A tournament committee should never keep a player waiting for an important match to commence while they scour through the crowd for linesmen. These necessary, and I trust useful, accessories to every match of importance should be picked and on hand when the players appear. A good linesman is a great aid to match tennis. A poor one may ruin a great battle. Not only will bad decisions turn the tide by putting a point in the wrong columns, but slow decisions will often upset players, so they dare not play to the line kept by slumberous linesmen.

A linesman should take his first judgment as the ball strikes. If outside he should call "out" at once clearly, decisively, but not too loudly; a yell is often a shock to the nerves. If the ball is good he should remain discreetly silent.

The umpire should announce the score after each point in a voice sufficiently loud to be heard by the entire gallery. His decisions as to "lets" or balls "not up" should be made only loud enough to ensure that they are heard by the players. The gallery has eyes. Following each game, the game score should be called, giving the leading player's name and the set being played. For example, "Four games to three, Parke leads. Second set." About every third game following the completion of the first set, an announcement as to the winner of the first set is an excellent idea. The umpire could add to the above announcement, "First set, Parke, 6-3." This latter announcement is unnecessary when there is a score board that gives full details of the match.

Tournament committees should see that all courts have sufficient room behind the baseline and at the sides to insure a player against running into the stops.

Galleries should strive to retain their appreciation and enthusiasm until a point is completed, since noise is very disconcerting to a player. However, all players enjoy an enthusiastic gallery.

The players themselves must now be considered in relation to the reaction of the match.

The first thing to fix firmly in your mind in playing a match, is never to allow your opponent to play a shot he likes if it is possible to force him to make one he does not. Study your opponent both on and off the court. Look for a weakness, and, once finding it, pound it without mercy. Remember that you do not decide your mode of attack. It is decided for you by the weakness of your opponent. If he dislikes to meet a netman, go to the net. If he wants you at the net, stay back and force him to come in. If he attacks viciously, meet his attack with an equally strong offensive.

Remember that the strongest defence is to attack, for if the other man is occupied in meeting your attack, he will have less time to formulate his own system.

If you are playing a very steady man, do not strive to beat him at his own game. He is better at it than you in many cases, so go in and hit to win. On the other hand, if you find that your opponent is wild and prone to miss, play safe and reap the full crop of his errors. It saves you trouble and takes his confidence.

ABOVE ALL, NEVER CHANGE A WINNING GAME.

ALWAYS CHANGE A LOSING GAME, since, as you are getting beaten that way, you are no worse off and may be better with a new style.

The question of changing a losing game is a very serious thing. It is hard to say just when you are really beaten. If you feel you are playing well yet have lost the first set about 6-3 or 6-4, with the loss of only one service, you should not change. Your game is not really a losing game. It is simply a case of one break of service, and might well win the next set. If, however, you have dropped the first set in a 2 out of 3 match with but one or two games, now you are outclassed and should try something else.

Take chances when you are behind, never when ahead. Risks are only worth while when you have everything to win and nothing to lose. It may spell victory, and at least will not hasten defeat. Above all, never lose your nerve or confidence in a match. By so doing you have handed your opponent about two points a game—a rather hard handicap to beat at your best.

Never let your opponent know you are worried. Never show fatigue or pain if it is possible to avoid, since it will only give him confidence. Remember that he feels just as bad as you, and any sign of weakening on your part encourages him to go on. In other words, keep your teeth always in the match.

Don't worry. Don't fuss. Luck evens up in the long run, and to worry only upsets your own game without affecting your opponent. A smile wins a lot of points because it gives the impression of confidence on your part that shakes that of the other man. Fight all the time. The harder the strain the harder you should fight, but do it easily, happily, and enjoy it.

Match play, where both men are in the same class as tennis players, resolves itself into a battle of wits and nerve. The man who uses the first and retains the second is the ultimate victor.

I do not believe in a man who expects to go through a long tournament, going "all out" for every match. Conserve your strength and your finesse for the times you need them, and win your other matches decisively, but not destructively. Why should a great star discourage and dishearten a player several classes below him by crushing him, as he no doubt could? A few games a set, well earned, would be a big factor in encouraging that rising player to play in tournaments, while it would in no way injure the reputation of the star.

Never hurry your opponent by serving before he is fully set to receive. This is a favourite trick of a few unscrupulous players, yet is really an unfair advantage. Do your hurrying after the ball is in play, by running him to unexpected places in the court. Should anyone attempt to work the hurried service on you, after several attempts, proving it is intentional, let the ball go by and say "not ready." The server will shortly realize that you will take your time regardless of him, and he will slow up.

I do not advocate stalling—nothing is worse. It is a breach of ethics that is wholly uncalled for. Play the game naturally, and give your opponent full courtesy in all matters. If you do, you will receive it in return.

Take every advantage of any and every weakness in your opponent's game; but never trespass on his rights as regards external advantages.

Personally I do not believe in "defaulting" a match. To "scratch" or "retire," as the term goes, is to cheat your opponent of his just triumph, and you should never do this unless it is absolutely impossible to avoid. Sickness or some equally important reason should be the sole cause of scratching, for you owe the tournament your presence once your entry is in.

Match play should stimulate a player. He should produce his best under the excitement of competition. Learn your shots in practice, but use them in matches.

Practice is played with the racquet, matches are won by the mind. J. C. Parke is a great match player, because he is not only a great player but a great student of men. He sizes up his opponent, and seizes every opening and turns it to his own account. Norman E. Brookes is the greatest match player the world has ever known, because he is ever ready to change his plan to meet the strategy of his opponent, and has both the variety of stroke and versatility of intellect to outguess the other the majority of times. Brookes is the greatest court general, and, in my opinion, the finest tennis intellect in the world. His mind is never so keen and he is never so dangerous as when he is trailing in an important match. He typifies all that is great in mental match tennis.

A great star is always at his best in a match, as it stimulates his mental and physical faculties to the utmost.

Certain players are more effective against some men than others who are not so good. It is the uncertainty of match tennis that is its greatest charm. Two men may meet for tennis during a season, and be so closely matched that each man will win two matches and the score seem almost one-sided each time. It is a case of getting the jump on the other player.

During 1919 Johnston and I met four times. Twice he defeated me, once in four sets, and once in three, while the two victories that were mine were scored in identically the same number of sets. The most remarkable meeting of two stars was the series of matches between R. L. Murray and Ichija Kumagae during the seasons of 1918 and 1919. In the early stages Murray had a decided advantage, winning from Kumagae consistently, but by close scores. Early in 1919 Kumagae unexpectedly defeated Murray at Buffalo in four sets. From that moment Kumagae held the whip hand. He defeated Murray at Niagara-on-the-Lake a week later. Murray barely nosed out the Japanese star at Cleveland in five sets after Kumagae had the match won, only to have Kumagae again defeat him in a terrific match at Newport in August.

Kumagae's game is very effective against Murray, because Murray, essentially a volleyer, could not exchange ground strokes with the Japanese star player successfully, and could not stand the terrific pace of rushing the net at every opportunity. Kumagae conclusively proved his slight superiority over Murray last season.

Vincent Richards, who is not yet the equal of Murray, scored two clean-cut victories over Kumagae during the same period. Why should Richards worry Kumagae, who is certainly Murray's superior, and yet not cause Murray trouble?

The answer lies in this style of game. Richards uses a peculiar chop stroke from the baseline that is very steady. He can meet Kumagae at his own baseline game until he gets a chance to close in to the net, where his volleying is remarkable. The result is, against Kumagae's driving he is perfectly at home. Murray is a vicious net player who swept Richards off his feet. The boy has not the speed on his ground strokes to pass Murray, who volleys off his chop for points, and cannot take the net away from him as he cannot handle the terrific speed of Murray's game. Thus Murray's speed beats Richards, while Richards' steadiness troubles Kumagae, yet Kumagae's persistent driving tires Murray and beats him. What good are comparative scores?

Charles S. Garland always defeats Howard Voshell, yet loses to men whom Voshell defeats. Williams proves a stumbling-block to Johnston, yet seldom does well against me.

The moral to be drawn from the ever-interesting upsets that occur every year, is that the style of your attack should be determined by the man's weakness you are playing. Suit your style to his weakness. A chop is the antidote for the drive. The volley is the answer to a chop, yet a drive is the only safe attack against a volley. The smash will kill a lob, yet a lob is the surest defence from a smash. Rather a complicated condition, but one which it would do well to think over.

The most dangerous enemy to R. N. Williams is a steady baseliner of second class. Williams is apt to crush a top-flight player in a burst of superlative terms, yet fall a victim to the erratic streak that is in him when some second-class player plays patball with him. Such defeats were his portion at the hands of Ritchie and Mavrogordato in England, yet on the same trip he scored notable victories over Parke and Johnston.

Abnormal conditions for match play always tend to affect the better player more than the poorer, and bring play to a level.

The reason for this is in the fact that the higher the standard of a player's game, the smaller his margin of error, the more perfect his bound must be, and any variation from the normal is apt to spell error. The average player allows himself more leeway, and unknowingly increases his chances on a bad court. His shot is not judged to the fraction of an inch in swing as is the top-flight player, so a slight variation does not affect him.

