‘Twas the good old days of tennis. Oh, the games were so stylish, the strokes so sweeping, the elegance quite grand. Warm breezes, gentle delights. But truth be told, there were some flaws. The pay was non-existent, the governance was stiff, rather elitist. The geographic tilt was severe (and intensely eastern). Jews and persons of color were, shall we say, not exactly embraced. This was all pre-Arthur Ashe, pre-Jimmy Connors, pre-Billie Jean King and pre Alan Schwartz — a big man and a chatty innovator from the Windy City.
The Chicago businessman was the captain of his Yale tennis team, a nationally ranked player and probably the most entrepreneurial tennis whiz you’ve never heard of. The guy created community-oriented tennis clubs everywhere. It’s freezing in “Chi” town. So what, Schwartz and his clan constructed the Mid-Town Tennis Club, a notable shelter from Lake Michigan’s bone-chilling blasts. Minneapolis, Rochester, Atlanta — it didn’t seem to matter — Schwartz created 45 clubs: happening enclaves that were labs for innovations we all soon took for granted: indirect lighting, cushioned surfaces, the four-inch baseline.
Beyond this, Schwartz experienced the chaotic rating systems that plagued American tennis. Each region had its own Balkanized way. What a mess and people wanted to profit on the chaos. Schwartz and a partner stepped in and created the much celebrated, uniform NTRP ratings that have fueled the success of league tennis.
All the while, a much bigger problem loomed over American tennis. The USTA was stuck in the mud. Bureaucratic, exclusionary and at times self-indulgent, the prevailing wisdom was simple: creating change in tennis was like turning a battleship in a lagoon. Ashe and King were viewed as unsettling rabble-rousers to be kept from the clubhouse.
As for the tennis industry, God forbid, keep them at bay. After all, these merchants were simply profiteers who wanted to ruin the game with their widgets and take over the game with their avarice — ouch. Tennis may have been ruled by Eastern interests, but a kind of “everybody’s on their own” Wild West ethos prevailed. In the early ’90s a pivotal industry conference in Florida — “The Spirit of Sarasota” — called for unity in tennis and insisted free enterprise entrepreneurs could bring cutting-edge ideas to the dim ‘n stodgy USTA board. And voila, in ’95 the imposing Schwartz and publisher Gene Scott became the first tennis industry reps on the board.
Schwartz wasted little time. In his first year he penned the most important eight words American tennis, the now iconic USTA mission statement that says that the group’s purpose is” To Promote and Develop the Growth of Tennis.” Innovative and energetic, Schwartz hardly rested, as he pushed his favorite program, “Play Tennis America.” When his pathway to the USTA presidency was inexplicably blocked, he regrouped and re-emerged to eventually gain the top spot in ’03. There he played a critical role in pioneering the vastly successful U.S. Open Series summer cluster by bringing Canada’s critical tournaments into the fold and blocking TV time on ESPN. He reached out to teaching pros by making “win-win” deals with the USPTA and the PTR and made critical alliances with recreation and parks associations. Later he would promote the legendary achievements of Althea Gibson and oversee the construction of Flushing Meadows sparkling new $62 million indoor tennis palace.
Yeah, there were some bumps in the road. (His move to be elected to an unprecedented second term was deterred and he battled with certain top USTA suits.) Okay, Alan Schwartz is no “Arthur” or “Billie Jean”. Who is? But in his often wise, occasionally gruff and always dedicated way, the hearty fellow with the big belly laugh, was a singular trail blazer who changed the game. And that’s why on September 1st the Tennis Industry Association tabbed this larger than life fellow as their sole inductee into their hall of fame.
