The 1930s and 1940s plus the 1950s for the Women players.

It depends on what we are talking about.
If we talk about a full year, so when you are young you are more consistent.
But for a single match or a single tournament (so the peak), I pick the older version.
Of course they have to be top players in both versions.
If at 1995 you are number one and in 2005 you are number 100, so it doesn't make any sense.
But if you are still good, older is better. Like 10 years hitting balls every day, evolution of the game, matches vs opponents.
All these stuff push up at higher level

So why Fed, Pete and Agassi said that?
I can find more examples of you want.
If I recall well, Rosewall said something similar in the Open Era (so way after his "peak"...).
How do you explain that?

It shouldn't really need to be explained that Federer on the whole was better in his peak years. Federer has compensated for the decline of his physical gifts remarkably well but he can't cover all of them.
I have found that when you have list of super matches, it tends to be the younger player.

Examples, Vines at Wimbledon against Austin in the final in 1932, Vines was 20. Connors at Wimbledon or the US Open in 1974 against Rosewall. Connors was 22. Borg against Connors in the Wimbledon final of 1978 when Borg was 22. McEnroe against Connors at Wimbledon in 1984 when McEnroe was 25. Sampras against Agassi at Wimbledon in 1999 when Sampras was 28. Federer against Hewitt at the US Open in 2004 when Federer was 23. Budge versus Austin at Wimbledon in 1938 when Budge was 23. Edberg versus Courier at the US Open final in 1991 when Edberg was 25. Most of Hoad's legendary matches were when he was in his early twenties to mid twenties.

You can't play well if you don't have the physical talent anymore.
 
I tend to think as outside observers we have a clearer perspective.

Your position makes little sense to be frank. If Pete's level of play was higher then surely he would have had a better record? Results should follow from level of play. He could rarely reach that level of play then by what measure was he better as an older guy?

But hey maybe you're right, maybe I should trust them. Also btw I have some magic beans I'd like to sell to you.

Can I sell him the Brooklyn Bridge?
 
Incidentally can we get back on topic? I can't believe that we are debating this. In sports the only time players improve as they age is if they use Performance Enhancing Drugs aka PEDs.
 
Lendl against Mecir US Open final 1986. Lendl was 26. Lendl against McEnroe 1985 US Open final. Lendl was 25.
 
I'll give you a bean that grows space shuttles. Or how about a space shuttle that can be the Brooklyn Bridge?

Well my bean stalk grows GOAT's. What size do you want?

I have a Pancho in a 6'2 and a half? Or perhaps a nice red Rocket in a 5'8? These days a Swiss 6'1 is the popular choice.
 
How can you weight this assertion?
I mean, is there a math cause --> effect?

The rise in holding %s is incremental, across the tour.

Federer's stats have dropped quite across a single year (2006-> 07, 2008->09)

The return stats of players in general fluctuate or vary far more.
 
What exactly do you want us to look at in that post ?

the high winner rate or something else ?
"Everyone was getting better when I was No 1 in the world and winning majors left and right. I was 10 times the player as I got older. When I was dominating I didn't have any bad matches and players overall weren't as good. The 2002 US Open Pete would beat the 1994 or 1995 Pete easily."
 
The other quote of Sampras.
He said more than what I have posted before

He says :

" I was 10 times the player as I got older."

you want to take that at face value ?

(I've seen that thread and read the whole thing before btw)
 
He says :

" I was 10 times the player as I got older."

you want to take that at face value ?

(I've seen that thread and read the whole thing btw)
I like more the end of the statement.
About Pete2012 beating Pete1994 easily.
Of course I think the same of Fed2017 vs Fed2007
 

Sampras won 151 points overall, Agassi 126.

Just a few points here. Agassi, who was never the fastest player in the universe is easier to hit winners against as opposed to a Nadal or Federer. So while 75 winners is excellent I'm not sure how great it truly is. The other thing is that he did lose a set in the 2002 final when he didn't lose a set in 1999 Wimbledon final. Sampras was a plus 21 in points won in three sets in 1999 with 106 to 85.

Champions have egos and of course it is a romantic notion for a player to believe he played his absolute best in his last match.

I'm sure Sampras played well but it's hard to measure actual level of play. He could be right but I'm skeptical.
 