Many a great match has been ruined by abnormal conditions. Rain caused Williams' downfall to N. W. Niles in the 1917 American Championships. Rain and wind marred a great battle between Gobert and Johnston at Eastbourne in the Davis Cup in 1920.

The clever match player must always be willing to change his game to meet conditions. Failure to do so may spell defeat.

It is this uncertainty, due to external conditions, that makes comparative records so useless in judging the relative merits of two players you know nothing of. Rankings based on mathematical calculations of scores are absolutely useless and childish, unless tempered by common sense.

The question of the fitness of conditions of play can never be standardized. In America you play only if clear. In England sometimes when clear but more often in rain, judging by the events I swam through in my recent trip. A match player should not only be able to play tennis, but should combine the virtues of an aeroplane and a submarine as well.



CHAPTER VIII. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF PHYSICAL FITNESS

Physical fitness is one of the great essentials of match play. Keenness can only be acquired if the physical, mental, and nervous systems are in tune. Consistent and systematic training is essential to a tournament player.

Regular hours of sleep, and regular, hearty food at regular hours are necessary to keep the body at its highest efficiency. Food is particularly important. Eat well, but do not over-eat, particularly immediately before playing. I believe in a large hearty breakfast on the day of a big match. This should be taken by nine-thirty. A moderate lunch at about one o'clock if playing at three. Do not eat very rich food at luncheon as it tends to slow you up on the court. Do not run the risk of indigestion, which is the worst enemy to dear eyesight. Rich, heavy food immediately before retiring is bad, as it is apt to make you "loggy" on the court the next day.

It is certain injury to touch alcoholic drink in any form during tournament play. Alcohol is a poison that affects the eye, the mind, and the wind—three essentials in tennis. Tobacco in moderation does little harm, although it, too, hits eye and wind. A man who is facing a long season of tournament play should refrain from either alcohol or tobacco in any form. Excesses of any kind are bad for physical condition, and should not be chanced.

Late hours cause sluggishness of mind and body the next day. It is very dangerous to risk them before a hard match. The moving pictures immediately before playing tennis are bad, owing to the eye strain caused by the flicker of the film and the strong light of the camera. Lead a normal, healthy life, and conserve your nervous force wherever possible, as you will need it in the hard matches.

"Staleness" is the great enemy of players who play long seasons. It is a case of too much tennis. Staleness is seldom physical weariness. A player can always recover his strength by rest. Staleness is a mental fatigue due often to worry or too close attention to tennis, and not enough variety of thought. Its symptoms are a dislike for the tennis game and its surroundings, and a lack of interest in the match when you are on the court. I advocate a break in training at such a time. Go to the theatre or a concert, and get your mind completely off tennis. Do your worrying about tennis while you are playing it, and forget the unpleasantness of bad play once you are off the court. Always have some outside interest you can turn to for relaxation during a tournament; but never allow it to interfere with your tennis when you should be intent on your game. A nice balance is hard to achieve, but, once attained is a great aid to a tournament player. I find my relaxation in auction bridge. I know many other players who do likewise. Among them are Mrs. Franklin Mallory, Wallace F. Johnson, W. M. Johnston and Samuel Hardy.

The laws of training should be closely followed before and after a match. Do not get chilled before a match, as it makes you stiff and slow. Above all else do not stand around without a wrap after a match when you are hot or you will catch cold.

Many a player has acquired a touch of rheumatism from wasting time at the close of his match instead of getting his shower while still warm. That slight stiffness the next day may mean defeat. A serious chill may mean severe illness. Do not take chances.

Change your wet clothes to dry ones between matches if you are to play twice in a day. It will make you feel better, and also avoid the risk of cold.

Tournament players must sacrifice some pleasures for the sake of success. Training will win many a match for a man if he sticks to it. Spasmodic training is useless, and should never be attempted.

The condition a player is, in is apt to decide his mental viewpoint, and aid him in accustoming himself to the external conditions of play.

All match players should know a little about the phenomenon of crowd-psychology since, as in the case of the Church-Murray match I related some time back, the crowd may play an important part in the result.

It seldom pays to get a crowd down on you. It always pays to win its sympathy. I do not mean play to the gallery, for that will have the opposite effect than the one desired.

The gallery is always for the weaker player. It is a case of helping the "under-dog." If you are a consistent winner you must accustom yourself to having the gallery show partiality for your opponent. It is no personal dislike of you. It is merely a natural reaction in favour of the loser. Sometimes a bad decision to one play will win the crowd's sympathy for him. Galleries are eminently just in their desires, even though at times their emotions run away with them.

Quite aside from the effect on the gallery, I wish to state here that when you are the favoured one in a decision that you know is wrong, strive to equalize it if possible by unostentatiously losing the next point. Do not hit the ball over the back stop or into the bottom of the net with a jaunty air of "Here you are." Just hit it slightly out or in the net, and go on about your business in the regular way. Your opponent always knows when you extend him this justice, and he appreciates it, even though he does not expect it. Never do it for effect. It is extremely bad taste. Only do it when your sense of justice tells you you should.

The crowd objects, and justly so, to a display of real temper on the court. A player who loses his head must expect a poor reception from the gallery. Questioned decisions by a player only put him in a bad light with the crowd and cannot alter the point. You may know the call was wrong, but grin at it, and the crowd will join you. These things are the essence of good sportsmanship, and good sportsmanship will win any gallery. The most unattractive player in the world will win the respect and admiration of a crowd by a display of real sportsmanship at the time of test.

Any player who really enjoys a match for the game's sake will always be a fine sportsman, for there is no amusement to a match that does not give your opponent his every right. A player who plays for the joy of the game wins the crowd the first time he steps on the court. All the world loves an optimist.

The more tennis I play, the more I appreciate my sense of humour. I seldom play a match when I do not get a smile out of some remark from the gallery, while I know that the gallery always enjoys at least one hearty laugh at my expense. I do not begrudge it them, for I know how very peculiar tennis players in general, and myself in particular, appear when struggling vainly to reach a shot hopelessly out of reach.

Two delightful elderly ladies were witnessing Charles S. Garland and myself struggle against Mavrogordato, and Riseley at the Edgbaston tournament in England in 1920. One turned to the other and said: "Those are the Americans!"

"Oh," said the second lady resignedly, "I thought so. The tall one [meaning me] looks rather queer."

During the Davis Cup match against the French at Eastbourne, I went on the court against Laurentz in my blue "woolly" sweater. The day was cold, and I played the match 4-1 in Laurentz' favour, still wearing it. I started to remove it at the beginning of the sixth game, when the gallery burst into loud applause, out of which floated a sweet feminine voice: "Good! Now maybe the poor boy will be able to play!"

For the first time I realized just what the gallery thought of my efforts to play tennis, and also of the handicap of the famous "blue-bearskin" as they termed it.

My favourite expression during my Davis Cup trip happened to be "Peach" for any particularly good shot by my opponent. The gallery at the Championship, quick to appreciate any mannerism of a player, and to, know him by it, enjoyed the remark on many occasions as the ball went floating by me. In my match with Kingscote in the final set, the court was very slippery owing to the heavy drizzle that had been falling throughout the match. At 3-2 in my favour, I essayed a journey to the net, only to have Kingscote pass me 'cross court to my backhand. I turned and started rapidly for the shot murmuring "Peach" as I went. Suddenly my feet went out and I rolled over on the ground, sliding some distance, mainly on my face. I arose, dripping, just in time to hear, sotto voce, in the gallery at my side: "A little bit crushed, that Peach." The sense of humour of the speaker was delightful. The whole side-line howled with joy, and the joke was on me.

I am always the goat for the gallery in these little jokes, because it is seldom I can refrain from saying something loud enough to be heard.

I remember an incident that caused great joy to a large gallery in Philadelphia during a match between two prominent local players. One of the men had been charging the net and volleying consistently off the frame of his racquet, giving a wonderful display of that remarkable shot known the world over as "the mahogany volley." His luck was phenomenal for all his mis-hit volleys won him points. Finally, at the end of a bitterly contested deuce game in the last set he again won the deciding point with a volley off the wood, just as a small insect flew in his eye.

He called to his opponent: "Just a moment, I have a fly in my eye."

The disgusted opponent looked up and muttered: "Fly? Huh! I'll bet it's a splinter!"

There was a certain young player who was notoriously lax in his eyesight on decisions. He could never see one against himself. He became noted in his own locality. He and another boy were playing a team of brothers who were quite famous in the tennis world. One of these brothers had a very severe service that the local Captain Kidd could not handle at all. So each time the visiting player served close to the line, the boy would swing at it, miss it, and call "Fault!" There was no umpire available and there was no question of the older team losing, so they let it go for some time. Finally a service fully 3 feet in was casually called out by the youngster. This proved too much for the server, who hailed his brother at the net with the query: "What was wrong that time?"

"I don't know," came the reply; "unless he called a footfault on you!"

The assurance of some young players is remarkable. They know far more about the game of other men than the men themselves. I once travelled to a tournament with a boy who casually seated himself beside me in the train and, seeing my tennis bag, opened the conversation on tennis and tennis players. He finally turned his attention to various people I knew well, and suddenly burst out with: "Tilden is a chop-stroke player. I know him well." I let him talk for about ten minutes, learning things about my game that I never knew before. Finally I asked his name, which he told me. In reply he asked mine. The last view I had of him for some time was a hasty retreat through the door of the car for air.

