Qinwen Zheng’s Serve Under Construction

Also today: The odds of a 42-point tiebreak; January 19, 1974

Qinwen Zheng in 2023. Credit: Hameltion

Qinwen Zheng is one of the top prospects in the women’s game, up to 14th on the WTA ranking list at age 21. She won her first tour-level title in Palermo last summer, then upset Ons Jabeur en route to a quarter-final showing at the US Open. After topping Barbora Krejcikova for a second title in Zhengzhou, she reached the final at the WTA Elite Trophy, falling in a two hour, 52-minute final to Beatriz Haddad Maia.

With yesterday’s upsets of Elena Rybakina and Jessica Pegula at the Australian Open, Zheng’s draw opened up. With only one other seed in the second quarter, she’s the heavy favorite to earn a semi-final date with Iga Swiatek. Potential is poised to become reality.

It’s never been difficult to dream big on the Chinese woman’s behalf. Her service motion–once she gets past a hitchy toss–is a photographer’s dream, and she takes advantage of her five-foot, ten-inch frame to send first serve after first serve into the corners. When she hits a target out wide, returners are lucky to get a racket on the ball, let alone put it back in play. Her forehand is equally powerful.

The results bear out the devastation wreaked by her first delivery. Here are last year’s WTA top ten in first-serve percentage:

Player               1stWon%  
Qinwen Zheng           73.7%  
Elena Rybakina         73.6%  
Aryna Sabalenka        72.8%  
Caroline Garcia        72.5%  
Liudmila Samsonova     71.5%  
Iga Swiatek            70.0%  
Petra Kvitova          69.8%  
Belinda Bencic         69.5%  
Petra Martic           69.5%  
Ekaterina Alexandrova  69.4%

Pretty good company, huh? Her forehand grades well, too. According to Match Charting Data, Zheng hits more winners, induces more forced errors, and commits fewer unforced errors with that shot than the average player on tour. Her forehand potency (FHP) per match over the last 52 weeks is 10.8, placing her in the top ten among tour regulars, just behind Haddad Maia and Madison Keys.

That’s the good news. If you’re going to have just two world-class weapons, those are the ones to pick. They’ve served her well so far: If she justifies her seed and reaches the final four in Melbourne, she could crack the top ten.

The rest of Zheng’s game is–let’s be optimistic here–a work in progress. Today I want to look specifically at her serve as a whole; we’ll save her not-as-problematic backhand for another day.

When the 21-year-old lands her first serve, as we’ve seen, good things happen. She hits more aces than almost anyone on tour, and about half of her first-serve points end with either an unreturned first serve or a plus-one winner. The problem is, she doesn’t make many first serves, and when she misses, her second serve is as erratic as her first serve is imposing.

The average top-50 player on the WTA tour makes about 62% of her first serves. In 2023, Zheng succeeded just 51.8% of the time, almost three full percentage points below anyone else.

Making matters worse, her second-serve results are nearly as bad. The average top-50 WTAer wins 47% of her second-serve points. Zheng won 45.5%, a mark that places her in the bottom third of that group. Among the current top 20, only Jelena Ostapenko and Daria Kasatkina win fewer second-serve points. It’s even worse against a strong opponent. She hung onto just 20% of second-serve points against Swiatek in the United Cup this month, 24% versus Rybakina in Beijing, and a mere 26% against Liudmila Samsonova in Montreal. Zheng’s primary weapon makes her look like an elite server, but the overall picture is more mundane. Her first serve sets her on a level with Rybakina, but she barely holds serve as often as Petra Martic.

What is to be done?

This seems like it should be fixable, especially in so young a player. It’s certainly easy to dream. Imagine the seemingly-modest scenario in which Zheng manages to land her first serves and win second-serve points at the rates of an average top-50 player while maintaining her dominance on firsts. She would then win 63.5% of her service points. Only Swiatek and Sabalenka do better.

Easier said than done, of course. A good first serve is no guarantee of a strong second. On the women’s tour, there almost zero correlation between first-serve and second-points won.

Still, this seems like partly a tactical failure, not entirely a gap in her skillset. If Zheng can win nearly 74% of her first-serve points when she misses almost half of the time, what would happen if she served a bit more conservatively? Perhaps she could make 57% of her first serves and still win 72% of them? If so, that would be a bit better. Could she make 62% of first serves–the tour average rate–and win 70% of them? That would be better still.