I don't think Sampras 2012 was 10 times better than Sampras 1995.
Neither that he would have won easily.
But that he was a better player and a winner vs his younger counterpart, yes

But why ?

Sampras himself says so, no ?

weren't you going to go by his words rather than what you see or think or the stats ? ;)
 
But why ?

Sampras himself says so, no ?

weren't you going to go by his words rather than what you see or think or the stats ? ;)
Saying that he's 10 times better can be an hyperbole.
He can't measure that.
But what he says is pretty clear.
Or what other players say
 
@NoMercy

I don't think we're going to get anywhere here. I disagree with you. Let's leave it at that. Nothing can be absolutely proved.
 
Saying that he's 10 times better can be an hyperbole.
He can't measure that.
But what he says is pretty clear.
Or what other players say

exactly , it IS hyperbole. You are using your head to determine that its hyperbole.

And I'm using what I've seen+ the records over the years +the stats of the matches. I know Sampras was better at his peak, when he was younger.
 
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I may do something on Maureen Connolly tomorrow. Got some stuff to do and I play tennis tomorrow at 5:30 am!
 
@pat200

Maureen Connolly aka Little Mo

Maureen Connolly was one of these unique stories in life that always seem to amaze me. Connolly was born in San Diego, California in the United States and raised by her mother who divorced her father when Maureen was age 3. Connolly started playing tennis at age 9 and took lessons from the University Heights Playground coach Wilbur Folsom. Connolly picked up the balls for Folsom who was handicapped with a prosthetic leg and Folsom gave Maureen tennis lessons in return. Eventually the talent Connolly, at age 12 became the student of Eleanor "Teach" Tennant who also taught the great Alice Marble. Under Tennant, Connolly progressed quickly and developed a power groundstroking game despite her small stature at 5'5" tall which is approximately Justine Henin's height. Connolly was nicknamed Little Mo after the battleship Missouri and the ship's guns.

Maureen Connolly was arguably the most dominant female player in history in the majors. After losing in the second round of the US Championships in 1949 and 1950, she won the next 9 majors she entered including the Grand Slam in 1953! Connolly was a fierce competitor and according to her book, believed she couldn't win without hatred of her opponent when she was coached by by Tennant. She had a great fear of losing. I have found many great champions have greater fear of losing than the enjoyment of winning. I believe Jimmy Connors said "I hate to lose more than I love to win."

After a huge dispute with Tennant, Connolly found a new coach in the legendary Harry Hopman. Her chaperone was Hopman's wife, Nell who Maureen said helped her learn to play tennis without hating her opponents. So Connolly was actually the first player to win a Grand Slam under Hopman. She won it 9 years before another player of Hopman's in Rod Laver in 1962.

The recreation that Connolly loved so much, horseback riding was indirectly the cause of the early end of her great career. While Maureen and her friends were horseback riding on a narrow side road, a loud cement truck passed between them, causing her horse "Colonel Merryboy" to whirl while the truck's rear mudguard caught Maureen leg and threw her to the ground. The impact tore the muscles at the knee, broke and exposed the bone which cause the end of her career. Connolly sadly passed away of cancer at the young age of 34.

They actually made a soap opera type movie biography on her life. I don't think it's the greatest movie but I must admit I did enjoy the combination of the tennis and the sob story.

Here's the link to it on youtube.
 
Come on guys, there has to be some interesting stuff on people like Riggs, Marble, Wills and Lenglen.

I'll give you something, Alice Marble apparently was a spy during WWII. It was a real life version of the old TV show I Spy starting Robert Culp in which he played a tennis player who was really a spy.


Pc1:

Thanks for starting great thread and the videos. I will contribute a semi-comprehensive piece on Rigss of the 1930s and very early 40s. I'll send it by Saturday.

In exchange, could you make the best case for Vines in as much detail as you like, and what should be his all-time ranking? As I recall, you think extremely highly of him. I have been researching him and have mixed opinions and am a little skeptical albeit I think he makes top 20.

Thanks.
 
some players need to win a lot before they can convince themselves that they´re not all bad. others believe in themselves from early on.
i don´t want to hijack this thread but i believe that Zverev has that believe and i don´t think Thiem has it.


Hope you are wrong about Thiem. But agree let's stay in 1930s and 40s
 

Her and Dupont to me, along with Doris Hart, end up being very underrated historically.