I played my first match against J. C. Parke at Wimbledon in 1920. The time before that I had been on the court with him was at Germantown Cricket Club in 1911, when I acted as ball-boy in the Davis Cup between him and W. A. Larned. The Junior members of the club, sons of the members, used to consider it a great honour to act as ball-boy in these matches, and worked every means to be picked. I picked up much tennis in those days, for I have worked at the ball-boy position for Parke, Crawley, Dixon, Larned, Wright, and Ward.



CHAPTER IX. THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SINGLES AND DOUBLES

Singles, the greatest strain in tennis, is the game for two players. It is in this phase of the game that the personal equation reaches its crest of importance. This is the game of individual effort, mental and physical.

A hard 5-set singles match is the greatest strain on the body and nervous system of any form of sport. Richard Harte and L. C. Wister, the former a famous Harvard University football and baseball player, the latter a football star at Princeton, both of whom are famous tennis players, have told me that a close 5-set tennis match was far more wearing on them than the biggest football game they had ever played.

Singles is a game of daring, dash, speed of foot and stroke. It is a game of chance far more than doubles. Since you have no partner dependent upon you, you can afford to risk error for the possibility of speedy victory. Much of what I wrote under match play is more for singles than doubles, yet let me call your attention to certain peculiarities of singles from the standpoint of the spectator.

A gallery enjoys personalities far more than styles. Singles brings two people into close and active relations that show the idiosyncrasies of each player far more acutely than doubles. The spectator is in the position of a man watching an insect under a microscope. He can analyse the inner workings.

The freedom of restraint felt on a single court is in marked contrast to the need for team work in doubles. Go out for your shot in singles whenever there is a reasonable chance of getting it. Hit harder at all times in singles than in doubles, for you have more chance of scoring and can take more risk.

Few great singles, players are famous in doubles. Notable exceptions to the above statement come to mind at once in the persons of the Dohertys, Norman E. Brookes, and F. B. Alexander. Yet who could accuse W. M. Johnston, R. N. Williams (notwithstanding his World's Championship doubles title), Andre Gobert, the late Anthony F. Wilding, M. E. M'Loughlin, or Gerald Patterson of playing great doubles? All these men are wonderful singles players, playing singles on a double court alongside some suffering partner. The daring that makes for a great singles player is an eternal appeal to a gallery. None of the notable doubles players, who have little or no claim to singles fame, have enjoyed the hero-worship accorded the famous singles stars. H. Roper-Barrett, Stanley Doust, Harold H. Hackett, Samuel Hardy, and Holcombe Ward, all doubles players of the very highest order, were, and are, well liked and deservedly popular, but are not idolized as were M'Loughlin or Wilding.

Singles is a game of the imagination, doubles a science of exact angles.

Doubles is four-handed tennis. Enough of this primary reader definition. I only used that so as not to be accused of trying to write over the heads of the uninitiated.

It is just as vital to play to your partner in tennis as in bridge. Every time you make a stroke you must do it with a definite plan to avoid putting your partner in trouble. The keynote of doubles success is team work; not individual brilliancy. There is a certain type of team work dependent wholly upon individual brilliancy. Where both players are in the same class, a team is as strong as its weakest player at any given time, for here it is even team work with an equal division of the court that should be the method of play. In the case of one strong player and one weaker player, the team is as good as the strong player can make it by protecting and defending the weaker. This pair should develop its team work on the individual brilliancy of the stronger man.

The first essential of doubles play is to PUT the ball in play. A double fault is bad in singles, but it is inexcusable in doubles. The return of service should be certain. After that it should be low and to the server coming in. Do not strive for clean aces in doubles until you have the opening. Remember that to pass two men is a difficult task.

Always attack in doubles. The net is the only place in the court to play the doubles game, and you should always strive to attain the net position. There are two formations for the receiving team: one is the Australian formation with the receiver's partner standing in to volley the server's return volley; the other is the English and American style with both men back, thus giving the net attack to the server. This is safer, but less likely to produce a winning result unless the team is a wonderful lobbing combination. Lobbing is a sound defence in doubles, and is used to open the court.

I believe in always trying for the kill when you see a real opening. "Poach" (go for a shot which is not really on your side of the court) whenever you see a chance to score. Never poach unless you go for the kill. It is a win or nothing shot since it opens your whole court. If you are missing badly do not poach, as it is very disconcerting to your partner.

The question of covering a doubles court should not be a serious one. With all men striving to attain the net all the time every shot should be built up with that idea. Volley and smash whenever possible, and only retreat when absolutely necessary.

When the ball goes toward the side-line the net player on that side goes in close and toward the line. His partner falls slightly back and to the centre of the court, thus covering the shot between the men. If the next return goes to the other side, the two men reverse positions. The theory of court covering is two sides of a triangle, with the angle in the centre and the two sides running to the side-lines and in the direction of the net.

Each man should cover overhead balls over his own head, and hit them in the air whenever possible, since to allow them to drop gives the net to the other team. The only time for the partner to protect the overhead is when the net man "poaches," is outguessed, and the ball tossed over his head. Then the server covers and strives for a kill at once.

Always be ready to protect your partner, but do not take shots over his head unless he calls for you to, or you see a certain kill. Then say "Mine," step in and hit decisively. The matter of overhead balls, crossing under them, and such incidentals of team work are matters of personal opinion, and should be arranged by each team according to their joint views. I only offer general rules that can be modified to meet the wishes of the individuals.

Use the lob as a defence, and to give time to extricate yourself and your partner from a bad position. The value of service in doubles cannot be too strongly emphasized since it gives the net to the server. Service should always be held. To lose service is an unpardonable sin in first-class doubles. All shots in doubles should be low or very high. Do not hit shoulder-high as it is too easy to kill. Volley down and hard if possible. Every shot you make should be made with a definite idea of opening the court.

Hit down the centre to disrupt the team work of the opposing team; but hit to the side-lines for your aces.

Pick one man, preferably the weaker of your opponents, and centre your attack on him and keep it there. Pound him unmercifully, and in time he should crack under the attack. It is very foolish to alternate attack, since it simply puts both men on their game and tires neither.

If your partner starts badly play safely and surely until he rounds to form. Never show annoyance with your partner. Do not scold him. He is doing the best he can, and fighting with him does no good. Encourage him at all times and don't worry. A team that is fighting among themselves has little time left to play tennis, and after all tennis is the main object of doubles.

Offer suggestions to your partner at any time during a match; but do not insist on his following them, and do not get peevish if he doesn't. He simply does not agree with you, and he may be right. Who knows?

Every doubles team should have a leader to direct its play; but that leader must always be willing to drop leadership for any given point when his partner has the superior position. It is policy of attack not type of stroke that the leader should determine.

Pick a partner and stick to him. He should be a man you like and want to play with, and he should want to play with you. This will do away with much friction. His style should not be too nearly your own, since you double the faults without greatly increasing the virtues.

I am a great believer in a brilliant man teaming up with a steady player. Let your steady man keep the ball in play, and allow your brilliant man all the room he wants to "poach" and kill. Thus you get the best of both men.

Doubles is a game of finesse more than speed. The great doubles players, the Dohertys, Norman E. Brookes, the greatest in the world to-day, Roper Barrett, Beals Wright, and F. B. Alexander, are all men of subtle finesse rather than terrific speed.

It requires more than speed of shot to beat two men over a barrier 3 to 3 1/2 feet high with a distance of some 32 feet. It is angles, pace, and accuracy that should be the aim in a great doubles game. Resource, versatility, and subtlety, not speed, win doubles matches.



PART III: MODERN TENNIS AND ITS FUTURE

CHAPTER X. THE GROWTH OF THE MODERN GAME

Lawn tennis is the outgrowth of the old French game of the courts of the early Louis. It spread to England, where it gained a firm hold on public favour. The game divided; the original form being closely adhered to in the game known in America as "Court tennis," but which is called "Tennis" in England. Lawn tennis grew out of it.

The old style game was played over a net some 5 feet high, and the service was always from the same end, the players changing courts each game. It was more on the style of the present game of badminton or battledore and shuttlecock.

Gradually the desire for active play had its effect, in a lowered net and changed laws, and tennis, as we know it, grew into being. From its earliest period, which is deeply shrouded in mystery, came the terms of "love" for "nothing" and "deuce" for "40-all." What they meant originally, or how they gained their hold is unknown, but the terms are a tradition of the game and just as much a part of the scoring system as the "game" or "set" call.

In 1920 the Rules Committee of the American Tennis Association advocated a change in scoring that replaced love, 15, 30, 40 with the more comprehensive 1, 2, 3, 4. The real reason for the proposed change was the belief that the word "love" in tennis made the uninitiated consider the game effeminate and repelled possible supporters. The loyal adherents of the old customs of the game proved too strong, and defeated the proposed change in scoring by an overwhelming majority.

Personally, I think there is some slight claim to consideration for the removal of the word "love." It can do no good, and there are many substitutes for it. It can easily be eliminated without revolutionizing the whole scoring system. It is far easier to substitute the words "zero," "nothing," for "love" than cause such an upheaval as was proposed. In my opinion the best way to obviate the matter is to use the player's name in conjunction with the points won by him, when his opponent has none. If the first point is won by Williams, call the score "15, Williams" and, with his opponent scoring the next, the call would become "15-all."

