1. MR. U.S. OPEN: We love him. We hate him. He’s the quintessential enfant terrible. He’s a knowing sage. He’s the penultimate loud, brash New Yorker and an American patriot. And (sorry, Jimbo) nobody has so embodied the U.S. Open quite like Johnny Mac.
2. JIMBO’S ROMP THROUGH THE HORS D’OEUVRES: It was an over-the-top operatic triumph, the most captivating run in tennis lore. In ‘91, James Scott Connors, 39, the washed-up has-been with a triple-digit ranking, the punch-drunk brawler who had been given the cold shoulder by tennis know-it-alls, swept deep into the Open with a glint-in-his-eye bravado. The N.Y. Times said Jimbo,”a beacon for all past-their-prime players, used mirrors, night magic and his mean two-handed backhand to cut a defiant swath into the semifinals…Connors reminds us how much we have given up by growing up. Lucky Jimmy. If only we could stop the party in the living room, make all the grownups applaud our naughty words, dance through the hors d’oeuvres, posture and preen and be a Terrible Two, the only time when a human being will be loved for conquering the world while crying.”
3. SLEW’S PLACE: Described as rough and gruff with a heart of stone, former USTA prez Slew Hester transplanted the U.S. Open to its Flushing Meadows site, which was 20 times the size of its old Forest Hills venue. A daring oilman with an adept political touch, he got crusty politicians, by-the-book bureaucrats and militant strikers to come on board to build “The House That Slew Built.”
4. A FEMALE FORCE: Played in a feminist hub, it’s a showcase for a sport where both genders play and a game that produced a certain pioneer named Billie Jean. Well, you connect the dots. It’s no accident that the Open was the first to have equal prize money for men and women, to feature a women’s final in primetime and to have a long string of fabulous women’s matches as part of its fiber: (Pick ‘em:) Navratilova vs. Austin, Evert vs. Navratilova, Graf vs. Seles, Capriati vs. Henin or Serena, Sabatini vs. Fernandez, Capriati vs. Henin, Hingis vs. Venus or Davenport vs. Serena are just a few that have enriched the Open.
5. NIGHT TENNIS: Nowhere else does under-the-lights/on-the-edge-of-your-seat tennis linger deep into the dramatic night like Flushing, where happy-with-Heineken throngs delight in p.m. sizzlers, such as Borg vs. Tanner, Sampras vs. Agassi, Agassi vs. Blake, Agassi vs. Baghdatis, Connors vs. Mac, Connors vs. Haarhuis, etc.
6. SUPER SATURDAY: At 11:13 p.m., little Brett Connors tugged at his beloved daddy’s leg after papa Jimmy lost to Johnny Mac in the ‘84 semis, the last match of Super Saturday. Critics dismissed it as just another example of American excess, but folks loved it. The term Super Saturday soon became an essential part of the U.S. Open lexicon. After a lengthy senior match, fans reveled in three great battles in which Ivan Lendl took down Pat Cash, Navratilova beat Evert to claim the women’s title and McEnroe prevailed over his prime rival.
7. OPENING NIGHT AT ASHE: The USTA had unanimously decided to name its $285 million U.S. Open stadium after itself. But after an unyielding, tennis-wide advocacy effort convinced the group to change the name of its prime venue from USTA Stadium to Arthur Ashe Stadium. Bishop Tutu and dozens of past champions, including elders Jack Kramer, Don Budge and Guillermo Vilas — who overcame a virus and flew 10,000 miles to appear — shared in a giddy evening of sizzling celebration to inaugurate a stadium that, despite its obvious limitations, would soon draw huge crowds and host many a dramatic confrontation.
8. THE DAWNING OF THE AGE OF KANTARIAN: Before Arlen Kantarian — a polished product of the marketing combines at RCA and the NFL — came to the U.S. Open, the USTA’s ideas of marketing included cute little kitty-cats and not-so-cute committee concoctions. Now Kantarian has ushered in a glitzy, market-savvy era that includes the U.S. Open Series (whoops, make that the Olympus United States Open Series) and the Open itself, which is now almost as much a showbiz happening as an athletic competition. Said to be the most powerful guy in the game, the daring dealmaker has so transformed the matrix that he’s become a verb himself (as in, “Can’t someone ‘Kantarian-ize’ this dull tournament?”).