Doris Hart- Before there was Ivan Lendl with his Major Finals record, there was Doris Hart who was 6-12 in major finals. She was the direct Victim of Lil Mo in 3 major finals in 1953, and of Brough and Dupont other times. She also had some kind of condition that lead to a permanent impairment in one of her legs, making her achievements even more remarkable. She is also one of only 3 people in history to have a "boxed set" the taking on every major title possible to win. The others are Court and Navratilova...very lofty company

Brough and Dupont- Before there was Shriver and Navratilova, these 2 were arguable as the best doubles team every to grace the courts. The pairing won 19 majors together in doubles including 9 straight US Open titles beating all the other doubles greats of the day arguably. Neither was a slouch in singles each winning 6 majors and making multiple other finals. They were fierce rivals but also best of friends off the court. Both missed a career slam in singles by one major. Brough never played the Aussie because she couldn't afford to go before she was married and after she was married her husband forbid her to go. Brough never won the French, she only entered it like 4 times and her best results were the SF.

No one really pays these 3 due notice in my mind. Betz and Lil Mo get a lot of respect (and rightfully so) but these 3 ladies, and to a lesser extent Shirley Fry, were right there alongside them in the 1940s/early 1950s
 
Since I mentioned Shirley Fry, I'll throw her a little respect in this group. She does have a career slam in singles, winning exactly one of each. She was a force of a doubles player in this time period, with her and Hart being the dominant force of the early 1950's in doubles. This is notable in the sense that the other teams were Brough /Connolly and Brough/Dupont depending on what Dupont played as she wound down her career.

In singles she was more of the lucky last lady standing of her Generation in that she won 3 of her 4 majors when everyone else had retired and before anyone else really emerged, well she beat Gibson twice in her career infancy on the national scene. Not that it doesn't make them wins but she had a golden opportunity and she pounced on it perfectly.
 
Her and Dupont to me, along with Doris Hart, end up being very underrated historically.

Doris Hart- Before there was Ivan Lendl with his Major Finals record, there was Doris Hart who was 6-12 in major finals. She was the direct Victim of Lil Mo in 3 major finals in 1953, and of Brough and Dupont other times. She also had some kind of condition that lead to a permanent impairment in one of her legs, making her achievements even more remarkable. She is also one of only 3 people in history to have a "boxed set" the taking on every major title possible to win. The others are Court and Navratilova...very lofty company

Brough and Dupont- Before there was Shriver and Navratilova, these 2 were arguable as the best doubles team every to grace the courts. The pairing won 19 majors together in doubles including 9 straight US Open titles beating all the other doubles greats of the day arguably. Neither was a slouch in singles each winning 6 majors and making multiple other finals. They were fierce rivals but also best of friends off the court. Both missed a career slam in singles by one major. Brough never played the Aussie because she couldn't afford to go before she was married and after she was married her husband forbid her to go. Brough never won the French, she only entered it like 4 times and her best results were the SF.

No one really pays these 3 due notice in my mind. Betz and Lil Mo get a lot of respect (and rightfully so) but these 3 ladies, and to a lesser extent Shirley Fry, were right there alongside them in the 1940s/early 1950s
you have to wonder how much a Europe, largely sidelined both prior to, during and after WW2, impacted on the careers of the women of England, France, Germany, Spain, etc. Men got drafted, but women took their jobs far earlier than here, and NOBODY had much time to worry about their service motion. heck, the courts themselves were often destroyed. A lot of great talent must have been completely neglected or ignored for almost two generations while Europe recovered from the impact of fascism and militarism that began in the 1930's.
 
Come on guys, there has to be some interesting stuff on people like Riggs, Marble, Wills and Lenglen.

I'll give you something, Alice Marble apparently was a spy during WWII. It was a real life version of the old TV show I Spy starting Robert Culp in which he played a tennis player who was really a spy.

I know you wanted to get back on topic, and I promised something on Riggs. Here goes nothing on Riggs up to World War II. I'd love to see more on these decades. And PC1, don't forget I am hoping for some compelling arguments regarding Vines. Now to Riggs, which I will divided into parts:


Saga of a Scoundrel


Robert Larimore “Bobby” Riggs (California).