If tennis loses one adherent, it could otherwise gain, simply by its retaining the word "love" in the score, I heartily advocate removing it. This removal was successfully accomplished in Chicago in 1919, with no confusion to players, umpires, or public.

However, returning from my little digression on the relative value of "love" and "nothing," let me continue my short history of the game. The playing of tennis sprang into public favour so quickly that in a comparatively short space of time it was universally played in England and France. The game was brought to America in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Its growth there in the past twenty-five years has been phenomenal. During the last half century tennis gained a firm foothold in all the colonies of the British Empire, and even found favour in the Orient, as is explained in another portion of this book.

Tennis fills many needs of mankind. It provides an outlet for physical energy, relaxation, mental stimulus, and healthful exercise. The moral tone is aided by tennis because the first law of tennis is that every player must be a good sportsman and inherently a gentleman.

Tennis was recognized by the Allied Governments as one of the most beneficial sports during the World War. Not only were the men in service encouraged to play whenever possible, but the Allied Governments lent official aid to the various service tournaments held in France following the signing of the Armistice. The importance of tennis in the eyes of the American Government may be gleaned from the fact that great numbers of hard courts were erected at the various big cantonments, and organized play offered to the soldiers.

Many of the leading players who were in training in America at the time of the National Championship, which was played solely to raise money for the Red Cross, were granted leave from their various stations to take part in the competition. Among the most notable were Wallace F. Johnson, Conrad B. Doyle, Harold Throckmorton, S. Howard Voshell, and myself, all of whom were granted leave of two weeks or a month. Captain R. N. Williams and Ensigns William M. Johnston and Maurice E. M'Loughlin, and many other stars, were overseas. Official recognition at such a time puts a stamp of approval on the game which goes far to justify its world-wide popularity.

The tennis world lost many of its best in that titanic struggle. The passing of so many from its ranks left gaps that will be hard to fill.

The gallant death of Anthony F. Wilding in Flanders cost the game one of its greatest players, and finest men. I had not the pleasure of knowing Wilding personally yet I, like all the tennis world, felt a sense of keen personal loss at his heroic passing. Wilding was a man whose sterling qualities gave even more to the game than his play, and tennis is better for his all too brief career.

America lost some of its finest manhood in the War, and tennis paid its toll. No player was a more likeable personality nor popular figure among the rising stars than John Plaffman, the young Harvard man who gave his life in Flanders fields. I cannot touch on the many heroes who made everlasting fame in a bigger game than that which they loved so well. Time is too short. It is sufficient to know that the tennis players of the world dropped their sport at the call of War, and played as well with death as ever they did on the tennis court.

The War is over, please God never to return, and the men are back from their marvellous task. The game of War is done, the games of Peace are again being played. Tennis suffered the world over from war's blight, but everywhere the game sprang up in renewed life at the close of hostilities. The season of 1919 was one of reconstruction after the devastation. New figures were standing in prominence where old stars were accustomed to be seen. The question on the lips of all the tennis players was whether the stars of pre-War days would return to their former greatness.

The Championship of the World for 1919 at Wimbledon was anxiously awaited. Who would stand forth as the shining light of that meeting? Gerald Patterson, the "Australian Hurricane," as the press called him, came through a notable field and successfully challenged Norman Brookes for the title. Gobert and Kingscote fell before him, and the press hailed him as a player of transcendent powers.

The Australian team of Brookes, Patterson, R. V. Thomas, and Randolph Lycett journeyed home to the Antipodes by way of America to compete in the American Championship. Meanwhile R. N. Williams, W. M. Johnston, and Maurice E. M'Loughlin were demobilized, and were again on the courts. The American Championships assumed an importance equal to that of the Wimbledon event.

The Australian team of Brookes and Patterson successfully challenged the American title-holders in doubles, Vincent Richards and myself, after defeating the best teams in America, including W. M. Johnston and C. J. Griffin, the former champions. Speculation was rife as to Patterson's ability to triumph in the Singles Championship, and public interest ran high.

The Singles Championship proved a notable triumph for W. M. Johnston, who won a decisive, clear-cut, and deserved victory from a field never equalled in the history of tennis. Johnston defeated Patterson in a marvellous 5-set struggle, while Brookes lost to me in four sets. M'Loughlin went down to Williams in a match that showed the famous Comet but a faint shadow of his former self. Williams was defeated in sequence sets by me. The final round found Johnston in miraculous form and complete master of the match from start to finish, and he defeated me in three sequence sets.

Immediately following the championship, the Australian-American team match took place. In this Brookes went down to defeat before Johnston in four close sets, while I succeeded in scoring another point by nosing out Patterson by the same score. Thus 1919 gave Johnston a clear claim to the title of the World's Premier Tennis Player. The whole season saw marked increase in tennis interest throughout the entire world.

I have gone into more detail concerning the season of 1919 than I otherwise would, to attempt to show the revival of the tennis game in the public interest, and why it is so.

The evolution of the tennis game is a natural logical one. There is a definite cycle of events that can be traced. The picture is clearest in America as the steps of advancements are more definitely defined. It is from America that I am going to analyse the growth of modern tennis.

The old saying, "Three generations from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves," may well be parodied to "Three decades from ground strokes to ground strokes." The game of tennis is one great circle that never quite closes. Progress will not allow a complete return to the old style. Yet the style, without the method of thirty years ago, is coming back in vogue. It is a polished, decorated version of the old type game. It is expanded and developed. History tells us that the civilization of the old Greeks and Romans held many so-called modern luxuries, but not the methods of acquiring them we have to-day. Just so with tennis; for the ground. stroke game was the style of the past, just as it will be the style of the future; but the modern method of making ground strokes is a very different thing from the one used by the old-time stars.

We are on the brink of the upheaval. The next few years will show results in the tennis game that were not thought of before the War. Tennis is becoming an organized sport, with skilled management. Modern methods, where efficiency is the watchword, is the new idea in tennis development.

Tennis is on the verge of the greatest increase in its history. Never before has tennis of all types been so universally played, nor by such great multitudes. Its drawing power is phenomenal, hundreds of thousands of people witnessing matches the world over, and played during the season of 1920.

There are more players of fame now before the public than at any previous time since tennis became established. The standard of play of the masses and quality of game of the stars have risen tremendously in the last decade. No less an authority than Norman E. Brookes, whose active playing days cover a period of twenty years, told me during the American Championships, last year at Forest Hills, that in his opinion the game in America had advanced fully "15" in ten years. He stated that he believed the leading players of to-day were the superior of the Larneds, Dohertys, and Pims of the past.

The most remarkable advance has been along the lines of junior play: the development of a large group of boys ranging in age from thirteen to eighteen, who will in time replace the Johnstons, Williams, and M'Loughlins of to-day.

American tennis has passed through a series, of revolutionary stages that have changed the complex of the game. English tennis has merely followed its natural development, unaffected by external influences or internal upheaval, so that the game today is a refined product of the game of twenty years ago. Refined but not vitalized. The World War alone placed its blight on the English game, and changed the even tenor of its way. Naturally the War had only a devastating effect. No good sprang from it. It is to the everlasting credit of the French and English that during those horrible four years of privation, suffering, and death the sports of the nations lived.

The true type of English tennis, from which American tennis has sprung, was the baseline driving game. It is still the same. Well-executed drives, hit leisurely and gracefully from the base- line, appealed to the temperament of the English people. They developed this style to a perfection well-nigh invincible to cope with from the same position. The English gave the tennis world its traditions, its Dohertys, and its Smiths.

Tennis development, just as tennis psychology, is largely a matter of geographical distribution. This is so well recognized now in America that the country is divided in various geographic districts by the national association, and sectional associations carry on the development of their locality under the supervision of the national body.

Naturally new countries, with different customs, would not develop along the same lines as England. America, Australia, and South Africa took the English style, and began their tennis career on the baseline game. Each of these has since had a distinct yet similar growth—a variance to the original style. American tennis followed the English baseline style through a period that developed Dr. Dwight, R. D. Sears, Henry Slocum, and other stars. Tennis, during this time, was gaining a firm hold among the boys and young men who found the deep-driving game devoid of the excitement they desired. Americans always enjoy experiments, so the rising players tried coming to the net at any reasonable opening. Gradually this plan became popular, until Dwight Davis and Holcombe Ward surprised the tennis world with their new service, now the American twist, and used it as an opening gun in a net attack.

This new system gave us besides Davis and Ward, the Wrenn brothers, George and Robert, Malcolm Whitman, M. G. Chace, and finally Beals C. Wright. The baseline game had its firm adherents who followed it loyally, and it reached its crest in the person of William A. Larned. Previous to this time, speed, cyclonic hitting and furious smashing were unknown, although rumours of some player named M'Loughlin combining these qualities were floating East from the Pacific Coast. Not much stock was taken in this phenomenon until 1908, when Maurice Evans M'Loughlin burst upon the tennis world with a flash of brilliancy that earned him his popular nickname, "The California Comet."