9. FANFARE: On the one hand, it’s said that you can get a better view of the action from the Mir space station than from Row Z in Ashe Stadium’s vast upper bowl. Conversely, the cost of a U.S. Open shrimp ‘n chardonnay suite might cost you your mortgage. Whatever! Clearly, the Open attracts a delightfully diverse cross-section of Americana, from wide-eyed tourists from Roswell to well-heeled preppies from Westport and boisterous brokers from Brooklyn.
10. YOU’VE COME A LONG WAY, BILLIE: It seems just like yesterday that Billie Jean King was butting heads with the stuck-in-the-mud USTA good ol’ boys. All the more reason for celebration when the you’ve-come-a-long-way-baby organization pulled an about-face by re-christening its National Tennis Center as the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center.
11. OUR CHRISSIE: From fresh-faced rookie phenom circa ‘72 to six-time U.S. Open champion, Chris Evert proved a pretty ‘n prolific (and beloved) legend in her own time. Along the way, Connors’ former fiancé who was half of the greatest rivalry in tennis history, used her revolutionary two-handed backhanded to provide us with many thrilling Open moments, including her redemptive triumph over Tracy Austin in the ‘80 semis, which paved the way for her dramatic win over Hana Mandlikova in the final.
12. CRITIC-MAGNET: No other tournament attracts more critical shots (deserved and cheap) than the U.S. Open. Still, after all these years, the biggest blast came from unhappy camper Kevin Curren, who suggested that they should drop an A-Bomb on Flushing Meadows.
13. BEDLAM AND PANDEMONION FOREVER!: If you’re into the theater of the absurd, have a soft spot for Fellini-like circuses and a penchant for helter-skelter riots, you would have loved the ‘79 match between Romania’s brooding prince of darkness, Ilie Nastase and the sorcerer’s apprentice, New York’s self-appointed rebel without a cause, John McEnroe, 19. Not surprisingly, the crazed old genius unleashed every trick in the book: cursing, cutting up, protesting calls, flinging insults and stalling. Not exactly a Buddhist monk, Mac proved the perfect foil for Nasty’s (check-the-wiring) antics. The surreal scene was empowered by a perfect supporting cast; the fat, vain, but so endearing ump-turned-victim Frank Hammond; tournament manager Bill Talbert, who vainly tried to shore up the pillars of civilization, and Mike Blanchard, the straight-laced ref who’s ancestors came over on the Mayflower. And, yes, the plot was juicy. Nastase refused to play and was disqualified. The crowd of 10,000 well-lubricated late-night fans tossed garbage and seemed to be on the eve of destruction. Enter Talbert, who, after an 18-minute delay, replaced the perplexed Hammond in the ump’s chair with Blanchard. Somehow play was re-instated as Mac eventually went on to win the raucous match that seemed to shout to the world: this here tournament embraces, okay celebrates, bedlam and pandemonium.
14. SWEET PETE: Only Sampras’ incredible dominance at Wimbledon shadowed his stunning U.S. Open record. Right from the start, he took advantage of his power, precision and unapologetic opportunism to excel. At just 19, he swept aside Thomas Muster, Lendl, Mac and Agassi (who would win a combined 24 Grand Slams between them) to win it all and in ‘96 he played his most courageous match on U.S. soil. Never mind that he vomited on-court in probably the most dramatic day-to-light match in the history of “The Lou” (Louis Armstrong Stadium), he beat Alex Corretja in the quarters. In ‘01, he prevailed in one of the Open’s great matches when he beat Agassi in the quarters. But the Californian, whose mantra was “The U. S. Open is our Super Bowl” scored his greatest win in ‘02. Then an aging warrior, he hadn’t won a title in over two years. Players claimed he’d lost it. Analysts dismissed him as a non-factor or, worst yet, said he should retire. But he served sublimely, returned bravely and controlled the net to subdue Agassi. Yes, his historic, record-tying fifth Open put a hefty exclamation mark on the best career yet scrolled into tennis’ history books. But, beyond this, here was a poignant (“I’m out of here”) moment of redemption for a man who never wore an earring, sported a pony tail or rocked in a band; a sportsman who’s only mission was to win.