Once we assume that these tradeoffs are feasible, the whole thing starts to sound like less of a tactical question and more of a pure math problem. I’m not sure that it is: Players practice various types of “first serves” and “second serves,” not every theoretical delivery on the continuum between them. Maybe a thoughtful veteran could tweak things to increase or decrease her first-in percentage at will, but I’m skeptical that a young player could do th esame. At the very least, it’s a project that would take some time.

Still, it’s worth working out whether Zheng could get more bang for her serve-talent buck. In 2009, Dutch researchers Franc Klaassen and Jan R. Magnus (henceforth K&M) published a paper in the Journal of Econometrics that proposed to answer this sort of question. They worked out the usual relationship between serving risk (how many first serves in, how many double faults) and reward (rate of first- and second-serve points won). My friend Jeff McFarland converted their rather complex algorithm to a spreadsheet, which is why I’m able to publish this today, and not in March. Thanks Jeff!

The following table shows Zheng’s actual 2023 results along with her model-optimized rates:

         1stIn%  1stWon%    DF%  2ndWon%   SPW%  
Actual    51.8%    73.7%   6.0%    45.5%  60.1%  
Optimal   60.5%    70.9%   8.8%    47.5%  61.7%

K&M’s formula estimates that Zheng could get close to a tour-average level of first serves in and still win about 71% of them, a success rate that would keep her in the top five. The more surprising output is that she could do better by taking more chances on her second serve. (This is a kind of light version of the oft-discussed argument that a player should just hit two first serves. The algorithm recommends some degree of this for most pros.) By adopting the more risky second-serve approach, she would in theory win 47.5% of those points despite the increase in double faults.

Altogether, those changes would increase her total service points won from 60.1%–12th among the current top 50–to 61.7%, which would rank her fifth.

Another way of looking at the potential gain is in points per thousand. For every thousand service points played, the fully-optimized version of Zheng would win about 16 more than she does now. If her return game remained the same, that’s an improvement of eight points per thousand overall. A few years ago I stumbled on a neat rule of thumb, that an improvement of one point per thousand translates into a gain of one place in the rankings, except near the very top. If that held in this case, the re-imagined Zheng would be on the cusp on the top five.

Again, this is all theoretical. I have no idea whether a big server could consciously execute a decision to take slightly fewer chances on the first and more on the second, or whether her results would follow the model if she did.

But! This is a potential route to a jump up the rankings without reworking groundstrokes, getting fitter or stronger, or even gaining experience. It’s probably not easy, but it’s likely simpler than the alternatives. As it stands now, Zheng’s second serve–and the frequency she’s forced to hit it–is going to hold her back. Solve that problem, and much of her obvious potential is unlocked.

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The odds of a 42-point tiebreak

“10-point tiebreak, my ***.” Credit: @hardpicstennis

Yesterday, Elena Rybakina and Anna Blinkova played a 42-point tiebreak. It’s the longest breaker in grand slam singles history. Blinkova won it, 22-20.

What are the odds?

Let’s start with simply getting to 9-all. We’ll assume that Rybakina and Blinkova were playing at the same level. Yes, Rybakina was a heavy favorite entering the match, and she won a few more points than Blinkova to get to 6-4, 4-6, 6-all. But the margin was narrow, and the math is simpler if we assume they are equal. They won serve points throughout the match at about a 59% rate. Since players tend to be more conservative during tiebreaks, returners fare better, so we’ll say that whoever is serving had a 55% chance of winning the point.

I ran a Monte Carlo simulation to find the odds of reaching 9-all. Here are those probabilities, along with odds at various other levels of serve dominance:

SPW   Reach 9-all  
55%         10.0%  
60%         10.3%  
65%         11.2%  
70%         12.5%  
80%         17.0%

Roughly speaking, there was a one-in-ten chance that yesterday’s breaker would reach 9-all.

From there, the math is simpler. There are two ways to get from 9-all to 10-all: both women could win their service points, or both could win their return points. Serving at 55%, the chances that one or the other occurs are 50.5%. The same logic applies to the step from 10-all to 11-all, 11-all to 12-all, and so on. So for Rybakina and Blinkova, getting from 9-all to 20-all was roughly equivalent to flipping a coin eleven times and getting heads every time–a one-in-two-thousand shot.