M'Loughlin was the turning-point in American tennis. He made a lasting impression on the game that can never be erased. His personality gained him a following and fame, both in America and England, that have seldom been equalled in the sporting world.

M'Loughlin was the disciple of speed. Cyclonic, dynamic energy, embodied in a fiery-headed boy, transformed tennis to a game of brawn as well as brains. America went crazy over "Red Mac," and all the rising young players sought to emulate his game. No man has brought a more striking personality, or more generous sportsmanship, into tennis than M'Loughlin. The game owes him a great personal debt; but this very personal charm that was his made many players strive to copy his style and methods, which unfortunately were not fundamentally of the best. M'Loughlin was a unique tennis player. His whole game was built up on service and overhead. His ground strokes were very faulty. By his personal popularity M'Loughlin dwarfed the importance of ground strokes, and unduly emphasized the importance of service. M'Loughlin gave us speed, dash, and verve in our tennis. It remained for R. N. Williams and W. M. Johnston to restore the balance of the modern game by solving the riddle of the Californian's service. Brookes and Wilding led the way by first meeting the ball as it came off the ground. Yet neither of these two wizards of the court successfully handled M'Loughlin's service as did Williams and Johnston.

M'Loughlin swept Brookes and Wilding into the discard on those memorable days in 1914, when the dynamic game of the fiery-headed Californian rose to heights it had never attained previously, and he defeated both men in the Davis Cup. Less than one month later Williams, playing as only Williams can, annihilated that mighty delivery and crushed M'Loughlin in the final of the National Championship. It was the beginning of the end for M'Loughlin, for once his attack was repulsed he had no sound defence to fall back on.

Williams and then Johnston triumphed by the wonderful ground strokes that held back M'Loughlin's attack.

To-day we are still in the period of service and net attack, with the cycle closing toward the ground- stroke game. Yet the circle will never close, for the net game is the final word in attack, and only attack will succeed. The evolution means that the ground stroke is again established as the only modern defence against the net player.

Modern tennis should be an attacking service, not necessarily epoch-making, as was M'Loughlin's, but powerfully offensive, with the main portion of the play from the baseline in sparring for openings to advance to the net. Once the opening is made the advance should follow quickly, and the point ended by a decisive kill. That is the modern American game. It is the game of Australia as typified by Patterson schooled under the Brookes tutelage. It is the game of France, played by Gobert, Laurentz, and Brugnon. It has spread to South Africa, and is used by Winslow, Norton, and Raymond. Japan sees its possibilities, and Kumagae and Shimidzu are even now learning the net attack to combine with the baseline game. England alone remains obstinate in her loyalty to her old standby, and even there signs of the joint attack are found in the game of Kingscote.

Tennis has spread so rapidly that the old idea of class and class game has passed away with so many other ancient, yet snobbish, traditions. Tennis is universally played. The need of proper development of the game became so great in America that the American Lawn Tennis Association organized, in 1917, a system of developing the boys under eighteen years of age all over the United States.

The fundamental idea in the system, which had its origin in the able brain of Julian S. Myrick, President of the United States Lawn Tennis Association, was to arouse and sustain interest in the various sections by dealing with local conditions. This was successfully done through a system of local open tournaments, that qualified boys to a sectional championship. These sectional championships in turn qualified the winners for the National junior Championship, which is held annually in conjunction with the men's event at Forest Hills.

The success of the system has been stupendous. The growth of tennis in certain localities has been phenomenal. In Philadelphia alone over 500 boys compete in sanctioned play annually, while the city ranking for 1919 contained the names of 88 boys under eighteen, and 30 under fifteen, all of whom had competed in at least three sanctioned events. The school leagues of the city hold a schedule of 726 individual matches a year. The success of the Philadelphia junior system is due to the many large clubs who give the use of their courts and the balls for an open tournament. Among these clubs are Germantown Cricket Club, Cynwyd Club, Philadelphia Cricket, Overbrook Golf Club, Belfield Country Club, Stenton A. C., Green Point Tennis Clubs and at times Merion Cricket Club. The movement has been fostered and built up by the efforts of a small group of men, the most important of whom is Paul W. Gibbons, President of the Philadelphia Tennis Association, together with Wm. H. Connell of Germantown, the late Hosmer W. Hanna of Stenton, whose untiring efforts aided greatly in obtaining a real start, Dr. Chuton A. Strong, President of the Interscholastic League, Albert L. Hoskins, for years Vice-President of the U.S.L.T.A., and others. This plan brought great results. It developed such players as Rodney M. Beck, H. F. Domkin, G. B. Pfingst, Carl Fischer, the most promising boy in the city, who has graduated from the junior age limit, and Charles Watson (third), who, in 1920, is the Philadelphia junior Champion, and one of the most remarkable players for a boy of sixteen I have ever seen.

New York City was fortunate in having F. B. Alexander, the famous Internationalist, to handle the junior tennis there. He, together with Julian S. Myrick, and several other men, built up a series of tournaments around New York that produced some remarkable young players. It is largely due to the junior system that Vincent Richards has become the marvellous player that he is, at such an early age. Second only to Richards, and but a shade behind, are Harold Taylor and Cecil Donaldson, who have just passed out of the junior age limit. Charles Wood, the Indoor Boys Champion, is a remarkable youngster.

In New England, particularly in Providence, through the efforts of J. D. E. Jones, junior tennis is rapidly assuming an important place, and many young stars who will be heard of in the future are coming to the fore. By a strange coincidence the list is headed by the two sons of Jones. They seem to have inherited their father's ability. Arnold W. Jones, the National Boy Champion, is a player of marked ability, with a fine all-around game. Following closely on his heels come J. D. E. Jones, Jr., and Wm. W. Ingraham. From the South one finds John E. Howard. Around Chicago a group of men, led by Samuel Hardy, captain of the 1920 Davis Cup team, and assisted by R. T. Van Arsdale, built up a magnificent system of tournaments and coaching. Hardy left Chicago and came to New York in 1919; but the work which he so ably organized will continue under the supervision of the Western Association. The leading juniors developed in Chicago were Lucian Williams and the Weber brothers, James and Jerry.

From the Pacific Coast, the pioneer in junior development, wonderful boys are continually coming East. A boy's tennis game matures early in California. M'Loughlin was about eighteen when he first came East; Johnston less than twenty-one when he won the national title the first time; Marvin Griffin and Morgan Fottrell are in 1920 the leading youngsters in California.

The success of the Californians is due largely to the efforts of Dr. Sumner Hardy, brother of Samuel Hardy, and one of the most remarkable figures in the tennis world. Dr. Hardy practically carries the California Association single handed. He is a big factor in American tennis success.

From up in Washington State, a fine young player, Marshall Allen, has come to the fore.

Charles S. Garland, the Davis Cup star, is a former junior Champion of America, and a product of the junior system in Pittsburg, which is so ably handled by his father, Charles Garland. Other young stars developing include George Moreland and Leonard Reed.

Most of the foregoing is irrelevant, I suppose, but I have gone into detail because I want to prove that America has gone into the matter of junior developments, carefully, systematically, and has produced results.

It has been proved conclusively that it is in the schools that the most favourable progress could be made. Once tennis is placed on the basis of importance it deserves, the boys will take it up. At present there is a tendency to discount tennis and golf in school. This is a big mistake, as these two games are the only ones that a man can play regularly after he leaves college and enters, into business. The school can keep a sport alive. It is schools that kept cricket alive in England, and lack of scholastic support that killed it in America. The future of tennis in England, France, Australia, Japan, etc., rests in the hands of the boys. If the game is to grow, tennis must be encouraged among the youngsters and played in the schools.

England is faced with a serious problem. Eton and Harrow, the two big schools, are firm set against tennis. The other institutions naturally follow in the lead of these famous schools. The younger generation is growing up with little or no knowledge of tennis. One thing that forcibly bore in on my mind, during my trip in 1920, was the complete absence of boys of all ages at the various tournaments. In America youngsters from ten years of age up swarm all over the grounds at big tennis events. I saw very few of either at Queen's Club, Wimbledon, Eastbourne, or Edgbaston where I played. The boys do not understand tennis in England, and naturally do not care to play it.

The English Lawn Tennis Association is very desirous of building up tennis in the schools; but so far has not yet succeeded in breaking down the old prejudice. It is really a question of life or death with English tennis at this time. Major A. R. F. Kingscote, the youngest of the leading players in England, is older than any man in the American First ten, with the single exception of Walter T. Hayes. J. C. Parke has stated definitely that 1920 marked his retirement from the game. He is just under forty. Young players must be found to replace the waning stars. The danger is not immediate, for all the players who proved so good in 1920 seemed certain of several more years of first- class play; but what of the next ten years?

The future development of tennis is dependent largely upon the type of court that will become the standard. All big fixtures to-day are played on grass wherever possible. There is little question but that the grass game is the best. In the first place, it is the old-established custom, and should be maintained if possible. Secondly, the game is more skilful and more interesting on turf. Thirdly, grass is far easier on the eyes and feet of the players than any other surface.

There are drawbacks to grass courts. Grass cannot grow in all climates. The grass season opens late and closes early. The expense of upkeep is very great, and skilled groundsmen are required at all clubs that have grass courts.