© 2017 Carthach Productions, LLC



You’re only kidding yourself,” Los Angeles Tennis Club President Perry Jones told Bobby Riggs in early 1936. “You haven’t got a chance of making the first ten. If you go, you’ll be strictly on your own. You won’t be considered a representative of this association in any way.”[1]

Bobby figuratively thumbed his nose at Jones, the most powerful tennis politician in the western United States, and took off on-tour, on his own. With the help of an eccentric backer and Bobby’s older brother, the 18-year old Riggs not only toured, but won at least nine world-class events, on a record of just-about 64-8.[2]

In the process, he bet on his own matches, pushed (but did not defy) court etiquette, and was occasionally referred to in the press as “the bad boy of tennis.” Jones wrote ahead to all the tournaments to make clear that Riggs did not represent the Los Angeles Tennis Club. Morevoer, Riggs was a “fresh, unmanageable player,” Perry advised.

He was a renegade.

The renegade, out there on his own, won tournaments, beat most of the U.S. top-10 players at least once and finished the year ranked fourth in the country, according to the USLTA official rankings.

He used touch, tactics and smarts — even at this young age — to outduel his opponents. But toward the end of the season, his skeptics noticed his game evolving. They noticed him sometimes switching from pure defense to strong, deep drives and occasional winning approaches to the net.

Anyway you look at it, it was a remarkable, and admirably bold, rookie campaign by the 18-year old upstart.

When he finally returned to Los Angeles, after a scholarship offer at the University of Miami was withdrawn because Bobby refused to attended classes, Jones was grudgingly conciliatory.


“Maybe we underestimated you, Bobby.”[3] It would not be the last time.


(This retelling of Bobby’s go-it-alone early career and relationship with Perry Jones relies in large part on the account of this period in, LeCompete, Tom, The Last Sure Thing, Easthamption, MA, Skunkworks Publishing, 2003, pp. 53-74, as well as Riggs, Bobby, Tennis is My Racket, Simon and Schuster 1949).


Many of the readers who know of Bobby Riggs, may think of him as a gambler, conniver, monumental self-promoter, perhaps buffoon. A few might suspect, or think, he was a criminal.

We will get into all those things. But first and foremost, Bobby Riggs was a tennis champion.

Prior to research, I had no time for Bobby Riggs, his seemingly “patty cake” tennis, and pathetic self-promotion, bets, ruses and hustles, highlighted by near humiliation against Billie Jean King in the so-called “Battle of the Sexes.” But I knew there was more to it than that – there had to be. Turns out, there is much more to it.

Jack Kramer exaggerated in the late 1970s when he ranked Riggs as one of the 10 best players in history (Kramer actually appears to rank Riggs sixth). Still, for more than a dozen years, Riggs was never lower than the seventh best player in the world, amateur or pro.[4] He won as many as 99 world-class titles, and certainly no fewer than 90.[5] In three different seasons, Riggs won 14 or more titles. For the first three years after the War, he was very probably the second best player in the world.


This is a story of a scrawny, always underrated kid, who, despite breaking the rules – and deliberately being denied hard-earned opportunities to travel and improve his game – nevertheless rises steadily to the top of tennis:

• a story of the son of a fundamentalist preacher, who grows up to be the first player ever called “The Bad Boy of Tennis,” an addicted-but-accomplished gambler, pretty fair adulterer, and possibly a fraudster;

• a story of a player so good, he won close to 100 world-class titles, amateur and pro, including seven majors, about 14 tournaments comparable to today’s Masters’ 1000 and another dozen or so prestige tournaments;

• so good he won 10 of 25 matches in a tour against Don Budge when Budge was still at his peak;

• so good, he was “good enough” at the right time to be the official Amateur No. 1 in 1939 and the professional No. 1 for 1946-47;

• a story of an incredible, and incredibly weird, “tennis comeback” more than 20 years after retiring;

• and a story of a hustle that turned into a serious match with serious cultural implications, and of the mystery and suspicion about that match.


[1] Riggs, Bobby, Tennis Is My Racket, Simon and Schuster 1949, p. 54

[2] Tennisarchives.com for the tournaments won. The thetennisbase.com for the 64-8 record. Riggs’ biographer said he lost seven matches in 1936. Tennisarchives.com shows a 54-6 record with nine tournaments. Riggs’ biographer says he lost seven matches that season. And, in fact, the tennisbase.com only shows seven tournament losses.