To reach 20-all, then, players need to get to 9-all, then trade points another eleven times. For servers at 55%, that’s a one-in-ten shot followed by a one-in-two-thousand shot, or one in twenty thousand–a 0.005% likelihood–altogether.

Here are the equivalent numbers for servers at various levels:

SPW   Reach 9-all  Reach 20-all  that's 1 in…  
55%         10.0%        0.005%         18357  
60%         10.3%        0.008%         12916  
65%         11.2%        0.014%          7086  
70%         12.5%        0.031%          3201  
80%         17.0%        0.244%           409 

You might remember the 24-22 tiebreak that Reilly Opelka won against John Isner in Dallas a couple of years ago. The probabilities are dramatically different depending on how serve-dominant the players are, so the Rybakina-Blinkova result was considerably more far-fetched than what Opelka and Isner produced. Adjusting for the fact that the Dallas tiebreak was first-to-seven and assuming that both players won 80% of serve points (an estimate on the low side), this method gives us a one-in-2,192 chance of that tiebreak reaching 22-all.

There are various ways to tweak the numbers. It might be the case that players perform better facing match point; if so, it’s a bit more likely that they’d reach this sort of outrageous score. Maybe it’s appropriate to give Rybakina a modest edge over Blinkova; if we did that, the odds of drawing even so long would be lower. One-in-18,357 isn’t exactly right, but it gives us a rough idea of just how unusual yesterday’s feat truly was.

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January 19, 1974: Sanctioned

Four months from its proposed opening day, things finally started to look up for World Team Tennis. On January 18th, the USLTA officially sanctioned the league in exchange for a $144,000 fee. Another chip fell the next day, when American co-number one Jimmy Connors signed with the Baltimore Banners.

WTT still had several hurdles to clear. The British LTA continued to object to the league’s attempted takeover of so many weeks of the summer calendar. The ILTF, as well, had yet to give their okay. The ATP, still a nascent players’ union, also held back. A few top men–John Newcombe, Ken Rosewall, and now Connors–had thrown in their lot with the upstarts, but until the union made its stance clearer, the WTT ranks remained dominated by women stars.

Across the country, those women were making the case that they’d be able to draw sufficient crowds on their own. Also on January 19th, the first event of the 1974 Virginia Slims circuit came to a close. 6,000 fans packed San Francisco’s Civic Auditorium to watch Chris Evert take on Billie Jean King for the title. Another 2,000 were turned away at the gates. Traffic was jammed for blocks in every direction, and ticket scalpers worked the rows of stalled motorists.

The Slims tour had been dominated by Margaret Court in 1973, with Billie Jean hampered by injury and Evert competing on a separate tour sponsored by the USLTA. This year, Court was absent, pregnant with her second child. If San Francisco was any indication, the Australian would hardly be missed. The federation had made peace with the one-time rebels of the Slims tour, and now Gladys Heldman’s women-only circuit was the only game in town. Billie Jean was healthy (and the ultimate marquee draw, after defeating Bobby Riggs), and Evert provided new blood.

Chrissie also provided fresh motivation for the Old Lady. King had hinted that she would dial back her tournament commitments in 1974, but she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Playing no-ad games for the San Francisco title, Billie Jean kept her younger opponent under constant pressure. Five times Evert reached sudden-death point on her serve; five times she saved it. King finally pulled ahead to take the first set, winning the tiebreak, 5-2. Evert mounted a comeback from 0-4 in the second, but Billie Jean halted her momentum when she chased down a drop shot that Chris didn’t think she could touch.

“She was very gutsy and I once thought I had no chance,” King said after the match. “And thank God for giving me a pretty good pair of wheels on that particular shot.”

Billie Jean was thrilled at both the result and the sellout crowd. Nothing pleased her more than a successful women’s tour–except, of course, for a successful women’s tour with herself on top.