The hard court of clay or dirt, cinder, en-tout-cas, or asphalt allows more continuous play and uniform conditions in more kinds of weather. The bound is truer and higher, but the light and surface are harder on the player. The balls wear light very rapidly, while racquets wear through quite soon.

The advantages are a much longer season on hard courts, with less chance of weather interrupting important meetings. The courts require far less care in upkeep than grass.

What has been the actual tendency in the last decade? In America the hard courts erected have been approximately nine to one grass. America is rapidly become a hard-court country. France is entirely on a hard-court basis; there are no grass courts at all. Play in South Africa is entirely on hard courts. Australia and the British Isles have successfully repelled the hard-court invasion thus far, although during the past two years the number of hard courts put up in England has exceeded grass.

The en-tout-cas court of peculiar red surface is the most popular composition in England and the Continent.

There seems little doubt but that the hard court is the coming surface in the next decade. Grass will continue to be used for the most important events, but the great majority of the tennis played, exclusive of the championships, will be on hard courts.

The result on the game will be one of increasing the value of the ground stroke and partially cutting down the net attack, since the surface of a hard court is slippery and tends to make it hard to reach the net to volley. Thus the natural attack will become a drive and not a volley. Hard-court play speeds up the ground strokes, and makes the game more orthodox.

The installation of hard courts universally should spread tennis rapidly, since it will afford more chance to play over a longer period. The growth of public courts in the parks and the municipal play grounds in America has been a big factor in the spread of the game's popularity. Formerly a man or boy had to belong to a club in order to have an opportunity to play tennis. Now all he needs is a racquet and balls, and he may play on a public court in his own city. This movement will spread, not only in America but throughout the world. England and France have some public courts; but their systems are not quite as well organized as the American.

The branch of tennis which England and France foster, and in which America is woefully lax, is the indoor game. Unfortunately the majority of the courts abroad have wood surfaces, true but lightning fast. The perfect indoor court should retain its true bound, but slow up the skid of the ball. The most successful surface I have ever played upon is battleship linoleum—the heavy covering used on men-of-war. This gives a true, slightly retarded bound, not unlike a very fast grass court.

Indoor play in America is sadly crippled by reason of no adequate facilities for play. The so-called National Indoor Championship is held at the Seventh Regiment Armoury in New York City on a wood floor, with such frightful lighting that it is impossible to play real tennis. The two covered courts at Longwood Club, Boston, are very fine, well lighted, with plenty of space. There is a magnificent court at Providence, and another at Buffalo. Utica boasts of another, while there are several fine courts, privately owned, on Long Island. New York City uses the big armouries for indoor play; but the surface and light in these are not fit for real tennis. The Brooklyn Heights Casino has the only adequate court in the Metropolitan district.

Philadelphia and Chicago, cities of enormous populations and great tennis interest, have no courts or facilities for indoor play. This condition must be rectified in America if we wish to keep our supremacy in the tennis world. The French players are remarkable on wood. Gobert is said to be the superior of any player in the world, when playing under good conditions indoors. The game of tennis is worthy of having all types of play within reach of its devotees. Why should a player drop his sport in October because the weather is cold? Indoor play during the winter means an improvement from season to season. Lack of it is practically stagnation or retrogression.

The future will see a growth of hard-court play the world over. Grass must fight to hold its position. Indoor play will come more and more into vogue.



CHAPTER XI. THE PROBABLE FUTURE OF THE GAME

What will be the outcome of the world-wide boom in tennis? Will the game change materially in the coming years? Time, alone, can answer; but with that rashness that seizes one when the opportunity to prophesy arrives and no one is at hand to cry "Hold, hold," I dare to submit my views on the coming years in international tennis.

I do not look to see a material change in the playing rules. A revival of the footfault fiend, who desires to handicap the server, is international in character and, like the poor, "always with us." The International Federation has practically adopted a footfault rule for 1921 that prohibits the server lifting one foot unless replaced behind the baseline. It is believed this will do away with the terrific services. The only effect I can see from it is to move the server back a few inches, or possibly a foot, while he delivers the same service and follows in with a little more speed of foot. It will not change the game at all. Sir Oliver Lodge, the eminent scientist, has joined the advocates of but one service per point. This seems so radical and in all so useless, since it entirely kills service as other than a mere formality, and puts it back where it was twenty-five years ago, that I doubt if even the weight of Sir Oliver Lodge's eminent opinion can put it over. To allow one service is to hand the game more fully into the receiver's hands than it now rests in the server's.

The playing rules are adequate in every way, and the perfect accord with which representatives of the various countries meet and play, happily, successfully, and what is more important, annually, is sufficient endorsement of the fundamental principles. The few slight variations of the different countries are easily learned and work no hardships on visiting players. Why change a known successful quantity for an unknown? It seldom pays.

The style of play is now approaching a type which I believe will prove to have a long life. To-day we are beginning to combine the various styles in one man. The champion of the future will necessarily need more equipment than the champion of to-day. The present shows us the forehand driving of Johnston, the service of Murray, the volleying of Richards, the chop of Wallace F. Johnson, the smash of Patterson, the half volley of Williams, and the back hand of Pell. The future will find the greatest players combining much of these games. It can be done if the player will study. I believe that every leading player in the world in 1950 will have a drive and a chop, fore- and backhand from the baseline. He will use at least two styles of service, since one will not suffice against the stroke of that period. He will be a volleyer who can safely advance to the net, yet his attack will be based on a ground game. He must smash well. In short, I believe that the key to future tennis success lies in variety of stroke. The day of the one-stroke player is passing. Each year sees the versatile game striding forward by leaps and bounds.

The future champion of the world must be a man of keen intellect, since psychology is assuming the importance that is its due. He must train earnestly, carefully, and consistently. The day of playing successful tennis and staying up till daybreak is over. The game is too fast and too severe for that. As competition increases the price of success goes up; but its worth increases in a greater ratio, for the man who triumphs in the World's Championship in 1950 will survive a field of stars beyond our wildest dreams in 1920.

What of the various countries? America should retain her place at or near the top, for the boys we are now developing should not only make great players themselves, but should carry on the work of training the coming generations.

England has but to interest her youth in the game to hold her place with the leaders. I believe it will be done. I look to see great advances made in tennis among the boys in England in the next few years. I believe the game will change to conform more to the modern net attack. England will never be the advanced tennis-playing country that her colonies are, for her whole atmosphere is one of conservatism in sport. Still her game will change. Already a slight modification is at work. The next decade will see a big change coming over the style of English tennis. The wonderful sporting abilities of the Englishman, his ability to produce his best when seemingly down and out mean that, no matter how low the ebb to which tennis might fall, the inherent abilities of the English athlete would always bring it up. I sound pessimistic about the immediate future. I am not, provided English boyhood is interested in the game.

Japan is the country of the future. There is no more remarkable race of students on the globe than the Japanese. They like tennis, and are coming with increasing numbers to our tournaments. They prove themselves sterling sportsmen and remarkable players. I look to see Japan a power in tennis in the next twenty-five years.

France, with her brilliant temperamental unstable people, will always provide interesting players and charming opponents. I do not look to see France materially change her present position—which is one of extreme honour, of great friendliness, and keen competition. Her game will not greatly rise, nor will she lose in any way the prestige that is hers.

It will be many long years before the players of those enemy countries, who plunged the world into the horrible baptism of blood from which we have only just emerged, will ever be met by the players of the Allies. Personally, I trust I may not see their re-entry into the game. Not from the question of the individuals, but from the feeling which will not down. There is no need to deal at this time with the future of Germany and Austria.

Australasia and South Africa, the great colonies of the British Empire, should be on the edge of a great tennis wave. I look to see great players rise in Australasia to refill the gaps left by the passing of Wilding and the retirement of Brookes. It takes great players to fill such gaps; but great players are bred from the traditions of the former masters.

The early season of 1921 saw a significant and to my way of looking at it, wise move on the part of New Zealand when the New Zealand tennis association withdrew from the Australasian tennis association and decided to compete for the Davis Cup in future years as a separate nation.

No one can deny the great help Australia has been to New Zealand in tennis development, but the time has come now for New Zealand to stand on her own. Since the regrettable death of Anthony F. Wilding, in whose memory New Zealand has a tennis asset and standard that will always hold a place in world sport, the New Zealand tennis players have been unable to produce a player of skill enough to make the Davis Cup team of Australasia. It has fallen to Australia with Norman E. Brookes, to whose unfailing support and interest Australasian tennis owes its progress since the war, G. L. Patterson, W. H. Anderson, R. L. Heath, and Pat O'Hara Wood to uphold the traditions of the game.

The Davis Cup challenge round of 1921 was staged in New Zealand in accord with the agreement between Australia and New Zealand and also in memory of A. F. Wilding. The tremendous interest in the play throughout the entire country showed the time was ripe for a drastic step forward if the step was ever to be taken. So after careful consideration the split of Australia and New Zealand has taken place. What will this mean to New Zealand? First it means that it will be years before another Davis Cup match will be staged on her shores, for it takes time and plenty of it to produce a winning team, but at the time, the fact is borne in on the tennis playing faction in New Zealand that as soon as they desire to challenge, their players will gain the opportunity of International competition.

Experience matures players faster than anything else and I am sure that the move that will place a team of New Zealand players in the field in the Davis Cup will be the first and biggest step forward to real world power in tennis. New Zealand produced one Wilding, why should not another appear?

