Bill Simons
Inside Tennis is a sports magazine. But over the years we’ve explored many wide-ranging topics. As the presidential race heats up we will reflect on the surprising connections that both Donald Trump and Kamala Harris have with tennis in a two-part series.
We’ll start with Harris, and how she was delivered into this world by a friend of Arthur Ashe, Dr. Maynard Driver, a tennis patriarch who was a dear friend of Kamala’s mother and part of an aspirational community that defied obstacles.
Back in the 1950s, Driver was a sports-loving Black kid in Brooklyn who eventually went on to play a foundational role in Kamala’s emergence. Enmeshed in the golden era of New York sports, Maynard knew well that Jackie Robinson had just integrated baseball – the wide-eyed schoolboy would see his idol walking in his neighborhood.
But tennis was Maynard’s calling. He played on public courts and entered the circle of emerging Black players who were beginning to shake up the sport.
Young Driver knew the legendary Black trailblazer Dr. Walter Johnson, who taught tennis to many, including a lean introvert, Virginian Arthur Ashe.
Driver became the first Black captain of Columbia University’s tennis team, studied medicine at Howard University, and, in 1963, did his residency at Oakland’s Kaiser Hospital.
As the first Black gynecologist in the Bay Area, Driver faced many a racial hurdle. His surgeries were relegated to the middle of the night and he had to work twice as hard as others. His son Brad, a superb tennis player, told IT that when his family moved into the then all-white town of Piedmont, residents went to city officials and howled in protest, and police would interrogate his dad in his own driveway.
Dr. Driver persevered, and his practice thrived. One of his patients was a small immigrant with a big will, Shyamala Harris. On October 12, 1964, he delivered her first child, Kamala.
Driver was impressed with Shyamala, a native of India and an engineer and biologist at UC Berkeley. Brad recalled, “My dad had a very close friendship with Kamala’s mom. She gave our family a very lovely letter about what an amazing doctor and friend he’d been, and how much he cared for her. She was a single mother raising two kids, and he would always make sure she had everything she needed. He did that with most of his patients. He took incredible care of them far beyond the medical aspects.
“As Kamala gained office in San Francisco and then became California’s senator, we were like, ‘Wow!’ The really cool thing is that Kamala’s mom and mine were so involved with black unity, civil rights and the opening of a women’s shelter. They always gave back. You see that in Kamala a lot. It’s a legacy of hard work, higher education, excelling and understanding the speed-bumps and roadblocks that will be presented to us as Black people, even in a liberal place like the Bay Area.
“We grew up playing at the Berkeley Tennis Club. We spent as much time as possible with Dad, despite the higher-ups at the hospital having racist tendencies. We’d walk around the hospital, and the orderlies and nurses would just love him, because he treated everyone with incredible respect. He was always trying to empower people.
When we walked around town, people would say to me, ‘Wow – you’re Dr. Driver’s son, aren’t you?’”
Shyamala Harris, who conducted groundbreaking research on breast cancer, died in 2009 at age 70, from cancer. Dr. Driver also lost a battle to cancer, at just 57. Brad remembered that he “encouraged bravery and passion. He wanted others to feel strong” – just like their family friend, Arthur Ashe.
Brad explained, “Whenever Arthur came to play the Pacific Coast Tournament in Berkeley, he’d stay with us. It was such an honor. He was the kindest soul, the nicest man – just perfect. As a kid, Arthur had faced the same things we did as young Blacks, going to clubs and being in a white tennis world. Arthur made it all worth the fight. He had a passion to change wrongs. You knew what he stood for. He was more than a tennis player.
“That my dad delivered the Vice-President is such a part of our family legacy. He created opportunities we never imagined. And tennis epitomizes that.”
Brad, who was No. 1 in singles and doubles in the NorCal 50s, observed, “Tennis is a beautiful analogy for life. You never give up. You can play awful, but if you can hang in and win a couple of points you can change the match.
“My parents, Kamala and her mom made it clear: ‘As long as you stay in the fight, you never know what’s going to happen.’”
Brad’s daughter Mariah recalled that the tennis court was a refuge for her father: “He was a Black man who understood that he couldn’t be perceived to be a threat, be too loud or walk on the wrong side of the street. But on the court, he and his dad just got to play. He always played with joy.”
Brad said, “What I like about tennis is that it’s such an honorable game. You have to trust yourself to do the right thing, and honor your opponent. I’ve played this sport for 50 years, and I still feel its awe.”
Brad recalled his early days. “We learned tennis down at Berkeley’s San Pablo Park with the adults. We loved that four-court community, and the special feeling there. On weekend mornings, it was like a religious service. People would lean against their cars and watch. My sister and I were the top Black juniors, so all the men loved challenging us and watching us grow and succeed.
“I also played in Piedmont, and was part of a golden era with Brad and Dana Gilbert, John Saviano, Rich Carlson and Linda Siegel.” He sighed, “It was an incredible group. We knew there was a lot of other stuff behind the curtain, but we were the only Black family playing. We all went out and battled…It was a fraternity. There was a lot of mutual respect.
“That points to Kamala’s journey. She’s shown bravery, courage and belief in herself. That’s what Shyamala taught her, and it’s like Ashe and my dad. He could have fled the hospital administrators, who were trying everything to prevent him from excelling.
“My dad always told me and my sister (Wendy Driver Quinn, who was NorCal’s No. 1 junior and played for UC Berkeley), ‘Be prepared. Don’t ever let someone take advantage of you. You know who you are, where you come from, and you can overcome all of those challenges. Keep your eye on the prize.
“As for Kamala, she knew the arc of her journey, and the battles and landmines that were coming. She endured the narrative, ‘Oh, she’s just a hard ass.’ But she maintained her spirit and personality, even though people jumped at the perception that she was a cold-hearted woman. Both political parties viewed her as a threat.
“Now we’re beginning to look at her differently. She’s the same incredible, intelligent, driven (for the right reasons) person, with her intellect and unique skill sets. As a Black person raised in the Bay Area, I’m incredibly proud.
“Sure, plenty of times growing up I was pulled over by the police for no reason. But, generally, there was so much acceptance, and also at the Berkeley Tennis Club. There were so many good people – and you couldn’t tell if they had a million dollars or just five. They didn’t drive Porsches – they were normal. So when I look at Kamala I know she’s an extraordinary citizen from an ordinary background – and that will resonate with many.
“We all saw what happened on January 6…But, we can’t live in that narrative. Regardless of what side we’re on, we have a responsibility for a reckoning – to decide who we are, what we want to be and how we can achieve that. We’ve hit rock bottom and now have to ask, ‘How do we dig ourselves out of this?’
“Going back to slavery, this country has viewed Black culture as a threat. But we were raised with the phrase ‘Black is beautiful.’ Most thought it was just about our skin, but it was about our mind, our intellect – everything. My grandfather and parents always said, ‘Don’t make peace with mediocrity.’”
Brad Driver, the son of the man who delivered Kamala Harris into this world, died on July 15. Three days later, President Joe Biden stepped down and Harris began her quest to become the leader of the free world.