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December 11, 1973: Triangulation

Ken Rosewall was the odd man out when Australia triumphed in the 1973 Davis Cup final, but less than two weeks later, he was in the news as a sought-after star. On December 11th, the 39-year-old signed on as the player-coach of the Pittsburgh Triangles. He would team with Evonne Goolagong, Vitas Gerulaitis, and others when the World Team Tennis campaign began in May.

Rosewall’s signing was a much-needed shot in the arm for the upstart league. It had held a player draft in August, making a splash with the early signings of Billie Jean King and John Newcombe. Since then, contract announcements had been sparse, especially among men. The Association of Tennis Professionals, the men’s union, was skeptical of the concept; leading figures Stan Smith and Arthur Ashe were particularly firm against it. Until the ATP made an official decision, men who joined a Team Tennis squad risked suspension from the main tour.

That was just the start. The International Lawn Tennis Federation continued to deny their sanction to the league, seeing the May-to-August schedule of stateside dates as an existential threat to the traditional European summer calendar of the French Open, Italian Open, and so much more. WTT bigwigs had made it clear that it wouldn’t stand in the way of Wimbledon, but given the proposed league schedule, other conflicts were inevitable.

Enough player signings, though, and the governing bodies would be irrelevant. Limited as it was, the men’s roster already included Rosewall, Newcombe, and Jimmy Connors. By the end of the month, Ilie Năstase would also be flirting with the league. Drafted by San Diego, he made news when he demanded a trade to New York, saying it was the only place he would play–if he decided to play at all. WTT had no problem lining up top women: In addition to King and Goolagong, Margaret Court had reached an agreement with the San Francisco Golden Gaters, even if she had yet to put pen to paper.

If organized tennis had learned one thing since the beginning of the Open era in 1968, it was that money would win in the end. The details of Rosewall’s contract weren’t immediately announced, except that the modest Australian would receive most of his compensation in the form of “annuities, life insurance, and a pension.” Rumors swirled that top players could get six-figure deals–enormous sums for a few months of exhibition tennis. Only eight men earned $100,000 for the entire 1973 campaign, and Năstase played 32 weeks–not counting Davis Cup!–for his table-topping $228,750.

Much of the sport’s old guard hoped that Team Tennis would simply go away. Five months away from the first serve of the proposed 1974 season, Rosewall’s signing was a reminder that yet another battle for talent, status, and fan attention laid in wait.

* * *

This post is part of my series about the 1973 season, Battles, Boycotts, and Breakouts. Keep up with the project by checking the TennisAbstract.com front page, which shows an up-to-date Table of Contents after I post each installment.

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August 27, 1973: The Controversial Sport

Lee Meade, the World Team Tennis owner who triggered the latest kerfuffle

Yep, they were going to do this again.

Two days away from the start of the 1973 US Open, the International Lawn Tennis Federation was threatening a ban. Or the possibility of a ban, or something. The ILTF’s member federations were worried about World Team Tennis and the increasing number of star players the league was hoovering up.

In response, the ILTF would leave no threat unlevied.

It had been weeks since the Team Tennis draft and the announcement that Billie Jean King and John Newcombe would take part in the league’s 1974 summer season. Minnesota Buckskins owner Lee Meade tried to capitalize on the excitement surrounding the US Open by announcing, on August 27th, his signing of Linda Tuero. Compared to King, Newk, and other WTT signees such as Rosie Casals, Tuero was small fry.

Then again, Niki Pilić wasn’t a contender either. And he brought down Wimbledon.

Linda never made it to the press conference. According to her lawyer (and former top ten player) Gene Scott, USLTA president Walter Elcock “told Linda that if she played WTT or or did anything to indicate that she played WTT, the International Lawn Tennis Federation would ban her.”

Though Scott rightly called the threat “ill-conceived and ill-timed,” it didn’t come out of nowhere. A few days earlier, the ILTF had sent a letter to the American federation with a reminder that the international body had the power to ban players who signed contracts with unsanctioned organizations that interfered with ILTF events.

The appetite for self-destruction was astonishing. The decision to ban players was in the ILTF’s hands, and a US Open official admitted that stars might be ruled out of competition “one minute before they step on the court for their first match.” Perhaps not coincidentally, King and Newcombe weren’t on the schedule for the first day of play.

Most galling of all, all the Americans could do was wait. Would the showcase event of the season be compromised by yet another ban- or boycott-riddled field? Long-time tournament director Bill Talbert didn’t know. “I wouldn’t doubt it,” he said.

