STANFORD, CALIF. — None of the players is named Rafa or Serena. The crowds, though fiercely enthusiastic, are modest by pro standards. Yet there are some who say the NCAA Championships is the most captivating event in tennis.
It’s not just that the collegiate extravaganza is a feel-good, slightly whacky happening that draws players from around the globe and fans in many an odd costume. (“Hey, there’s a Stanford senior dressed as an elephant in a pink skirt!” “How ‘bout that bizarre looking Baylor Bear and a couple dressed up as Tigger and Pooh!”) It’s not just that this year’s NCAA Championships at Stanford has drawn a bevy of semi-celebs and former college stars (USTA bigwigs, Pac-12 commissioner Larry Scott and generations of players and coaches). It’s more that once the first ball is hit, the competition kick-starts into a swirling three-ring circus of compelling rallies and daring shotmaking. Over on Court 3, a dazzling crosscourt forehand — flat and fierce — draws a roar. Seconds later, one of the best collegiate players on the planet flubs a sitter — groans and much misery. Break points, upsets, momentum swings — the action is non-stop. Forget changeovers or commercial breaks. Here the viewer gets hours of passionate (sometimes exhausting) battle. It’s a feast that can overwhelm. What will you choose to follow? Often even the trained eye has little clue where to gaze. Part of the fun is trying to simultaneously follow all six matches. Having a Ph’d in scoreboard-watching helps.
The collegiate players have everything on the line. Bob and Mike Bryan claim the event is the most pressure packed in all of tennis. Nine months of practice and match play are on the shoulders of young, often not that experienced kids. It’s not just that you’re playing for yourself and your school; it’s that the hopes of all your pals and buddies are on your strings. Usually there’s no big tournament next week to make amends. Even more than the Davis or Fed Cup or World TeamTennis, this is the closest the individual game of tennis gets to being a team sport. Conversely, NCAA dual matches (in which six of the seven points are decided by singles matches), are about as individual a team competition as there is.
In college, teams are boisterous bands of bounding buddies, fiercely loyal, all-hands-on-board squadrons. Everybody counts and, unlike football or basketball, the team’s weaker players have about as much chance to decide the results as its best players.
Not surprisingly, drama abounds. The Stanford women beat Northwestern at 1:30 a.m. The UCLA men fall in a heartbreaker. Tennessee’s No. 1 player vomited, and the top Virginia player walked off the court, mid-match, in disgust.
College matches have fabulous celebrations, but few fancy announcements, JumboTron replays or genius gimmicks. And ballpersons are notable by their absence: fetch your own balls.
Yes, there are few 140 mph serves, but we see teammates and fraternity fellows screaming in full voice: creative, neck-bulging shouts that are not always for the delicate. Orange-clad UVA fans seem to be out-yelling Stanford’s backers until the Cardinal cadre offer pulsating “LET’S GO STANFORD” chants that muffle the pleas of the visiting Virginians.
The sun may be dipping in the Palo Alto sky and we desperately try to learn about gutsy Guatemalans and names like Smitty, J.J. and slinging Sanam Singh from Chandigarh, India. Many hope Stanford will deliver a victory over the best team in the country for the event organizer, the legendary coach Dick Gould, who had worked so tirelessly to deliver a special happening.
In the end Stanford loses, but ultimately thousands of fans won. After all, the staccato peaks-and-valleys action of the NCAA Championships is a roller coaster ride like few others.