[3] Riggs’ memory. But under the circumstances, prior and subsequent, such a guarded admission by Jones rings true.

[4] 1937-49. He was also surely top-10 in 1936.

[5] thetennisbase.com reports 99 tournament victories.
 
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The scrawny-underrated-kid-story is a variant on a classic tale of a combination of great pluck, athletic intelligence, and pure athleticism. Riggs’ rise in tennis is just another of the thousands of sports lessons reminding us to “never judge the book by its cover.” Small, slight guys can be just as athletic as their bigger rivals, and occasionally even more so. You don’t win the kinds and numbers of titles Riggs won just by being sneaky, or even strategic. He was one of the best baseliner players of the entire “Golden Era” and no one covered the court any quicker than Riggs. The man had serious tennis skills.

Perry Jones liked the “big game” style of tennis emerging out of Southern California at the time, embodied by Gene Mako until he irreparably injured his shoulder in 1936, and, soon thereafter, by Jack Kramer and Ted Schroeder. Bobby was never going to play such a style. As of 1936, Jones and others dismissed him as a defensive player, or “ball pusher.” Jones liked smartly dressed players. Bobby seemed deliberately unkempt. And he liked boys to be respectful. Bobby didn’t exactly break any rules, but he was off-handed and smart-alecky. Mainly, though, Bobby was too small and would never develop a net game, in Jones’ opinion. The latter was probably the main reason that Jones, generally a good judge of emerging tennis stars, told the boy it was a no-go as far as any chance to tour in 1936.

Jones’ rapprochement at the end of 1936 was eagerly accepted. Bobby practiced hard that Los Angeles winter on improving his game. His long-time coach was Esther Bartosh, who taught him the precision, mistake-minimizing game that Riggs later labeled “Airtight Tennis,” sent him to train under Eleanor “Teach” Tenant, coach of Alice Marble. It is another “Battle of the Sexes” oddity that Riggs – who had no particular objection to the women’s movement anyway – was coached by women.

In 1937, Riggs won at least 11 tournaments and was clearly the second best American amateur, after Budge. But tennis officialdom did not much like the puckish parvenu. They heard of his inveterate and high-stakes gambling and did not approve his driving a new Cord automobile bought with his winnings. Fans gave him mixed reviews. His wit and “bad boy” reputation attracted the fans, but his cautious tennis style befuddled and even bored them.

The 1937 season might have gone differently. Supporters in Los Angeles raised money for Bobby to compete in Europe and at Wimbledon. But he was asked to join the Davis Cup squad, training on the east coast. He gave back the money and traveled east with high hopes.

Riggs was completely nonplussed when he arrived as requested, only to be told he was just there to practice with the team. With the exception of Don Budge, Bobby gave the team members more than practice - he gave plenty of beatings. Given the chance to push for Riggs to make the Davis Cup team, Jones stayed cool and unsupportive. Bobby realized he was still completely on his own. He went about winning. From the time he was rejected for Davis Cup in mid-1937 and the time he nailed down the second singles slot in August 1938, he used tournaments to take out his rivals for that second spot in pretty convincing fashion: Frank Parker, 4-0; Joe Hunt, 6-1[1]; Mako 2-0; Bitsy Grant, 1-1.[2]

He could not beat Budge, but he went 1-1 versus Gottfried Cramm in 1937, with Cramm winning the more important match, the semifinals at the United States Championships. And, with Budge abroad much of 1938, and playing a limited tournament schedule,

Riggs racked up 14 titles. He helped at the Davis Cup – Don Budge’s Davis Cup – by getting the U.S. off to a good start in winning the first singles match. But he lost the “dead rubber,” the unnecessary fifth match after his team had already clinched the Cup.[3]

In Bobby’s mind, it had taken popular pressure from the fans to secure his place as the Davis Cup number-two singles player. Regardless, he had done it . . . and now even bigger things awaited.[4] With Budge gone pro and Cramm not permitted to compete at the Majors, Riggs won both Wimbledon and the United States Championships. At Wimbledon he won the crown in singles, doubles and mixed doubles, an extremely rare feat. (There is conflicting historical evidence as to whether there is truth to the legend that he made a financial killing by placing a bet with London bookmakers that he would achieve this unprecedented trifecta, but on balance it seems fairly likely). He also made it to the finals at Roland Garros. You would have thought the slow clay would be a big advantage to the Riggs game, but he lost badly to a serve-volleyer Don McNeil — not for the last time.