I was tremendously impressed by the interest existing among the New Zealand boys in tennis. I met a great number during my few weeks in Auckland and seldom have seen such a magnificent physical type coupled with mental keenness. These boys, given the opportunity to play under adequate supervision and coaching, should produce tennis players of the highest class.

The New Zealand association has made a drastic move. I hope they have the wisdom to see far enough ahead to provide plenty of play for their young players and if possible to obtain adequate coaches in the clubs and schools.

Frankly I see no players of Davis Cup calibre now in New Zealand. I did see many boys whom I felt if given the chance would become Davis Cup material.

The break with New Zealand will have no effect on Australia, except to relieve a slight friction that has existed. Australia has plenty of material coming to insure a succession of fine teams for the Davis Cup in the future.

Both Australia and New Zealand handle their tennis in the country in a most efficient manner and the game seems to me to be progressing in a natural and healthy manner. The next ten years will decide the fate of New Zealand tennis. If they organise a systematic development of their boys I feel convinced they will gain a place of equality with Australia. If they do not seize their opening now, tennis will not revive until some genius of the game such as Norman E. Brookes arises in their midst from only the Lord knows where.

The future should see America and Australia fighting for supremacy in the tennis world, with England and France close on their heels, to jump in the lead at the first faltering.

It is only a matter of time before the last differences between the International Federation and the America Association are patched up. The fundamental desires of each, to spread the growth of tennis, are the same. Sooner or later the bar will fall, and a truly International Federation, worldwide in scope, will follow.

I look to see the Davis Cup matches gain in importance and public interest as each year goes by. The growth of the public interest in the game is seen at every hand. Wimbledon must seek new quarters. The new grounds of the All England Club will provide accommodation for 20,000 to witness the championships. This enormous stadium is the result of public pressure, owing to the crowds that could not be accommodated at the old grounds.

Westside Club, Forest Hills, where the American Championship was held, is planning accommodation for 25,000, provided that they are awarded the championship for a long term of years. Davis Cup matches are now drawing from 10,000 to 15,000 where the accommodation is available. What will the future hold?

I believe that 1950 will find the game of tennis on a plane undreamed of to-day. Tennis is still in its infancy. May I have the pleasure to help in rocking the cradle.

My task is completed. I have delved into the past, analysed the present, and prophesied the future, with a complete disregard of conventions and traditions.

The old order changeth, and I trust that my book may aid slightly in turning the tennis thought in the direction of organized developments. The day of self is past. The day of co-operation is dawning. It is seen in the junior tennis, the municipal tennis, and the spirit of international brotherhood in the game.

Assistance is necessary to success in any venture. My book has been made possible only by the aid afforded me by several of my companions on the Davis Cup team trip. The task of arranging the material in coherent order and proper style is one of the most important points. I owe a debt of gratitude to Mrs. Samuel Hardy, wife of our captain, for her never-failing interest and keen judgment in the matter of style.

Mr. Hardy, with his great knowledge of the game of tennis, as player, official, and organizer, freely gave of his store of experience, and to him I owe much that is interesting in the tactics of the game.

R. N. Williams, my team-mate, was always a willing critic and generous listener, and his playing abilities and decided ideas on the game gave much material that found its way into these pages. I wish to express my gratitude for his able assistance.

Charles S. Garland, my doubles partner and close friend, gave never-wavering faith and a willing ear to my ravings over strokes, tactics, and theories, while his orthodox views on tennis acted as a stop on my rather Bolshevik ideas.

To all these people I express my thanks for their part in any success I may attain with this book. I have a firm belief in the future of tennis. I recommend it to all. It gives firm friends, a healthy body, a keen mind, and a clean sport. It calls forth the best that is in you, and repays you in its own coin.

THE 1921 SEASON

The season of 1921 was the most remarkable year in tennis history throughout the whole world. More tennis was played and more people viewed it than ever before.

The climax of famous Davis Cup competition was reached when England, France, Japan, Australia, the Philippines, Denmark, Belgium, Argentine, Spain, India, Canada and Czecho-Slovakia challenged for the right to play America, the holding nation. This wonderful representation naturally produced not only many new stars, but also thousands of new enthusiasts in the various countries where the matches were played.

The early rounds saw several brilliant matches and naturally some defaults. Argentine and the Philippines could not put a team in the field at the last moment. Belgium, after defeating Czecho-Slovakia, was unable to finance her team to America to meet the winner of England and Australasia.

England scored a fine victory over Spain when Randolph Lycett, F. Gordon Lowe and Max E. Woosnam defeated Manuel Alonzo and Count de Gomar in a close meeting. Notwithstanding his defeat by Lycett, Manuel Alonzo proved himself one of the great players of the world and one of the most attractive personalities in tennis.

India sprang a sensation by defeating France in their match in Paris. Sleen, Jacob and Deane showed great promise for the future. France was crippled owing to the loss of A. H. Gobert and William Laurentz, the former through a seriously sprained ankle sustained in the World's Championship at Wimbledon, and the latter through illness. Samazieuhl, the new French champion, and Brugnon could not cope with the steadiness of the Indian stars and the team from the Orient won 3 matches to 2. Meanwhile the Australian team of J. O. Anderson, J. B. Hawkes, C. V. Todd and Norman Peach had arrived in America and journeyed to Canada, where they swamped their Colonial cousins easily. Norman E. Brookes, Gerald L. Patterson and Pat O'Hara Wood were unable to accompany the team, so the greatest contender for the title was weakened appreciably.

The Australians decisively defeated the Danish team of Tegner and Van Ingersley at Cleveland, winning with ease. They proceeded to Pittsburgh to await the arrival of the English players.

England sent her invading team, unfortunately without the services of Col. A. R. F. Kingscote and Randolph Lycett, who were unable to go owing to business affairs. J. C. Parke, her famous international star, was also out of the game, having retired from active competition last year. The English team was made up of Gordon Lowe, Max Woosnam, J. C. Gilbert and O. E. H. Turnbull. They were accompanied by that delightful author and critic A. Wallis Meyers.

The English met the Australians at Pittsburgh in July. The latter won three matches to two with J. O. Anderson, the outstanding figure of a well played meeting. The tall Australian defeated both Lowe and Woosnam in the singles and aided in the doubles victory, thus scoring all the points for his team.

Meanwhile the Indian team had arrived in America and proceeded to Chicago, where they met the Japanese team of Kumagae and Shimidzu. The battle of the Orient resulted in a victory for the Nipponese.

The final round found Australia playing Japan in the famous old tennis center of Newport, R. I., where the National Singles so long held sway. It was a bitter struggle, with the Australians within two little points of victory in two matches they afterwards lost. Shimidzu and Kumagae took all the singles, but Kumagae was two sets down to Hawkes and one to two down to Anderson. Thus Japan in its first year in Davis Cup competition earned the right to challenge America for the treasured trophy.

It was a marvellous meeting of these two teams. Over 40,000 people watched the players in three days. Although America won all five matches, Shimidzu came within two points of defeating me in straight sets and carried Johnston to a bitter four set struggle.

The Cup is safe for another year but the new blood infused into the competition by such men as Shimidzu, Alonzo, Woosnam, Anderson and Hawkes shows clearly that America must keep working or we will fall from our present position. It is a healthy thing for the game that this is so. I hope we will see many more new players of equal promise next year.

The United States Lawn Tennis Association, following its policy of co-operation with the Internation Federation, decided to send a team to France and England for the championships. The personnel of the team was Mrs. Franklin 1. Mallory, Miss Edith Sigourney, Arnold W. Jones (boy champion of America, 1919), and myself. J. D. E. Jones, father of Arnold, himself a tennis player of renown, accompanied the team, as did Mr. Mallory.

The invading tennis players sailed May 12th on the Mauretania to Cherbourg and from there journeyed to Paris, where they engaged in the Hard Court Championship of the world.

The first week of the stay was devoted to practice on the courts at the Stad Francais, St. Cloud, where the championship was held. The team were the guests of the Racing Club at a most delightful luncheon and shortly afterward dined as the guests of the Tennis Club of Paris.

The finals of the championship of France were held during our stay and, greatly to our surprise, A. H. Gobert, the defending title holder, fell a victim to his old enemy, heat, and went down to defeat before Samazieuhl. The Hard Court championships of the world produced a series of the most sensational upsets in the history of the game, a series, I might add, that did much to allow me to win the event. Gobert lost to Nicholas Mishu in the first round. Alonzo, after defeating Samazieuhl, went down to defeat at hands of Laurentz, who in turn collapsed to Tegner. Fate pursued the winners, for Tegner was eliminated by Washer, who came through to the final against me. Either Alonzo or Laurentz should have been finalists if the unexpected had not occurred, and either would have been a hard proposition for me particularly in my condition. I had been taken ill on my arrival in Paris and was still far from well. However, Fortune smiled on me and I succeeded in defeating Washer 6-3, 6-3, 6-3.

Meanwhile the long awaited meeting between Mlle. Lenglen and Mrs. Mallory was at hand. Mrs. Mallory had come through one side of the tournament after a bitter battle with Mme. Billoutt (Mlle. Brocadies) in the semi final.

