Sometimes it’s obvious. On-court tennis events often quickstart long lasting trends. In the ’70s, Bjorn Borg – such an appealing lad with flowing blonde locks — broke through and a (Wilander-to-Edberg-to-Enqvist) Swedish boom swept tennis.
Other times, “it’s not about the tennis, stupid” as events far from the court impact our game. Obviously, the winds of WWII’s battles diminished the competitive fire of many a star. Spy Alice Marble, diva Helen Wills, Coast Guardsmen Jack Kramer and Don Budge (who suffered a modest but significant injury during the war) come to mind.
South Africa’s divide-and-deny apartheid ripoff muted the white and black aspirations of a sporting land with a strong tennis heritage.
More subtly, there’s the pop psychology/conventional wisdom that contends the great explosion of the overly abundant riches and options of our iPod/YouTube/Twitter -‘till-you-drop world has somehow diminished the competitive fire and win-at-all-costs ethos of many a kid in the comfy Anglo-American universe. Thus, the problematic tendencies of tennis in the U.S., Australia and Britain.
In a more positive manner, when the Soviet Union crumbled, a Kournikova-inspired generation jumped at the opportunity to escape freezing basement apartments and windswept outbacks to grasp tennis’ dazzling holy grail: a an inviting world of sizzle, glamour and riches.
The ’92 Summer Games led to the construction of a dandy tennis complex in Barcelona, which attracted young athletes who could now battle each other on something other than clay. And so the Spanish Armada, which led to the emergence of Admiral Nadal, set sail.
Most recently, the ’08 Beijing Olympics has led to a new Chinese ethos. Okay, they say way back in the ’30s, Mao Tse Tung played tennis during the his army’s Long March, and racket sports (well, table tennis) were key to opening up Communist China in the first place. Now Cold War embarassments (think Hu Na defecting in California during the Fed Cup in ’83) would be forgotten. Michael Chang would NOT be the most important person in Chinese tennis.
Instead, the Asian superpower would awake and storm the bastions of world tennis. Perhaps the most underachieving tennis land in the universe, with a state-sponsored intentionality, would now not just manufacture Nikes, they’d actually lace ‘em up.
Focusing on doubles, resistant to all-out competition, managed by a controlling federation that was oblivious to tennis’ defining traditions and protocols (they passed on Wimbledon one year to play “who cares” national championships), tennis became a state construction project. Never mind the Cultural Revolution, this was the Tennis Revolution in the land of 1.3 billion souls.
In anticipation of their own Olympics, China’s Li Ting and Sun Tiantian came out of nowhere to stun tennis and capture the doubles gold in Athens in ‘04 . And in ’08, Yan Zi and Jie (“Great Wall of China”) Zheng won the bronze. Li Na reached the ’06 Wimbledon quarters, and Jheng stormed to the ’08 Wimby semis. Then both of them stroked their way deep into the AO, the first time two Chinese players had both reached a Slam major.
The Chinese media swarmed. Millions in the Middle Kingdom tuned with wonder.
But it was not to be. Two of the most established brands of our era – little Justine Henin and big Serena Williams – had other thoughts as they deconstructed China’s great tennis construction project.
Oh well. China’s run was impressive, the effort great. “They go for every point,” gushed Mary Carillo. “It’s part of their work ethic, it’s part of their culture.”
As for the future, commentator Dick Enberg was certain: “It’s going to be an avalanche.”
China at last has a player in the top ten, five million recreational players and, almost certainly, in some anonymous village in Guizhou province, a six-year-old girl sat transfixed by her TV. Inspired by her countrywomen, a spark was lit, a journey begun.
Let a thousand tennis balls bloom.