15. GRANDSTAND COURT: In the midst of all the cacophonic madness (think air traffic control meets Shea Stadium meets bottlenecking meets fresh off the grill hamburger smoke) that is Queens, the Open’s 6,000-seat Grandstand Court remains a well-kept secret, a surprisingly intimate theater in which fans feel a part of the action, whether watching Aaron Krickstein gut out another fifth-set comeback or Shuzo Matsuoka struggling mightily with debilitating cramps.
16. AN INSPIRING BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATERS: MLK and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, Americans remained divided over the Vietnam War, the Beatles released The White Album and chaos reigned in Chicago. Who better to usher in the Open Era in ‘68 than the wise-beyond-his-years and gracefully athletic African-American Arthur Ashe, who defeated Dutchman Tom Okker at Forest Hills?
17. BLAME IT ON WILBUR AND ORVILLE WRIGHT: More than eager to get going on a new tennis complex in Flushing Meadows, the USTA forgot one little detail. The place is about a lob and a half from La Guardia Airport. So those ear-shattering flyovers of the 2:25 to Cleveland quickly became the norm; that is until the USTA and politico David Dinkins pulled a few strings to get the FAA to reroute those nasty noisemakers.
18. YOU SAY HELLO, I SAY GOODBYE: Dazzling debuts and poignant farewells have long been part of the Open landscape. Our favorite debut came 30 years ago when pretty Pammy Shriver, 16, a gifted member of the outer-Kennedy clan, burst onto the scene and made it all the way to her first and only Slam final. Our fave farewell was in ‘89, when the revered, but aging Chris Evert lost to Zina Garrison. With a curious, bittersweet smile in place — her sad farewell wave of resignation expressed the deflating sense of loss any athlete feels when it finally comes time to hang ‘em up.
19. THE SPEECH: When the history of the Open is written, it will be crowded with Agassi citations. But none more poignant than his teary Lou Gehrig-like farewell speech in ‘06, when he told spellbound fans, “The scoreboard said I lost today, but what the scoreboard doesn’t say is what it is I have found. Over the last 21 years, I have found loyalty. You have pulled for me on the court and in life. I’ve found inspiration. You have willed me to succeed, even in my lowest moments. And I’ve found generosity. You have given me your shoulders to stand on to reach for my dreams, dreams I could have never reached without you. Over the last 21 years, I have found you, and I will take you and the memory of you with me for the rest of my life.”
20. THE LENDL PIVOT: Ivan Lendl, who reached the U.S. Open final eight straight times, was a pivotal transition figure who bridged tennis’ old rock ‘n rage days and the modern era of oversized forehands and undersized personalities. Lendl, who took his trade most seriously, brought nutrition, breathless training, a monster forehand and a no-nonsense ‘tude to the game. His pals knew him as a wickedly funny guy, but the masses bristled at his overly intense Soviet public-personality. His was not a career wrapped in gooey PR coups. Rather, one unsparing observer claimed that nobody could empty a stadium faster than Ivan and many still recall Sports Illustrated’s ‘gotcha’ cover headline, ‘The Champion That Nobody Cares About.’
21. WHAT THE DINKINS?: Back in the days when CBS’s Tony Trabert pointed to Pancho Segura or Alan King down in the stands, the Open was but a low-intensity celeb-hub. Then things evolved and it became cool to spot Donald Trump up in his suite. Nowadays, the tourney is a veritable Entertainment Tonight showcase as a parade of celebs saunter by. Still, you gotta give the Best-Celeb-of-our-Era medallion to former NYC Mayor David (“Sure, he’s not glam”) Dinkins, just because the guy’s been coming to the Open forever and has a bit more love, knowledge and devotion to the game than Streisand.