The New York Daily News summed up the state of the game: It was the “controversial sport of tennis.” Dissension was no longer occasional: It was endemic. For all of the so-called “peace agreements” of the last twelve months, major conflict still loomed. The Forest Hills faithful could only hope it would leave the Open unscathed.

* * *

This post is part of my series about the 1973 season, Battles, Boycotts, and Breakouts. Keep up with the project by checking the TennisAbstract.com front page, which shows an up-to-date Table of Contents after I post each installment.

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August 8, 1973: Countermove

1972 Grand Prix points leader Ilie Năstase

Every time tennis’s rival groups reached an agreement, another interloper entered the field. Top players were free agents, and there was so much money up for grabs through television broadcasts and commercial sponsorships that the cycle seemed like it might continue forever.

The ILTF-backed Grand Prix had come to terms with World Championship Tennis in late 1972, granting the US-based WCT circuit four uncontested months at the start of each calendar year. That left the Grand Prix more than half the year to fill with the traditional federation-sponsored events, including the four majors.

The peace lasted less than a year. World Team Tennis was the latest newcomer, and it laid a claim to a prime segment of the season between May and July. Wimbledon wasn’t directly under attack–WTT franchisees said they would break for the Championships–but the French, the Italian, and a slew of other traditional events had new reasons to worry about attracting talent. The WTTers were parvenus, but they had enough money to cause problems. In its inaugural player draft, the league divvied up the rights to every single player of note.

On August 8th, Commercial Union–the title sponsor of the Grand Prix–made its move. A spokesman for the insurance group announced the plan for 1974: an expanded slate of 15 tournaments with prize pots of at least $100,000, including the majors. Players would be eligible for a bonus pool–and here’s the kicker–only if they entered a certain number of designated events.

Put another way, stars who passed on World Team Tennis would have a new end-of-season payday to aim for.

The explicit goal was to get more big-name players at more Grand Prix events:

In the past some tournament organisers have not known sufficiently well in advance which players would compete and this is most important since they wish to obtain the best terms of sponsorship and television.

Pro tennis was tied in a knot that it still hasn’t entirely figured out how to undo. The marquee names were immensely valuable, worth more than most events could offer in prize money. Their popularity, though, depended on conquering the familiar circuit. Take Davis Cup and Wimbledon away from Stan Smith and you were left with a B-lister. The tournaments succeeded on the backs of players–preferably, all of them. But men who had already earned their reputations–Smith, Rod Laver, Ilie Năstase, John Newcombe, Ken Rosewall, and others–could cash in their celebrity without entering 30 tournaments a year.

Both sides needed the other, but the tournaments needed the players more.

Team Tennis threatened to disrupt what fragile balance remained. One-off, made-for-television exhibitions were the scourge of traditional tournament promoters. WTT’s proposed 44-match schedule was that much worse.

Federation officials dreamed of getting the stars back under control. Only six years earlier, tournaments didn’t even offer prize money, and top players (usually) went where the bureaucrats told them to go. Now, the athletes were getting rich, and like their colleagues across all major sports, they sought even greater control of their destiny. Free agency was inching toward reality in Major League Baseball. The same day as Commercial Union’s announcement, a judge in the United States ruled in favor of the World Hockey Association, which sought to sign players whose National Hockey League contracts expired. A proposed merger of the National Basketball Association and the American Basketball Association was held up in the courts by hoopsters concerned about their bargaining position.

The future belonged to the players. First, though, there were more skirmishes to fight. Team Tennis, it was becoming increasingly clear, would provide the next battleground.

* * *

This post is part of my series about the 1973 season, Battles, Boycotts, and Breakouts. Keep up with the project by checking the TennisAbstract.com front page, which shows an up-to-date Table of Contents after I post each installment.

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August 3, 1973: The Draft

John Newcombe at the 1973 Louisville Pro Tennis Classic

The strangest thing about contemporary reactions to the advent of World Team Tennis is that no one seemed to realize just how weird it was.