[1] Hunt most likely would be an Honorable Mention among the 100 greatest but for his death as a Navy pilot in a test flight.

[2] tennisarchives.com for these tallies.

[3] He is hardly the only top player to have lost a “dead rubber.” Nowadays, the very top players take a pass on a “meaningless” Davis Cup match and let a teammate play instead.
 
Riggs was the world amateur No. 1. But three things took the luster off the achievement: (1) fan, press and tennis officialdom indifference, (2) the beginning of World War II for Europe and many other important nations, and (3) losing at Davis Cup. Readers know WWII began Sept 1, 1939, so I will mention the other two factors.

As to fan indifference, that is a relative thing. Compared to the power and majesty of the Budge game, Bobby’s still-largely “defensive” game seemed a letdown. The fans had loved Bobby as an underdog, but were not as enthusiastic about him as a World Champion. LeCompte says fan sentiment was decidely in favor of serve-volleyer Welby Van Horn at the final of the U.S. Championships

Still, playing cool, deeply strategic tennis certainly helps a lot. Riggs is somewhat like Lacoste, and therefore a rarity among the greats. Unlike most champions, theirs is a more conservative approach. But what some mistake as “defensive” tennis, Lacoste might liken to playing a chess match. Riggs dubbed it “Airtight Tennis.” This meant you don’t make any mistakes – or more literally, your objective is more to avoid errors than to go for winners. In truth, not very many players have become important champions with this kind of game. After The Crocodile and Riggs, it is not so easy to find conservative tacticians among the top-50. The earlier Mats Wilander is perhaps the closest modern comparator. A defensive player used to be able win the French Open, maybe one-fifth of the time. That has not happened since 2004, and looks unlikely to ever happen again. The only contemporary “largely defensive” player to even make Honorable Mention is David Ferrer. And Ferrer never won a Major and made only one final.

But Riggs was not primarily “defensive” although he was mistaken at times for that. As Pancho Segura put it, “He was always two shots ahead of you, setting up the next shot and the next.” [1]. That ain’t defensive tennis.

All the “Kramer crowd” loves this guy. I think it is because he was their buddy and a real character in the history of the game. But let’s let them tell it.

“What did Riggs have?” asked Vines. “It wasn’t so much what he had as that he lacked nothing. He was an almost errorless tennis player, with nothing that approximated a weakness . . . Riggs’ forehand was absolutely correct in every particular. It had the least wrist of all big forehands. Because of the lack of wrist his accuracy was fantastic in depth and direction . . . he had a rather short backswing which helped his disguises, and he got his accuracy from perfect timing . . . When his opponent attacked he could skim the net on a passing shot, and that locked wrist and very slight overspin would put the ball just where he wanted it. With the same action he could lift lobs, which were just deep forehands to him . . . He had developed a first serve that appeared to be going long, then would dip and catch the service line.”[2] Kramer said his second serve was even better, ranking it with those of Cramm, Gonzalez and Newcombe, in other words, equal to the very best in history.

Kramer was much more effusive than Vines: He claimed Riggs would have beaten Gonzalez, Laver, Rosewall and Hoad, and possibly Vines. He called him the most underrated champion in history. “He could pin you back by hitting long, down the lines, and then he’d run you ragged with chips and drop shots. He was outstanding with a volley from either side, and he could lob as well as any man . . . He could also lob on the run, He could disguise, and he could hit winning overheads. They weren’t powerful, but they were always on target.[3]

Reading Kramer’s book, The Game, which was published in the late 1970’s, it appears he actually places Riggs in the top six. At about the same time, Vines ranked Riggs in the top-10 of modern history.

And it wasn’t just Kramer and Vines. The International Hall of Fame included Riggs as one of the 10 best pre-Open players in history, in its film Kings of the Court. And even Rod Laver, who had no personal or generational pull towards Riggs (but perhaps influenced from the inherited “wisdom” of Jack Kramer and Co.), ranked Bobby eighth on his list of best 10 player of the pre-Borg/Connors era.

