts at tournaments.
Hawk-Eye should be a discretionary tool in the hands of chair umpires empowered
to view an instant replay to resolve doubtful calls whenever they see fit. On clay courts, umpires
already respond to limitless appeals by players. The use of instant replay technology is quicker and
less intrusive than the spectacle of an umpire jumping in and out of the chair to inspect marks.
Implementation should not depend on the installation of big screens, but, where they are available,
they can be used to satisfy those who insist that the entertainment factor is exploited.
Instant replay technology is too good an opportunity for tennis to waste. The various authorities
should be constantly reminded that the goal is the elimination of erroneous calls and there should
be nothing else on the agenda. Every effort must be made to deploy it on all courts at those
tournaments that choose to sanction its use. Above all, the technology must be put in the hands of the
umpires.
Dave Winship (19 April 2006)
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Is Borg crazy to sell his Wimbledon trophies?
And how am I doing?
Well, I guess that I'm doing fine
It's been been so long now, but it seems like it was only yesterday
Gee, ain't it funny how time slips away.
(Willie Nelson)
How is Bjorn Borg doing? I guess he's probably not doing so fine financially, given his
decision to auction off his five Wimbledon trophies and two of his rackets. Initially,
the Swede explained that he needed to have some long-term financial security for those
close to him, but then, possibly embarrassed by the ensuing fuss, he backtracked by
insisting the sale was not for financial gain and the money would go to charity.
It seems like it was only yesterday that Borg despatched a crosscourt backhand out of
John McEnroe's reach, sank to his knees and gazed at the sky on clinching his fifth
Wimbledon title. Unfortunately, in the wake of a career that also included six French
Open titles, Borg has been brought to his knees again as failed business ventures
and expensive divorces have taken their toll. "Obviously, it is not easy to part with
the trophies that symbolise all the tremendous effort, both physically and emotionally,
that it took to win Wimbledon on five occasions," he said in a statement. His collection
of rackets and trophies has an estimated value of about £300,000.
Ain't it funny how time slips away. The man who penned those words, country singer Willie
Nelson, encountered serious financial problems of his own. Tax debt forced him to sell
his entire music catalogue in 1990 and the IRS raided his home in Texas, seizing
everything including his gold records. His belongings were auctioned and Nelson's
friends and fans bought most of them and gave them back to him later. Perhaps that
was what prompted Andre Agassi and Jimmy Connors to call on the All England Club to
buy Borg's memorabilia to save it from falling into the hands of a private collector.
"I can't make any judgments on Bjorn," said Agassi. "I can just say that the thought
of a Wimbledon trophy being in the hands of somebody who has a lot of money is
upsetting. It means a lot to the game. I've discussed it with my own people to find a
way to gather the right people together to do right by those trophies and do right
by the game by trying to purchase them. I think there's a lot of people who could step
up to help, Wimbledon being one and myself being another."
If such magnanimity succeeds in preserving these iconic treasures, Borg should perhaps
match it by offering to help foster the next generation of players. A series of
high-profile exhibition matches might prove beyond his capabilities, but national
tennis associations would surely love to avail themselves of the services of one of
the game's greatest legends as a coaching guru. Borg might otherwise find that a different
kind of debt - to the All England Club and/or Andre Agassi - might be, in the words of
another Willie Nelson song, always on his mind.
Dave Winship (14 March 2006)
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How strict should strict liability be?
Slovakia's Karol Beck, banned from tennis for two years following a positive drug test, says
he has filed charges with Slovak police against the acquaintance whom he suspects of
wrecking his career by spiking his drinks in a Bratislava night club. "I was at a night club
with members of Slovakia's professional tennis circle," he said. "I never thought something like
this could happen, but I have my suspicions who it was. I think it's more likely someone did
this to me on purpose. I have my reasons. Slovaks are jealous of success." If he proves his
case, pressure will mount on the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) to review the principle of
strict liability.
The fight against drugs in sport is underpinned by two things above all else. The first is the
integrity of the testing procedures and the second is the principle of strict liability, whereby
players are deemed to be responsible for anything in their bodies, irrespective of how it
gets there. The presence of a prohibited substance in a player's urine or blood sample
constitutes a doping offence. That's it. Case closed. Tribunals do not have to prove
consciousness of wrongdoing. It has to be that way because intent is just too difficult,
not to mention costly, to prove.
The world of tennis has encountered the issue of spiked drinks before. In 2003, an over-competitive
father was imprisoned in France charged with poisoning his son's opponent by slipping
an anti-depressant drug into his water bottle before a match. Tragically, the drugged player
pulled out of the match and died after losing control of his car while driving home.
The world of tennis has also encountered challenges to the principle of strict liability before.
Britain's Greg Rusedski escaped a two-year ban after testing positive for a banned steroid
when he successfully argued that the source of his elevated nandrolone level was electrolyte
tablets distributed by ATP trainers. Rusedski's defence relied on the fact that samples from
other players, who had previously been cleared, had the same analytical fingerprint. Unfortunately,
no contaminated tablets were ever found, casting doubt on the verdicts reached. Would you not
expect that strict liability meant, well, strict? Uh uh. Rusedski and the other players
involved in these notorious cases can consider themselves fortunate indeed to have been exonerated.