Let’s review. For decades, the contours of the tennis season had been more or less stable. Specific events came and went, but the basic idea was consistent: a global collection of single-elimination tournaments with regional circuits in each major tennis-playing nation. The pre-1968 professional tours didn’t quite fit that mold, but even they stuck with the notion of head-to-head, rivalry-based singles play. The only teams in tennis were doubles pairs and national groupings for Davis Cup, Fed Cup, and Wightman Cup.

Then, in 1973, a bunch of North American promoters, many of whom knew more about ice hockey than tennis, proposed a 16-team league that would play a 44-match schedule between May and July each year. They raised money, rented venues, sold their vision to players, and charged ahead.

Yes, May to July, that notorious wasteland on the tennis calendar.

I mean, what part of this wasn’t bizarre?

The league crept closer to reality on August 3rd when it held its official draft. The 16 teams took turns choosing a total of 312 players. Miami, with the first overall selection, went with local heroine Chris Evert. Filling out the top six, in order, were Kerry Melville, Rod Laver, Jimmy Connors, Ken Rosewall, and Rosie Casals.

Again, think about this for a moment. It was basically a bunch of rich guys and hucksters playing fantasy tennis, willing to redesign the entire sport to make it happen.

Still, the principals took the league seriously. Some of them had very good reasons to do so. The biggest winners on draft day were Houston and Philadelphia, who picked up John Newcombe and Billie Jean King, respectively. Newk and King were among a handful of players who had already committed to contracts with the league. In exchange, they were given some say in where they ended up. Billie Jean signed for a reported $100,000 per year for five years, and she was jazzed at the prospect of giving long-suffering Philadelphians a winning team to get behind. Newcombe, who would earn around $75,000, welcomed the Team Tennis format as a way to stay closer to his Texas ranch.

Newk, though, might not have understood exactly what he was getting into. Neil Amdur wagged in the New York Times that the stars were “lured by the chance to make more money for less work.” Maybe. But: 44 matches in three months? Including constant travel from one corner of the United States to the other? With Wimbledon stuck in the middle? Newcombe wasn’t going to spend much time at the ranch, and nobody was going to make it to the end of that season refreshed and ready to take on the rest of the 1974 tournament slate.

Owners were jumping into the unknown, too, maybe even more than the players were. No one knew exactly which stars would suit up, beyond the small group of early signees. Evert was noncommittal. Stan Smith fell to the third round and Ilie Năstase dropped to the fourth, as they weren’t expected to participate. Some teams seemed to run out of ideas: San Diego selected retired stars Maria Bueno and Karen Susman. Chicago spent their ninth-round pick on Bobby Riggs, and Toronto rounded out their haul with a local sportswriter named George Gross.

Only one franchise seems to have considered the value of expertise. Cleveland tapped Richard González, the long-time pro champion, as a draft day advisor. Gorgo selected Björn Borg with the 13th overall choice–a savvy call, as long as the Swede would play. In the sixth round, the 45-year-old González named himself.

Even though the 1973 draft ran out of steam after a few hundred picks, Gorgo foresaw a future with a nearly inexhaustible talent pool, one in which Team Tennis would play a valuable role. “It opens up the whole game,” he said. “Within ten years, there will be a thousand good players who’ll need some place to play.”

When the league was announced back in June, promoter Jerry Saperstein compared the venture to a game of craps. Yet the range of possible outcomes for World Team Tennis was more staggering than the stakes in the wildest casino game. The league could quickly go bust in a flurry of lawsuits, or it could prove a going concern, forcing the rest of the tennis world to make room. Win or lose, the sport would never be the same.

* * *

This post is part of my series about the 1973 season, Battles, Boycotts, and Breakouts. Keep up with the project by checking the TennisAbstract.com front page, which shows an up-to-date Table of Contents after I post each installment.

You can also subscribe to the blog to receive each new post by email:

 

June 22, 1973: A Team Sport

Billie Jean King in 1975 with New York Sets owner Sol Berg

“The condition of man,” wrote Thomas Hobbes, “is a condition of war of everyone against everyone.”

Ah, so Hobbes was a tennis fan.

In 1972, the International Lawn Tennis Federation finally made its peace with World Championship Tennis, the deep-pocketed tournament circuit based in the United States. As soon as that agreement was reached, a new antagonist entered the scene in the form of the Association of Tennis Professionals, the players’ union that was now threatening the sport with a boycott at the biggest event of them all, Wimbledon.