22. FLAWLESS FED: Since Bill Tilden, only Roger Federer has won the Open four straight times. Dressed in black or blue, with Tiger in his box, subduing every storm (whether it’s from Andre, Hewitt or Djokivic), there’s a reason they call this Swiss genius Mr. Perfect.
23. THE MARTINA WHO CAME OUT OF THE COLD: It was the stuff of a John Grisham novel. A talented 18-year-old serve and volleyer stealthily escapes the gray, Soviet reality of her native Czechoslovakia. There were FBI contacts, a plea for political asylum, a secret meeting in a deserted Manhattan office building with gun-toting INS agents, questions about her views on Communism, a media leak and a hurried press conference at Forest Hills. But on September 9,’75, after falling to Evert in the semis, a brave Martina Navratilova rocked the sports world when she announced her defection at the U.S. Open.
24. NEW YORK, NEW YORK: The Open is shaped, well defined, by the Big Apple. But two New Yorkers have met only one time in the final. Before playing Vitas Gerulaitis in ‘79, Mac observed, “It isn’t every day that two players who live 10 minutes from the Open reach the final. New Yorkers should appreciate this. It may never happen again.” But Vitas offered a different and noire spin: “They [the fans] hate us. Popularity-wise, I’m a notch above John, and John is a notch above Son of Sam.”
25. FASHION FLASH!: Whether it’s Sharapova’s Audrey Hepburn wannabe dress, Serena’s leather biker outfit or Bethanie Mattek’s (“I’m gonna shake your world”) rogue outfits, the Open is a perennial fashion adventure.
26. BIG SHOTS: The Open has produced a vast array of fabulous shots. On the women’s side, certainly Venus’ clutch backhand-down-the-line against Irina Spirlea to save match point in the ’97 semis comes to mind. And Federer fans can point to any number of shots, like one of his stunning backhand return of serves against Agassi. Others might suggest Boris Becker’s immaculate let-cord winner, at match point down, against Derrick Rostagno in ’89. Still, the best after all these years was Connors’ incredible running two-handed backhand from far off the court in the 4th round in ’78 against Adriano Panatta. With his body turned and the ball almost behind him, Jimbo uncorked a shot for the ages which whizzed by the side of the net and to this day astonishes.
27. PRESSERS: U.S. Open press conferences can get interesting. After his shattering ‘81 loss to Mac, Bjorn Borg hoped to avoid the media and famously scampered through the parking lot as reporters, fast in pursuit, traipsed behind. Jennifer Capriati was reduced to tears as she pleaded with the media to get off her case. Our favorite came in ‘88, when the insurgent ATP was banned from holding a press conference within the U.S. Open compound to announce a power surge, so they dramatically convened just outside the gates in front of the hordes of curious and sympathetic media.
28. THE BUMP: It was just a bump in the road. But it introduced the Williams era of in-your-face Big Babe Tennis. Famous-long-ago Irina Spirlea (who Richard Williams deemed a “big, ugly, tall, white turkey”) collided with Venus during a changeover deep into their ‘99 semi. When “V” didn’t flinch, the message was clear: this is not your grandma’s ladies game.
29. SLIM SLAMS: The long and winding road to tennis’ Grand Slam ultimately goes through New York. But in the Open era it’s been successfully traversed by just three rather indrawn foreigners: Rod Laver in ‘69, Margaret Court in ‘70 and, most recently, Steffi Graf in ‘88. Which begs the question: why has no American been able to do it, and why did those who did have such mild, un-New-York-like personalities?
30. C-E-L-E-B-R-A-T-I-O-N: Victory displays many an expression at the Open. At their moment of triumph, some (Agassi and Federer)just fall to the ground in ecstasy. Others (Becker) heave their racket into the stands. But our favorite remains Todd Martin, who, after winning a stunning night match, pulled a ‘Cal Ripken’ by jogging around the court offering a round of high fives to his delighted fans.
31. THE AGONY OF DEFEAT: Over its 40 years, 80 U.S. Open singles champions have been crowned, while players from almost 10,000 matches have trudged home to deconstruct defeat. Surprisingly, the most forlorn loser wasn’t even a player. Rather, a despondent Carl Chang, Michael’s coach, sat long and alone in Ashe Stadium musing on all the “couldas, shouldas and wouldas” of his brother’s loss to Pat Rafter in the ‘97 semis.