Kramer solved the Riggs problem by developing a high-kicking serve to Riggs’ backhand. Riggs had to gamble off Kramer’s serve and slugging was not his game. As he fell farther behind in thier championship tour he became demoralized. Down just 15-16 at one point, Riggs lost 20-69. Kramer said that if a player is 10 percent better than another, he is likely to win not 10 percent more matches, but 50 percent, perhaps suggesting that he (Kramer) might have been just a little more than 10 percent better than Riggs.[4] It sounds more to me that in extolling Riggs, Jack Kramer was making himself look like a cross between Rod Laver and Don Budge.

But these comments by Kramer, Vines and Segura lend credence to Riggs’ biographer’s assertion that, “It was a popular misconception that Bobby was a retriever, a ‘pusher’ who merely kept the ball in play. Though not a power player . . . he was also a fine player on faster surfaces . . . His serve, while not as powerful as that of many players, was deadly accurate, and he could place it well enough or put enough spin on the ball to befuddle an opponent. He was fast on his feet and had superb anticipation. He found ways to control bigger, more powerful opponents. He could pin a player back by hitting long, deep shots down the line, run them ragged with short, angled chips and drop shots, or pass them at the net at will.” [5]

The greatest compliment to Bobby may be from Segura, who, unlike Kramer, had no special motivation to build up Riggs. According to Segura, more than any player, “Bobby could make the ball talk.”[6]



[1] LeCompte, Tom, The Last Sure Thing, 2003 Skunkworks Publishing Easthampton MA, p. 94.

[2] Vines and Vier, pp. 75-76

[3] Kramer and Deford, pp. 160-61

[4] Id., p. 162

[5] LeCompte, supra, p. 94.

[6] Id.
 
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Riggs probably lost the No. 1 distinction in 1940, although no world top-10 was discussed during the war years. As it was, Riggs might not have been the top American in 1940, or so the USLTA saw it. Don McNeil, a name lost to history, beat Riggs in both the United States Championships, on grass, and the U.S. Clay Court Championships. Riggs beat McNeil in five-set finals at the Pacific Southwest and the U.S. Indoor.

Riggs was also something of a Davis Cup failure. He was 2-2 in D.C. rubbers, losing a key match to Australian stalwart Adrian Quist in the 1939 championship round, thrown off guard by Quist’s aggressive ground attack.

In 1940, Bobby dropped to No. 2 in the United States, according to the Association. And the U.S. essentially was the only tennis game in town, on the planet. Bobby won by far the most tournaments that year[1], but lost the big one, the final of the United States Championships. He was bested by McNeil, in a five-set match considered at the time to be one of the better U.S. finals ever, with Bobby coming back from an 0-2 deficit to force the fifth set. According to the match results at tennisarchives.com, Riggs and McNeil were 3-3 for 1940.

His demotion to American No. 2, seems, in retrospect, another example of Bobby being underestimated. He merely won 14 tournaments in 1940, on a most impressive 101-9 record, according to thetennisbase.com. These were all world-class tournaments or better, and included six prestige-or-better titles, four of which can be considered as loose equivalents of the Masters 1000s.[2]

Bobby gained admiration for the comeback against McNeil, and also for the class he showed as the unexpected loser. But the defeat quashed his hopes of turning pro with a $25,000 guaranteed contract.

The 1941 U.S. final was, therefore, a make-or-break moment for his tennis ambitions. He played the tournament with an uncharacteristic severity, to paraphrase LeCompete. He even refrained from his habitual late-night, high-stakes poker games.

His finals opponent was the unimaginably gifted, but utterly absurd Frank Kovacs.[3] Kovacs remains among the greatest shotmakers the game has seen. Don Budge said that when Kovacs put aside “the horseplay,” “There’s nobody he can’t beat,” including , Budge meant, Don Budge. Between January and July, Kovacs beat Riggs four straight times.[4] However, Riggs beat Kovacs twice in the run-ups to Forest Hills, in a thrilling five-set come-from-behind triumph at Seabright, and a resounding 6-2, 6-2, 6-3 win in the final at Southhampton.


[1] According to LeCompete. The information at tennisarchives.com shows Riggs winning 10 of 17 tournaments.

