U.S. Open is the fairest of them all
Flushing Meadows tourney is truest test of the Grand Slams
COMMENTARY posted on NBCSPORTS.COM by Ted Robinson
(Note:
this MSNBC article, posted on the eve on the 2002 U.S. Open,
is notable for the last paragraph.)
Aug. 13, 2002 — There is no question the U.S. Open
is the fairest of the four major tennis championships,
a group which also includes the Australian and French Opens,
as well as Wimbledon.
ONE OF THE major reasons I feel the U.S. Open can make that claim is that the hard court surface used at the USTA National Tennis Center requires the least amount of specialization. It is well documented that the Spaniards, who have grown up primarily playing on clay, have installed numerous hard courts in their development centers, so that they have the capacity to compete well on that surface.
Carlos Moya’s win in mid-August at the big ATP Masters event in Mason, Ohio, was a direct payoff of this greater concentration. It was the first time in the more than 100-year history of that tourney that a Spaniard prevailed.
The Australian Open also is played on a hard court, but since it is contested at the beginning of the year, in a remote section of the world, I cannot consider it to be a truly fair test. The Melbourne-based tourney interrupts the relatively short off-season the elite players enjoy. For instance, the Tennis Masters Cup final concludes the ATP schedule in the middle of November. The first pre-Australian Open tuneups begin about six weeks later.
In fact, despite its status as one of the four slams, it can be a stretch for some players to fit the Australian Open into their schedule. It requires a substantial time commitment. If a player hopes to win the Australian, they probably need to play in the warm-up tournaments there and in New Zealand, which means they could spend as much as four to five weeks in the Southern Hemisphere.
The end of November, December and January is also the best time for tennis players to undergo any needed surgeries or rehabilitate any injuries. As a result, you have players in various degrees of mental and physical fitness convening in Australia in January, mitigating against the possibility of this slam being the truest test on the circuit.
By contrast, from a timing perspective, the U.S. Open is the culmination of the tennis campaign. While the ATP and WTA tours officially conclude with their season-ending championships in November, the grand slam season, which is generally more important to the players, ends with the U.S. Open in early September.
Moreover, there is a substantial hard court tuneup season which begins the third week of July with the major lead-up tournaments being contested in North America.
There will always be players who excel or specialize on one surface or another, but this seems to be even more prevalent lately, especially on the men’s tour. Whether it be the Spaniards and South Americans on the clay at Roland Garros, or the big servers on the grass of Wimbledon, the playing surfaces alone make the fairness argument spurious for both of these slams. At least the clay court lead-up to the French is long enough so that players can get themselves somewhat acclimated.
The fifteen days between the end of the French and the start of Wimbledon offers virtually no time for a player to make the transition from the very different surfaces of clay and grass. Surprisingly enough, given its reputation as perhaps the most prestigious grand slam, a number of players simply skip Wimbledon altogether. This year’s French Open champion Albert Costa scheduled his wedding and honeymoon during the Wimbledon time period because he figured, probably correctly, that he had no chance on the grass.
A number of other players routinely skip Wimbledon because they feel there is not enough time to adapt to the grass and they do not want to see their ranking impaired by losing in the first round or two. The compressed nature of the tennis schedule and the diminishing number of grass court tournaments makes Wimbledon, at least on the men’s side, not reflective of the true tennis world order.
Even though the U.S. Open is the fairest of the grand slams it is also the toughest to win, particularly for the men’s champion. There is no more grueling event in tennis than seven best-of-five set matches on hard courts in what can be humid and/or hot weather. The demands it takes on you both mentally and physically is extreme. It is like the French Open in that only the very fittest players will survive.
It is also a demanding test because you have to beat New York itself. Flushing Meadows is a long way from the All England Club with the heat, noise, wind and the energy that is New York. There has never been a moment I have sat at Flushing Meadows and seen it as peaceful and quiet as center court at Wimbledon. And through the years there have been players who have had trouble accepting the environment that is New York. After all it can be a challenge just navigating to and from the tennis center. Everything that makes New York a great city also makes it a difficult city and probably multiplies the challenge for the tennis players.
The one element that is not fair at the U.S. Open, and exists solely for television purposes, is the Saturday semifinal and Sunday final which takes place at none of the other major championships. As a result Pete Sampras, playing spectacular tennis last year, beat Patrick Rafter, Andre Agassi and Marat Safin in succession before facing Lleyton Hewitt in the final. He was a decided underdog in that match, because Hewitt being younger, had the fresher legs. It was painfully obvious from the beginning of their match that Sampras had absolutely nothing in the tank. A day of rest would have been helpful to the older player.
The most amazing champion I have seen in my 15 years of broadcasting the U.S. Open was Sweden’s Stefan Edberg. When I first started announcing at Flushing Meadows, there seemed to be no top player more distracted by New York than Edberg. He seemed to have no enjoyment playing there. He hated the wind, and the papers that would blow around occasionally. He despised the noise and all of the “atmosphere” that is New York. Yet within several years he ended up winning the Open twice in 1991 and 1992. I never saw a player make a greater leap in all my years in New York than Edberg.