Where Have All the American Champions Gone?
#000000;”>”Americans can always be counted on to do the right thing…after they have exhausted all other possibilities.” — Winston Churchill
The politician’s eyes twinkle. His voice quivers as he speaks of “a shining city upon a hill.” The TV analyst muses on “American exceptionalism,” while down at the arena frenetic fans rock the gym with their neck-bulging “U-S-A” chants. We Americans proudly celebrate our unique heritage. We’re not only special, we’re No. 1. Is this a collective vanity? Perhaps. Still for many this is a core belief. And why not?
Beauty, power, wealth, myth and meaning, a vast land of sweet liberty: from sea to glistening mall we have it all. From Tiger Woods to Tiger Moms, this is a domain that bristles with energy, vital and demanding. After all, at its best, the risk-taking American adventure — free and innovative, bold, diverse and sometimes messy — is imbued with a certain “mentality of ascent.”
This land is your land, this land is my land, from two-car garages to chickens in every pot. Our kitchens have the niftiest widgets, our factories have the tallest stacks, our jazz is cooler, our stars are hotter, our stadiums soar higher, and yeah, our athletes are bigger and better.
But now something is happening here. What it is isn’t exactly clear. Some call it globalization. Others say it’s The Big Shift. Now that plastics are a bit passé and many a Chevy is rusting, we’ve grudgingly accepted that some of our once-imposing smokestacks have been extinguished. Our tales of battle can no longer be told with quite the same unambiguous moral certitude. Once confident narratives of triumphant glory — noble and true — are now filtered by nuance. If the 20th century was the American century, what will the 21st be?
Yes, certainly, America is still grand, a singular player. No, the open road hasn’t wound its way to a used car lot, as poet Louis Simpson suggested. And few buy into former National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski‘s claim that American exceptionalism is merely “a reaction to the inability of people to understand the complexity of global issues.” Still, the world is now flatter. The big shift is imposing. Seismic changes are happening. Nobel Laureate David Baltimore notes, “America no longer has a lock on technology, Europe is increasingly competitive and Asia has the potential to blow us out of the water. The trends are real.”
Similarly, globalization has tilted our playing fields. It used to be that our stars seamlessly emerged from Iowa farms and Indiana gyms to dazzle our imagination. Names like Feller and DiMaggio, Mantle and Mays, Bird and Magic were the order of the day, homespun heroes with accessible backstories.
As for tennis, generation after generation of American icons (think Tilden, Wills, Budge, Kramer, Pancho, Jimbo, Mac, Pete and Andre, Tracy, Chrissie, and the Williamses) ventured from Philly’s Main Line or St. Louis, from Queens or Compton to command the international stage.
But there’s been a big change.
Perhaps you’ve seen the memo. Messenger-in-chief Brad Gilbert told us, “It’s not our birthright as Americans that we are going to have great players.”
“Sports are a microcosm of society,” added Billie Jean King. “When I was playing [from ’59 to ’83], we didn’t have to compete against everybody in the world. Now it’s a truly global sport, so the competition’s much greater, just like it is for our children in every other area, whether it be in science or technology or whatever.”
So who among us was really shocked when the past two heroes of the NBA Playoffs were German Maverick Dirk Nowitski and the Spanish Laker Pau Gasol? And things are only going to get more international. Four of the top seven picks in the NBA draft were from outside America. In baseball, former Dodger skipper Tommy Lasorda noted, “For starting pitchers we have two Dominicans, one Italian, one Mexican and one Japanese. In the bullpen we have a Venezuelan, a Mexican, a guy from the U.S. and a guy from St. Louis.” Overall, the Dominican Republic has provided 543 players to the majors. Golf’s next Tiger is an Irishman, Rory McIllory (the sweetheart of tennis’ No. 1, Denmark’s Caroline Wozniacki). And guess what, the last five golf majors have been won by two Irishmen, two South Africans and a German.
As for tennis, most of our gear has long been made in Asia. America’s leading racket seller is French. There are now tennis academies from Barcelona to Beijing and Challenger tournaments in many an outback. The Olympics have kick-started countless international programs. It doesn’t help that these days there’s no real defined American style of play. Elite American players seem all but allergic to clay, rarely training on the sticky stuff or gaining the savvy craftsmanship the surface teaches.
Still, our favorite theory comes from Joel Drucker, who suggested (with a wink) that it all goes back to the nasty old Soviet boss Joseph Stalin, whose tyrannical ways slowly bred a fierce hunger to escape the grind of Soviet life that long dominated Eastern Europe. In other words, says Andy Roddick, “they’re playing tennis to find a way out of the country as opposed to playing for fun.”
