By Bill Simons
We’ve lost a treasure, a comedic genius like no other, who we loved dearly.
Such joy and free-form laughter—a dancing, inventive spirit. Pure magic, yes?
Mercurial zaniness unleashed, a storm of laughter, unrestrained glee. And the late, so great Robin Williams had tennis in his blood.
Williams’ mom Laurie was a tennis devotee who played continually at Mill Valley’s Harbor Point Club in Marin County, near San Francisco. He was famous for his riffs on golf, but tennis would also be the subject of some of his withering takes. One example :”It’s weird when you watch women’s tennis, with all the grunting and shouting. It’s a bit like phone sex. So, you have to be very careful, and not get too excited.”
At the 2007 US Open final—where, ironically, Roger Federer beat Novak Djokovic , the greatest comedian (after Mansour Bahrami) in tennis history—I approached Williams and asked him if I could “have a word or two with the little son of tennis wiz Laurie Williams.”
Robin laughed. And yes, getting a laugh out of Robin Williams is a hefty mark of honor. So here’s my little chat with the greatest comedic talent since Chaplin:
You come here to the US Open again and again. Just what is it that you love about tennis?
The mental game combined with the physical. I love both.
You also go each year to Andre Agassi’s fundraiser in Vegas. What’s so special about Andre?
He’s just the kindest, gentlest gentleman. He’s an honorable man.
Do you admire the way he’s evolved over the years?
Oh, yeah! If you’ve ever been to his school, you’d realize it’s a gift. He went back to Vegas for those who are just like him, who have to work their way up the hard way.
You’re such an inspired performer on stage. What did Roger Federer show you today in the final, in terms of excellence under pressure?
Stay focused, no matter what.
We also saw you on court at the “Evening at the Net” fundraiser in LA, where you were wearing those crazy shorts. You said that they resembled a Hebrew eye chart. Your family has been at the Harbor Point Club (in Mill Valley, California). Do you ever go over there and hit?
No. I haven’t been there in 20 years, when I played with my mom, and you know what Freud says—stop!
