- Milos Raonic had the distinction of winning the last SAP Open
After 125 Years the SAP Open Bids Farewell
Bill Simons
Outside the HP Pavilion the $78,845 Mercedes was in place, glistening on its promotional pedestal. The sleek arena was dominated by a huge oversized billboard of a 22-year-old with a tricky name – Milos Raonic.
Inside, in a vast open lobby, huge bobble-like neon yellow balls set a festive tone.
But this was not a festive happening. This was the the last picture show – the 2013 SAP Open. Sure there were all the usual scenes and happenings. Back-benchers from the ATP ranks were out there battling, hoping for a breakthrough. At times mild applause from sparse crowds got lost in vast cavernous spaces. Then amps blared rock. The diamond vision showed blushing lovers kissing and kids gyrating in hopes of getting airtime. Courtside there was the usual familial imprint of the Silicon Valley: a wise old Indian grandfather, his son and a wide-eyed grandson holding one of those over-sized autograph balls and looking jolly.
But everything was not jolly.
After all this was the end – the last hurrah, a somber swan song. Northern California’s greatest public tennis happening was dying a not that pretty death. One hundred and twenty five years of forehands would be no more. And everybody knew it. There was a melancholy just below the surface, the gloom apparent. And as one walked the subterraneon corridors of the HP Pavilion, past one photo after another of past champions, it was hard not to flash back. Each photo evoked recollections of distant glory or infamy. There’s Stefan Edberg, once a doe-eyed boy wonder with a laser volley. There was Jimmy Connors, peacock proud, with a strut like no other. There was Agassi, with and without long locks, and lean Arthur Ashe, such a powerful elegance.
Ah, the memories. The decades of joy, the moments of inspiration now will be but flickers in the mind.
Thanks for the memories. Thanks to Barry MacKay, Bill Rapp, the Sharks, the ballkids, the ushers and everyone.
May we weep (or at least mourn) for just a moment.
This was the last rodeo for an event that had its heyday at the Cow Palace, but ultimately didn’t pass the smell test.
Somewhere there was a lack of collective will, enterprise and imagination. There is plenty of blame to go around.
Why had the once constant torrent of American stars dried up into a trickle of wannabes?
Why couldn’t the big Euro stars of the game find their way to San Jose?
Why couldn’t the ATP have taken better care of such an iconic event?
Why didn’t the promoters get a better venue and demand a better time of year?
Why didn't the media … and why didn't the community … and why … oh never mind, just never …
After all, the tournament, until its dying days, was said to have been profitable. But these days corporate outsourcing so often holds sway. So there were big paydays and big moves, and the SAP will be landing up in Rio while the Bay Area tennis will be left with a big vacuum and chewing a big unanswered question. Why did we lose our jewel?
Who knows?
What we do know is that 4:31 P.M. February 16th, German Tommy Haas stroked a gentle backhand that floated wide. The last SAP would end – not with a bang – but with an unforced error. Incredibly, for the third year in a row, the powerful Canadian man-child Milos Raonic would prevail.
After perhaps a million strokes, tens of thousands of rallies, uncounted implosions and more than a few tears, the tournament was no more. And after the final speeches were made, the last “thank yous” were offered and the bright lights were dimmed baffled Bay Area fans were left to ask one last question.
Will the show ever return?