32. YOUR CHEATING HEART: Here’s a shock. Controversy sometimes washes up upon U.S. Open shores, like when Yannick Noah insisted that Ken Flach’s cheating cost him and his partner the U.S. Open Doubles Championships. “Banana-Gate” struck when TV cameras caught Sharapova’s support team offering low-level tips during her successful ‘06 run. And, oh yes, the USTA itself, inexplicably pulled off some backroom shenanigans in ‘96, when it rigged the draw and downgraded Euros in favor of Yanks Agassi and Chang.
33. LIFE IS BUT A ‘DJOKOVIC’: From the time Ilie Nastase mockingly insisted, “McEnroe keeps calling me son of a bitch. Make him call me Mr. Son of a Bitch,” to the time a fan called out during the Paul Haarhuis/Connors night thriller, “Come on, Whorehouse,” humor has been part of the U.S. Open’s fiber. Our favorite comedic moment came just last year when Novak Djokovic sent the crowd into stitches with his inventive imitations of a prissy, overly feminine Sharapova and a hyper, wedgy wiggling Rafa Nadal.
34. GETTING THERE IS HALF THE FUN: Some come in limos. Some drive over the Whitestone Bridge from leafy ‘burbs. The masses hop on the No. 7 subway, while Yannick Noah used to take the Concorde jet back and forth to Paris during the Open to be with his gal pal. Lindsay Davenport liked to drive herself, while, in the old days, the media bus would navigate through Queens’ hardscrabble boulevards as SWAT teams, with drawn machine guns, swooped down on row houses. But when it comes to transportation tales, nothing tops McEnroe and Peter Fleming being disqualified when they arrived late after getting stuck in a traffic jam on the Long Island Expressway.
35. THE PIGTAILED PUGILIST: In ‘79, a 5’5” pigtailed baseliner walked in uninvited to shake up the Evert-Navratilova rivalry, winning the first of her two Open titles. The fiercely competitive Tracy Austin was just 16, and her stunning 6-4,6-3 win over Evert made the Cal gal the youngest-ever Open champ.
36. “THIS OPEN WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY”: If the Ashe Stadium match you’re watching is a dud, just start counting the dozens of corporate signs within the arena. That’ll keep you busy. But come on, this is America, so wouldn’t you expect the Open to be more commercial than the other three Slams combined?
37. NOT EXACTLY WOODSTOCK, BUT …: Arthur Ashe Day is brash and bold — a loud celebration just before the Open that showcases Britney wannabes (and Britney herself) and is delightfully diverse. So what that it makes American Idol seem PBS, the world’s biggest tennis youth festival has introduced thousands to tennis and Ashe and his pro-education, anti-AIDS legacy.
38. TWO SHIPS PASSING IN THE SEA: When there’s a Mets game at the same time as a U.S. Open night session, you can spot the curious social phenom of two quite different clans passing by each other. It’s hard to miss that burly stream of boisterous Mets fans with their generous beer bellies and funky blue caps. And yes — as they trudge en route to Shea, they pass the spiffy incoming yuppie crowd of styling U.S. Open fans in their high heels and Armani jackets — which is ample reason for the blue-collar crowd to offer ever-so-slight glances of class disdain (or is it envy?)
39. THE POINT: A surreal, pivotal 19-stroke rally between Sampras and Agassi in the ‘95 Open final gave Pistol Pete the first set and all the momentum he needed. Sampras later deemed it “one of the most important and significant points” he ever played.
40. A CHANGE IS GONNA COME: In ’68 gas was 34 cents a gallon, a movie was $1.50 and players competed on grass with white balls wearing whites-only at the Westside Tennis Club. The purse was $100,000, not $20.6 million, the women’s champ won $6,000 and the men’s $14,000. Today, they each win at least $1.5 million. Then, 97,294 were in attendance. Last year, it was 715, 587.