In many impoverished lands, there’s no free gear, no lights, no court time, no comfy locker rooms, no sports psychologists, no wildcards, few coaches. Marat Safin noted that tennis saved him from a life of “picking up bottles in a Moscow park.” Meanwhile, back in the USA, writer David Hyde said, “Finding an American tennis player winning is like finding my wallet at home. Is it on the desk? No. The stairs? No. The couch?”
The stats are daunting.
It’s been a record 32 majors since an American man (Roddick, at the ’03 U.S. Open) won a Slam. Last April, there was no American man in the top ten for the first time in history and there were stretches this year when no American man or women was in the top 10. Compared to 40 years ago there are more than 80 percent fewer Americans in the top 100. As for the Davis Cup, we used to be the alpha male. On average, we won the chalice once every three years. But now we’ve won just once in the last 16 years. Last year, we were booted out of the top tier of the Fed Cup for the first time ever, and Euro men are collecting Slams as if they are social security checks. One more newsflash: last year’s Wimbledon quarterfinals were an All-European affair for the first time since before WWI.
Of course, all is not lost. Serena Williams could soon be en route to yet another Slam title. And Roddick, ranked No. 14, Mardy Fish, No. 8, or even No. 18 John Isner could defy the ‘triopolistic’ realities of the Fed/Nadal/Djok era to claim a major.
And before the patriots among us dip our flags to half-mast, it should be noted that many an affluent tennis land is struggling. The glorious, Bjorn Borg-induced Swedish surge has sagged. Aussie tennis seemed to have gone under Down Under until Sam Stosur‘s shock U.S. Open win. And a British fellow hasn’t won Wimbledon since ’36.
America’s tennis headaches are hardly new. When all four finalists in the ’86 U.S. Open (Lendl, Mecir, Navratilova and Mandlikova) were Czechoslovakian natives, American poohbahs had a major snit fit suggestive of the panic that ensued after the Soviet Union orbited Sputnik in ’57. Soon serious-and-somber player development committees became the order of the day. Questions swirled and ever since, reading the tealeaves of American tennis has become a sport within a sport. Any mini-trend was fair fodder for debate. Has Roddick lost his mojo? Have the Williamses squandered their talent? And, of course, where’s our next great hope? Not surprisingly, when there was a slight flurry at last year’s Open, the New York Post gushed, “It’s a terrific story, this American men’s tennis resurgence.” But the cautionary New York Times got real, noting that “The truth is, American tennis is not back, not back by a long shot.” Over the years, every issue has been scrubbed clean.
It’s been said that tennis can scout and recruit outstanding young athletes. But Germany’s federation told boy Boris Becker, aged 12, “Take a hike. You ain’t talented enough.” And BTW, no really elite African-American has emerged from the considerable wake of Serena and Venus.
Certainly a vast national bureaucracy at the behest of well-meaning committees and boards can mass-produce elite champions. But Britain’s Lawn Tennis Association (which is bloated each year with $230 million in Wimbledon money) has had astonishingly dreary success (Andy Murray was primarily trained in a Spanish Academy and their next best player, James Ward, is ranked just inside the top 150). The USTA has been a bit more successful, providing major help for Lindsay Davenport and Todd Martin, and some aide to Michael Chang and other lesser players. Still, it’s not a pretty picture. No, it’s not, as was once suggested, that Russia has a pipeline and the U.S. has a drain. But, we now can’t boast a single blue chip prospect.
Sure, despite our 313 million population, many of our great athletes are drawn to all the other games that crowd the sports nation. But critics scoff: forget the argument that the pool for American tennis has been diluted. After all, Serbians, practicing in freezing pools in an almost forgotten land of just four million, are now key power brokers in the game.
That’s it, say blunt critics. Hungry Eastern Euros scratch and claw while Americans, according to three-time Slam champ Jim Courier “have become fat, dumb and happy.” Ouch!
Still among our wannabes, says Roddick, “There’s a healthy jealousy, which is good. If Donald Young sees Ryan Harrison play well…he’s not going to fall behind.” Nonetheless, Roddick said he’d like to see Americans “hungrier and really passionate as opposed to just being content with traveling around…[Tennis] has to be treated like a profession. Everybody else goes to work from 9 to 5 [and] puts in long hours.”