In April 1973, the USLTA came to terms with the rival Virginia Slims circuit. Same story: The truce led to the formation of the Women’s Tennis Association.

The 1973 tennis calendar was a fragile thing. Promoters world-wide–and especially in the States–competed to attract the biggest stars of the game, often in pursuit of television contracts. Some of the upstarts were sanctioned; others didn’t care. There were more would-be tournaments and exhibitions than there were weeks to hold them or marquee names to play them.

And then it got worse. On June 22, 1973, Jerry Saperstein–best known as the former owner of basketball’s barnstorming Harlem Globetrotters–announced the formation of the World Team Tennis League. The 16-team circuit would begin play in May 1974.

The plan was audacious beyond belief. Modern fans know World Team Tennis as a laid-back series of summer exhibitions, a sideshow that rarely takes a top player away from any sanctioned tournament worth entering. Saperstein and his associates were thinking bigger. Teams would play forty-four matches between May and July.

In the understatement of the year, the promoter acknowledged that a few other tennis events took place during those months: “Obviously there will be conflicts, but we’ll do anything within reason to accommodate the existing tournaments.” In practice, that meant two weeks off for Wimbledon, and the rest of the existing slate could fend for itself.

The big question was whether the players would buy in. The league would need around 100 athletes, and Saperstein expected the number one man and the number one woman to sign up. (He didn’t name names, perhaps diplomatically, because both titles were up for grabs.) WTT staffers headed to London to talk up the venture. Tabling boycott-related matters, ATP leaders discussed how they should approach the new venture. Stan Smith, one of the league’s top targets, was skeptical.

Most negative of all, however, were the Brits. To many on the island, the Wimbledon boycott wasn’t the fault of an imperious power structure, or even the ATP. They blamed the Americans–or, more specifically, American money. Jack Kramer had lured the world’s best into his professional ranks for decades. Lamar Hunt signed big checks that kept stars jetting around the States for months at a time. And now, a consortium of US team owners (okay, well, John Bassett was ready to put a team in Toronto) were taking aim at the British summer season and perhaps even Wimbledon itself.

“‘Team Tennis’,” wrote David Talbot of the Birmingham Post, “will be a travesty of lawn tennis.”

It would be different, that much was certain. Several prospective owners were also involved in the upstart World Hockey Association, and the league would target a demographic that was less country club, more hockey fan. On court, WTT squads would play no-ad games, change sides only after each set, and allow mid-match substitutions.

Would it work? Saperstein, whose New York franchise would play at Madison Square Garden, admitted, “This is like rolling craps–we’ll lose money the first year.” Profitable or not, World Team Tennis would offer a challenge to the tennis establishment that would make the Wimbledon boycott seem like a mere bump in the road.

* * *

This post is part of my series about the 1973 season, Battles, Boycotts, and Breakouts. Keep up with the project by checking the TennisAbstract.com front page, which shows an up-to-date Table of Contents after I post each installment.

You can also subscribe to the blog to receive each new post by email:

 

Podcast Episode 85: Author Steven Blush on 1970s World Team Tennis

Episode 85 of the Tennis Abstract Podcast features Jeff with guest Steven Blush, author of the recent book Bustin’ Balls: World Team Tennis 1974-78: Pro Sports, Pop Culture, and Progressive Politics.

We talk about how drastically WTT has changed from the early days, the crucial importance of Billie Jean King and the 1973 Battle of the Sexes, and how WTT fit into the 1970s cultural milieu. As Steven tells it, the original WTT was revolutionary, even “proto-woke,” with a place for everyone, setting men and women on equal footing, and welcoming everyone from Black NBA star John Lucas to (eventually) transgender trailblazer Renee Richards. This is an in-depth look at a neglected but fascinating part of tennis history.

I had a great time recording this episode, so I hope you’ll give it a listen. And, of course, Steven’s book makes the perfect Christmas gift for the tennis fan in your life.

Fans of the TA podcast will also want to check out Dangerous Exponents, the new Covid-19 podcast that Carl Bialik and I are doing. We released episode 2 yesterday.

(Note: this week’s episode is about 63 minutes long; in some browsers the audio player may display a different length. Sorry about that!)

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