{"id":4849,"date":"2022-03-10T11:20:57","date_gmt":"2022-03-10T11:20:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.tennisabstract.com\/blog\/?p=4849"},"modified":"2022-03-10T11:20:57","modified_gmt":"2022-03-10T11:20:57","slug":"the-tennis-128-no-113-karel-kozeluh","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.tennisabstract.com\/blog\/2022\/03\/10\/the-tennis-128-no-113-karel-kozeluh\/","title":{"rendered":"The Tennis 128: No. 113, Karel Ko\u017eeluh"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Karel Ko\u017eeluh in 1930. <\/em>
Credit: Biblioth\u00e8que nationale de France<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

In 2022, I\u2019m counting down the 128 best players<\/a> of the last century. With luck, we\u2019ll get to #1 in December. Enjoy!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\nKarel Ko\u017eeluh [CZE]<\/b>\n
Born: 7 March 1895\n
Died: 27 April 1950\n
Career: 1911-45\n
Plays: Right-handed (one-handed backhand)\n
Peak rank: 1 (1929, among professionals)\n
Major singles titles: 0 (4 pro majors)\n
Total singles titles: 15 (and probably many more)\n
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* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This list is premised on the idea that you can measure players against their eras with reasonable accuracy. That isn’t the only factor that goes into a ranking–some eras are stronger than others. But certain men and women earned their status as legends because they so clearly dominated their peers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What if they weren’t allowed to play against the best of their contemporaries? While it’s common to hear the term “Open Era,” it’s easy forget exactly what it means. Before 1968, the vast majority of tournaments were, in one sense or another, closed<\/em>. Until the 1950s, almost all events in the United States were white-only. Tournaments on the French Riviera circuit were often limited to members of the hosting club, with temporary membership passes granted to any member of the social or tennis-playing elite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then there’s the whole basis of the “open tennis” debate: the long-lasting proscription against professionals. The men who ran international tennis considered it a game for amateurs, and a global army of bureaucrats carefully policed the ranks, ensuring that it stayed that way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The strangest–and most infuriating–facet of this history is that a huge fraction of the players who either elected to turn professional or were kicked out of the amateur ranks never played matches for money<\/em>. No, their crime was that they taught tennis and got paid for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some traditionalists could speak eloquently about keeping the game free of filthy lucre, but however pure their rhetoric, the point was always exclusion. Players without family wealth who needed to earn a living were welcome–sort of–but only if they could do so in a respectable pursuit like business. Someone who could pay the bills only with their tennis racket didn’t pass the upper-class entrance exam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is all a long-winded way of explaining why you probably haven’t heard of Karel Ko\u017eeluh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ko\u017eeluh was born in Prague in 1895, and he didn’t take up tennis until he was 16. He was already competing in just about every other sport. Before he made his name as a tennis star, he played international ice hockey and soccer–the latter for both Austria and Czechoslovakia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Early on, he took a job as a tennis teaching pro, thus killing any shot at a sparkling career on the amateur circuit. Before World War I, professional tournaments occasionally took place, but they were rare and little heralded. The gatherings of coaches that resulted fell far short of what we now think of as professional tennis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Ko\u017eeluh (left) with Hungarian soccer great Imre Schlosser<\/em>
Credit: \u00d6sterreichische Nationalbibliothek<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

The situation didn’t change immediately after the war, either. Two things finally catapulted Ko\u017eeluh into the international tennis world. First, he traveled to the Riviera, where well-heeled holidaymakers wanted to play tennis and sought out quality instruction. Second, promoter extraordinaire C.C. Pyle turned his attention to the sport and essentially invented marquee pay-for-play tennis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pyle convinced six-time Wimbledon champion Suzanne Lenglen to turn pro in 1926. Fans in Britain and the United States flocked to see her, and for the first time, professional tennis was played in front of thousands of fans. Lenglen didn’t last on the barnstorming circuit, and Pyle quickly moved on to other interests. But their short collaboration demonstrated that a market existed. Without an impressive amateur resume, Ko\u017eeluh could never be a headlining superstar like Lenglen was, but every star needed a foil with enough skill to keep things interesting. That role was tailor-made for the Czech.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Remember the timeline. Opportunity finally arrived for Ko\u017eeluh in 1928, when he was 33 years old.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ko\u017eeluh caught the eye of Bill Tilden in 1927, and his results in professional tournaments in France sealed his reputation as the best pro player in Europe. In 1928, he would take on the baby-faced American Vinnie Richards, a former Tilden protege and 1924 Olympic gold medalist who had been part of C.C. Pyle’s Lenglen tour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Richards never reached a major final as an amateur, but thanks to a glittering junior career, a closet full of doubles trophies, and a strong all-around game, he was considered among the best players of his era. In 1927, he won the first US Pro championships, a tournament initially devised by Pyle (though never run by him) to provide a showcase for pay-for-play competition on par with the great amateur tournaments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Ko\u017eeluh-Richards competition began with a three-match series, played in Prague, London, and New York, pitting the strongest European pro against the reigining US champ. Ko\u017eeluh won all three, demonstrating a total mastery of clay-court tennis. Ray Bowers, whose book Forgotten Victories<\/em> is an essential guide to this era, describes<\/a> the Czech’s style of play:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ko\u017eeluh was master of the defensive game, staged from well behind the baseline using a single grip both forehand and backhand. If his opponent also stayed deep, Ko\u017eeluh was usually content to deliver softish, safe shots endlessly, waiting for his opponent’s eventual mistake. His superb court speed made an opponent’s winner from the baseline achievable only at high risk. An opponent at net could expect no easy volley opportunities, and if the attacker’s approach shot was weak Ko\u017eeluh’s accuracy in delivering lobs and passing shots would probably prevail.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

On the flip side, his footwork was sometimes sloppy, and he hit most of his shots from the same upright position. It didn’t matter, because he was so blindingly fast. On a clay court, it was near impossible to hit one past him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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