Mlle. Lenglen had proceeded in her usual leisurely fashion to the finals with the loss of but two games.

What a meeting these two great players, Mrs. Mallory and Mlle. Lenglen, had! Every seat in the stands sold and every inch of standing room crowded! It was a marvellous match, both women playing great tennis. Mlle. Lenglen had consistently better depth and more patience. She out- manoeuvred the American champion and won 6-2, 6-3. The match was far closer than this one-sided score sounds. Every rally was long drawn out and bitterly contested, but the French girl had a slight superiority that brought her a well deserved victory.

A. H. Gobert and W. Laurentz retained their doubles title after one of the most terrific struggles of their careers in the semi-final round against Arnold Jones and me. The boy and I had previously put out Samazieuhl and his partner in three sets and just nosed out the Spanish Davis Cup team, Manuel Alonzo and Count de Gomar.

The semi final between Gobert and Laurentz and the Americans brought out a capacity audience that literally jumped to its feet and cheered during the sparkling rallies of the five bitterly contesting sets. Just as Gobert drove his terrific service ace past me for the match, Laurentz suddenly collapsed and fainted dead away on the court. It was a dramatic end to a sensational match.

The scene then shifted to England, where the American team journeyed across the Channel to prepare for the Grass Court championship of the world at Wimbledon. My preparation consisted of a hasty journey to a hospital, where a minor operation put me to bed until the day Wimbledon started.

The remainder of the team journeyed first to Beckenham and then to Roehampton for their first grass court play of the season. Mrs. Mallory met defeat at the hands of Mrs. Beamish at Beckenham while the other members fell by the wayside at sundry points. Mrs. Mallory won Roehampton, decisively defeating Miss Phillis Howkins in the final. Francis T. Hunter, another American who joined the team in England, although he was abroad on business, scored a victory in the men's event at Roehampton.

The world's championship at Wimbledon was another series of sensational matches and startling upsets. The draw as usual was topheavy, all the strength in the upper half with Frank Hunter and B. I. C. Norton in the lower. Every day saw its feature matches produce the unexpected. Shimidzu and Lycett battled for nearly four hours in a struggle that combined all the virtues and vices of tennis and pugilism. Col. A. R. F. Kingscote, after three sensational victories over Fisher, Dixon and Lowe, collapsed against Alonzo and was decisively defeated. Shimidzu looked a certain winner against Alonzo when he led at 2 sets to 1 and 4-1, but the Spaniard rose to great heights and by sensational play pulled out the match in five sets.

Norton and Hunter, after several close calls, met in the semi final. Norton took two sets and led 5-3 in the third only to have Hunter follow in Alonzo's footsteps and pull out the set and win the next. Here Norton again took command and ran out the match.

The Norton-Alonzo match in the final round was a sensational reversal. The Spaniard seemed assured of victory when he took two sets and led at 5-3 and 30-all, but the last-minute jinx that pursued the tournament fell upon him, for Norton came to life and, playing sensational tennis, pulled out the match and earned the right to me in the challenge round.

Then the jinx arose again and this time Babe Norton was the victim. Such a match as that challenge round produced! I went on the court feeling far from well and very much run down. Babe was on the crest but very nervous. He ran away with the first two sets with great ease. The third set I improved. Babe, after dropping three games, decided to let it go. The fourth set found the crowd excited and rather noisy. Norton became annoyed because he felt I was bothered, and he blew up. He simply threw away the fourth set from sheer nerves.

The fifth set was terrible. Norton had come to earth and was playing well while I for the first time in the match had some control of the ball. Norton finally led at 4-5 and 30-40 on my service, with the championship one point away.

We had a long rally. Desperately I hit down the line. I was so certain my shot was going out I started for the net to shake hands. The ball fell on the line and Babe in the excitement of the moment put his return out by inches. It was a life and fortunately for me I seized my chance and succeeded in pulling out the match and retaining the championship. Norton deserved to win, for nothing but luck saved me as I walked to the net, thinking my shot was out. Norton is the youngest man to have won the All Comers Singles. He is just 21.

The championships had two sad moments. One was the absence of J. C. Parke, due to retirement from singles. The other was the retirement of A. W. Gore, the famous veteran, after 30 years a participant in the championships.

The women's events found an even more unfortunate draw than the men. All the strength was in one eight. Miss Ryan defeated Miss K. McKane in the first round and Mrs. Beamish her old rival in the second. She met Mrs. Mallory in the third.

For one set Mrs. Mallory played the finest tennis of her career to that time and in fact equal even to her play against Suzanne Lenglen in America. She ran off six games in ten minutes. Miss Ryan, cleverly changing her game, finally broke up the perfection of Mrs. Mallory's stroking and just nosed her out in the next two sets. It was a well deserved victory.

Miss Ryan easily won the tournament and challenged Mlle. Lenglen, but her old jinx in the form of Suzanne again proved too much and she played far below her best. The French girl easily retained her title, winning 6-2, 6-0.

The journey of the wandering tennis troupe abroad was far from the most important development of the year. The American season was producing remarkable results. Every year produces its outstanding figure and the early months of 1921 saw Vincent Richards looming large on the tennis horizon.

The first sensation of the year was the decisive defeat inflicted on Kumagae by young Richards at Amakassin Club, New York. This was immediately followed by Kumagae's victory over Dick Williams, avenging Williams' win at Palm Beach some months before. Kumagae scored in the intercity match for the George Myers Church Trophy played in 1921 in Philadelphia. The following day Wallace F. Johnson defeated Kumagae in one of the most terrific battle of the year.

Vincent Richards went through the season to the middle of July without sustaining a defeat. He won five tournaments.

I arrived home from France and England July 12th and journeyed at once to Providence where I took charge of the Rhode Island State Championship at the Agawam Hunt Club. Zenzo Shimidzu had accompanied me to America on the Olympic and made his first tournament appearance two days after landing at Greenwich, Conn., before coming to Providence. He went down to unexpected defeat at the hands of S. H. Voshell.

The Providence tournament held the greatest entry list of any event except the National Singles itself. The singles had Shimidzu, Williams, Richards, C. S. Garland, Watson Washburn, S. H. Voshell, Samuel Hardy, N. W. Niles, many young Western collegiate stars and myself. Ichiya Kumagae arrived to play doubles with Shimidzu in preparation for the Davis Cup.

Then the fun began. Shimidzu again fell before the net attack of Voshell, who was himself defeated by the calm quiet steadiness of Washburn. Garland went out at my hands. Williams faced certain defeat when Niles led him 4-0 in the final set, but in one of his super-tennis streaks tore through to victory, only to collapse against Vincent Richards and suffer a crushing defeat 6-2, 6-2 in the semi-final. Meanwhile Washburn had dropped by the wayside to me 6-2, 6-2 and young Richards and I took up our annual battle.

Youth is cruel. The world is cruel. Life is hard. I know it, for Vinnie, with care and discretion, quietly led me along the Road of the Has-Beens, where he deposited me to the tune of 6-1, 6-2, 1-6, 6-0.

Richards, with the scalps of Kumagae, Williams, Voshell and myself dangling at his belt, seemed destined for the championship itself. Alas, pride goeth before a fall. The fall came to Vinnie suddenly.

The following week was the Longwood Singles. "Little Bill" Johnston arrived East, together with the rest of his California team, the day the event started. Johnston was the holder of the trophy and was called on to meet the winner of the tournament in the challenge round.

The tournament was mainly Dick Williams. He defeated Shimidzu in the final. Kumagae was his victim in an earlier round.

Willis E. Davis, second string of the California team, was unexpectedly defeated by N. W. Niles, who himself went the long road via Shimidzu. The little Japanese star scored another important victory when he defeated W. F. Johnson.

Williams met Johnston in the challenge round with chances bright. Somehow Little Bill has Dick's number these days and again decisively defeated him. Vincent Richards wisely rested the week of Longwood, preparing for the later events. I was off in the woods at Camp Winnipesaukee recuperating from the effects of illness in England.

Newport followed on the heels of Longwood. Newport should be called Washburn Week. Here the judicial Watty methodically placed Johnston and Williams in the discard on successive days. It was a notable performance.

Williams took an awful revenge on Vinnie Richards when the two met in the third round. It was Williams' day and he blew the little Yonkers boy off the court in one of the finest displays of the whole year. Shimidzu, who had again scored a victory over Wallace Johnson, was taken suddenly ill with ptomaine poisoning, the night before he was to meet Williams in the semi final, and compelled to default. It robbed him of a chance to gain revenge for his defeat at Longwood. Washburn played the best tennis of his life, in defeating Johnston and Williams, which, coupled with Richards' crushing defeat, placed Washburn on the Davis Cup team.

A sensational upset occurred in the first round when L. B. Rice defeated W. E. Davis. Rice has made a great improvement this year and bids fair to go far.

Seabright, the next week, found Little Bill Johnston playing the stellar role. Washburn took a week off but Williams and Richards were in the competition.

Johnston crushed Richards when the two met, in a display of aggressive tennis so remarkable that the boy was helpless before it. Richards was stale and below form, but even if he had been at his best, he could not have withstood Johnston's attack. Little Bill followed this up by sweeping Williams off the court by another marvellous streak of well nigh perfect tennis.