Strict liability is not the same as absolute liability. Players are not punished equally
regardless of circumstances. Although ITF tribunals do not have to prove intent, the accused
may rebut the presumption. That's only right - it would be rough justice indeed if victims
of drink spiking were subject to the same sanctions as intentional offenders. However, the integrity of the sport is at stake and the cheats must be kept at bay. Regardless of the
outcome of Karol Beck's appeal, it is crucial that the burden of proof of intent is not
shifted to the anti-doping tribunals. Strict must continue to mean strict where liability
for a doping offence is concerned.
Dave Winship (15 February 2006)
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Quitting is just a shortcut to losing
Amelie Mauresmo finally lost the tag of being the only top ranked woman never to
win a slam title when Justine Henin-Hardenne succumbed to an upset stomach in the
Australian Open final. It was a real pity that the Frenchwoman's celebrations had
to be constrained out of respect for her opponent and the circumstances of her
victory.
Henin-Hardenne suffered months of misery in 2004 owing to a debilitating virus, so
it might appear churlish to criticise her for being disinclined to push her body
when she feels unwell, but this was no routine training session - it was a Grand
Slam final! She owed it to herself and her fans and her opponent and the sport
itself to suck it up and do the best she could manage. With the benefit of
hindsight, she will doubtless accept that her retirement only brought discredit
on herself and on the women's game in general.
After the match, Mauresmo said, rather pointedly, that she was "prepared to die on
the court". Clearly, Henin-Hardenne's commitment fell somewhat short of that.
Ultimately, though, it will not take too much gloss off the champion's achievement.
After all, quitting is just a shortcut to losing and Mauresmo's name is on the
trophy.
Dave Winship (2 February 2006)
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Etiquette? Are you sure?
Picture this. Little Johnny is playing a match in the junior national championships. It's a
set-all and going with serve in the decider when Johnny rips a backhand passing shot that
lands plumb on the sideline only for his opponent to stick a digit in the air and pronounce
"No! Unlucky!". Johnny's parents squirm and gnash their teeth while Johnny retaliates with
the standard riposte: "Are you sure?". "Of course I'm sure," his opponent protests. The set
proceeds with Johnny in torment about the call. "I should have won that game," he thinks as
the points and games slip away. "It should have been 3-2 to me." Of course little Johnny should
not have let one disputed call cost him the match, but he's just 12 years old. He cannot be
expected to possess the mental toughness that even some of the world's most successful
players patently lack. Regrettably, a few more incidents like this will drive a disillusioned
little Johnny away from the sport. It's an all-too-familiar scenario. And it's not a few
rotten apples - it's becoming endemic in junior competition up and down the UK and, quite
conceivably, across the world.
No one would seriously contemplate organising a junior football match without providing a
referee, but when it comes to junior tennis, not only is Cyclops blind and Hawk-Eye in the
dark, but linespersons and even umpires are conspicuously absent, even at national level. At
best, a tournament organiser may be around to mediate disputes, but this person typically patrols
half a dozen courts or more. The professional game, which boasts several admirable role models
these days, may have done much to clean up its act, but, at the grass roots, rackets and
rules are being bent and broken without compunction. Along with gamesmanship and
excessive parental pressure, the problem of cheating really needs to be addressed.
If young players must accept responsibility for making calls in the spirit of fair play and
sportsmanship, you might expect that coaches and parents would ensure that the concepts of fair
play and sportsmanship feature at an early point on a child's learning curve, but that simply is
not necessarily the case. You hear coaches and parents complain that they find themselves in an
invidious position. With so much emphasis placed on winning, a player might interpret an
admonishment as some kind of betrayal and a bond might be broken. For the coach, it might result
in a significant loss of income. Sorry, that just doesn't wash. Those charged with developing the
techniques of young players must put the rackets down for a moment and start paying more attention
to character development.
Maybe the answer is universal adoption of the USTA Code of Conduct which emphasises, amongst a
core set of principles, the requirement to award questionable calls to the opponent. Maybe players
should be required to sign a declaration promising to observe the Code every time they arrive at a
tournament. But ultimately, standards of etiquette and sportsmanship will only be driven up once
coaches and parents accept that it matters.
Dave Winship (20 January 2006)
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Hawk-Eye: Panacea or Pandora?
Science and technology are advancing at a rapid rate, affecting all aspects of our lives. Sport is no exception.
We are witnessing great advances in equipment, training techniques, nutrition, psychology and medicine.
But it's not all good news. High tech equipment is expensive and can often exclude people from taking up
a sport. Firmer rackets may add more power to shots but they often contribute to the risk of injury. As
sports become more competitive, a minority are unfortunately tempted to enhance their performance by
chemical means.
The new year brings the curtain up on the use of Hawk-Eye ball-tracking technology on the professional tours.
Will it be viewed as Panacea or Pandora? Jennifer Capriati battled tenaciously during her US Open
quarter-final against Serena Williams in 2004, but she is unlikely to have won if the chair umpire and
line judges had not made four atrocious calls against Williams in the final set. So maybe people who can
be replaced by machines deserve to be. The Hawk-Eye system cannot guarantee 100 percent correct decisions,
but it offers more accuracy than the human alternative. Obviously, a greater degree of consistency will be
very welcome.
However, Hawk-Eye's success depends on other factors. Its introduction will inject some entertainment for as
long as the novelty factor persists. But, ultimately, it will be judged by the level of intrusion involved.
Ultimately, we don't want a circus. Wonderful technology it may be, but it still needs to interact with people
and there is plenty of scope for tournament directors, referees, umpires and players to use the right
technology in the wrong way. As Walter Lippman said: "You cannot endow even the best machine with initiative;
the jolliest steam-roller will not plant flowers."
Dave Winship (1 January 2006)
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