Okay, to become a champ, you not only have to be loaded with talent, you need to put in the hard work and have an incredible support system. But studies have shown that it takes hundreds of thousands of dollars to develop an elite player and once you’re on tour you have to earn $143,000 a year to cover expenses. “Without a system,” says Martin Blackman, the USTA’s prime talent scout, “We’re at the mercy of prodigies and private programs. The expense of developing a world-class player from age 10 to 20 is astronomical — training, traveling, equipment.” Prospects need gobs of money. Yet, according to sports psychology sage Jim Loehr, “Affluence undermines drive. If you come from a highly affluent family and there’s no real urgency to accomplish extraordinary things to survive, you’re not going to push yourself to endure a lot of pain. You have a fallback position. That’s why it’s not surprising that a lot of top players come from places where they have to fight like dogs to survive.”
“The Russians,” says coach Luke Jensen, “can’t go home. There’s 30 percent unemployment. South American, Argentina – there’s no economy, there’s no future. You’ve GOT to make it. You don’t have a choice. All the while, in America kids say, “I want to play soccer and be a lifeguard in the summer and if things don’t work out I’m just going to go home to Dad, no big deal.”
But as kids, Courier, Sampras, McEnroe, Davenport, Chang and Roddick weren’t exactly deprived. Pat McEnroe says, “I’ve never bought into this whole idea that our kids are soft.” In fact, says three-time Slam champ Mats Wilander, there’s too much pressure on young kids. Young talents who get high rankings are just pre-occupied with maintaining their ranking. Burnout is a problem. And even Agassi (an obsessed phenom who would bash tennis balls early every morning before brushing his teeth,) now sets a different tone, saying: “I would love to see people expose their children to all sorts of experiences — the arts, science, education, sports, music-and whatever their passion is, to give them the platform to explore. That’s ultimately what creates peace of mind in a child’s heart.”
So at first blush it would seem that commentator Doug Adler might be right when he says that, “American tennis is in trouble. Young players have to become desperate the way they are in small countries like Croatia, Serbia and Colombia, all these places where they’re trying like hell to get out, and tennis is their way.”
But hold on. This great sport, in this great country, ultimately has to be true to itself. Gilbert is right. The tennis world will not stop spinning if America no longer dominates. In fact, Federer, Nadal and Djokovic are not that hard to look at. Duh! They say men’s tennis is in a golden age. And let’s face it, America will never have the scorched earth ethos of Mother Russia, where, according to Svetlana Kuznetsova, the grandparents of today’s players fought their war “with nothing, without bullets, only with knife, and now they teach their kids to be always strong.” And unlike Serbia, we hopefully will never discover our children practicing their serves as planes drop bombs from above. And do we really want a culture crowded by over-zealous Tiger Moms and Earl Woods-like “Fathers from Hell” mercilessly force-feeding a win-at-all-costs mindset?
Still, these days American tennis has a lot of pieces in place. We’re a huge sports loving population with a competitive ethos of our own. The USTA’s new 10 and Under program reaches out to new youngsters like no other initiative before it. We have player development programs on both coasts that more than ever realize that there’s value to train on clay. There are ample facilities, academies, inspiring role models, a heritage like no other and coaches of every stripe. Visionaries want even more regionalization and more programs to lure urban athletes. And possibly all our recent economic woes will have a trickle-down effect and somehow toughen our aspiring talents.
So maybe a champion will emerge from some statistical construct: a big, fast, left-handed super-athlete with genius genes who was born early in the year (so he or she could gain confidence by beating younger junior foes) and has the fierce competitive (“I’m going to rip your scabs off”) intensity of a Connors and a support system like Evert, Agassi, Roddick or the Bryan Bros. that pushes, preps and props at every turn.
Yes, as Pat McEnroe noted, “You can always just sit around and pray that Sampras or Serena will fall out of the sky, or that Federer will be born in Topeka next time. Until then, what we can control are the players we have.”
Roger Draper, the boss of Britain’s Lawn Tennis Association, says nations “need to be patient. Unless you are a Murray or a Nadal, the transition from juniors to seniors can take much longer these days. The average age for breaking into the top 100 is now 24.” John McEnroe added, “We’re just not going to snap our fingers, we’ve got to be hungry.”
So not to worry, despite crazy-making signs of decline, the United States of America remains “a bright shining light upon a hill” – always was, hopefully always will be. But it just might be a while before (by that other hill — Henman Hill) a new young, dazzling American whiz emerges to lift Wimbledon’s coveted prize.