[2] Pacific Coast Championships; Pacific Southwest Championships, Eastern Grass Court Championships, Seabright, River Oaks and the U.S. National Indoor Championship. River Oaks barely misses the cut as a M 1000 equivalent, and Seabright would be like a particularly strong M500. His Fox River Valley title is also considered a near-prestige garland.

[3] Kovacs once slipped Riggs a Mickey Finn to make him ill the night before their finals match at the U.S. Indoor Championships. LeCompete, p. 150, quoting Gardner Mulloy that Kovacs admitted this.

[4] LeCompete reports the four straight losses. tennisarchives.com, usually incomplete, shows three straight Kovacs wins.
 
Bobby, of course was a masterful court manager. Tilden may have ranked him second best of all players he saw in his life in “match temperament” and “tactician.”[1] But Kovacs rattled Booby with his outrageous behavior before and during their matches. Kovacs’ antics (and worse) would seem unbelievable if we had not seen Ilie Nastase.

Fortunately, these incidents occurred prior to the Forest Hills final. Bobby was ready for anything, and he had a few stratagems of his own ready. Despite Bobby’s good history of winning big tournaments and being the recent former champion and reigning Wimbledon champ, he was a 2-1 underdog going into the final. He lost the first set. As LeCompete describes it, Riggs then started to throw off Kovacs’ game by constantly mixing things up, hitting hard out, then immediately hitting a floater, and so on. Bobby’s strokes were on and he went for difficult winners and got them. He also charged the net with success.

Up two sets to one, Bobby repaid Frank Kovacs for all his unsportsmanlike conduct. Remember in those days there was a 10-minute break at the end of the third set. Riggs was worried about about giving Kovacs a chance to regroup mentally. Players at that time (and for decades to come) generally did not have a coach, much less coaches in the sense we know it today. But Kovacs did. Riggs was concerned that Frank’s coach would be able to calm down his high-strung, and presently very frustrated, opponent. A focused Frank Kovacs would be tough to put away. So Bobby used some reverse psychology and told “Frankie” he looked exhausted and suggest Frankie would like to lie down for awhile. Kovacs, already upset, fell for it. He tempestuously denied being tired and demanded that play continue immediately. and Bobby closed out the match, 5-7, 6-1, 6-3, 6-3.

The victory initially seemed to be of no help in unlocking the door to a good pro contract. Fortunately, Budge wanted a four-man, round-robin tour, to include Fred Perry, and found backing for the venture. Bobby got the $25,000 guarantee he wanted. But again he was undervalued. Frank Kovacs, who never did, and never would, win a Major title, was given the exact same guarantee.

Somewhat surprisingly, in that 1942 tour, Bobby achieved a 10-15 record against Budge at his peak. His varied game may have given Don trouble at times. Ray Bowers writes of one fine match, on March 1, 1942, where Bobby slugged it out for a set with Budge, the two exchanging “withering backhand cross-courts.” Riggs won that power set, then switch to defensive play, at which “he has no equal. Riggs also on occasion showed excellence in attacking the net – sometimes a useful reply to Budge’s strength off the ground.” Riggs, Bowers said, was showing more determination as a pro than he had as an amateur.[2]

But when it came down to the match that really mattered, the 1942 U.S. Pro final, it was no contest. “Budge had seldom played better, staying with the relentless ground-stroke power and occasional net attack familiar to long-time Budge-watchers. Bobby answered with all his tactical variety, but the heaviness of Budge’s artillery was too much to withstand. The three sets were over in one hour. Budge had never been mightier.” [3]

No contest. Just as it probably would have been no contest at the 1939 Wimbledon had Gottfried von Cramm been allowed to participate. Riggs was completely schooled by the Baron, 6-0, 6-1, in the match at Queen’s Club that tennis journalists christened “The Amateur Championship of the World” of 1939. In that case, without the luster of Wimbledon, where, despite his overwhelming match record between 1936-41, would Riggs have been? Of course, you-can-only-beat-whom-you-face. But the fact that the Queen’s Club match was imbued was such significance by the press, meant Bobby Riggs knew the heavy implications of a loss to Cramm there.

In early 1943, Riggs was drafted into the Navy.


[1] See https://www.newspapers.com/newspage/74169885

[2] Bowers, Chapter XII: America, 1942

[3] Id.
 
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