NEW YORK -- What's all this whining and crying about there not being any Americans in tennis anymore? Why, because Jimbo is sliding, because Chrissie is slipping, because Mac belongs on a couch?
So what? Forget about them.
You want Americans at the U.S. Open? I'll give you Americans in the finals. You might even argue that the reason they made it to the finals is because they are so characteristically American -- because they have learned how to impose their wills on their opponents, to seize the moment when it presents itself.
I'll give you a man and a woman. He won a first-set tie breaker Saturday, and after that, his opponent wilted like a day-old rose. She won a third-set tie breaker, the no-tomorrow tie breaker, the whole enchilada tie breaker. She had to survive two match points in the third set to get to the tie breaker, and one more in the tie breaker. She couldn't exhale for an hour. She captured one of the great American moments. The only Grand Slam event to force a tie breaker in the final set is the U.S. Open, the ultimate American tournament in the ultimate American city. You want to learn about stress management? Try going crosstown in Manhattan any weekday at 5 p.m. Then go play a final set tie breaker.
I'll give you Americans. They're tough. They're smart. They're able to perform under pressure. They carry all the right charge cards, and they know how to use them. That's what it's all about, isn't it: big brass, big bucks, brand names and Big Macs? Capitalism, you're beautiful, babe, luv ya, ciao.
Write these names down: Ivan Lendl. Martina Navratilova.
Who could be more American? (Well, in time maybe Boris Becker and Steffi Graf, but I'll get to that later on.) They may have come from Czechoslovakia, but everybody has to come from someplace. Some people come from Alabama with a banjo on their knee. Navratilova is already a naturalized citizen. Earlier this year Lendl took what is routinely the first step toward citizenship: He applied for a green card, which he can put between the Bloomies and the Conrans. Who knows why he is taking this step now. Maybe he likes the new tax codes. If he does become a citizen he can change his name from Ivan to something American, like Jason, Justin or Nicole.
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They own property here. She has a big house in Fort Worth and a condominium in Trump Plaza. She may as well be a partner in Ewing Oil. He has a walled-off baronial country estate in Greenwich, Conn., where there's no state income tax. They have dogs, lots of them. She has five, including a tiny one she calls "K.D." for "Killer Dog." He has six German shepherds, trained guard dogs that might be the real KDs. (What's the story here? Can't you own your own dog in Czechoslovakia?) They drive fast, expensive cars. She has a Porsche. He has a Mercedes. She loves to play basketball. He spends all his free time playing golf. After beating Stefan Edberg Saturday, Lendl was asked if he'd go home and watch Becker-Mecir on TV. He said he'd probably play golf instead. This isn't yuppie enough for you? Who says you can't have it all?
The truth is that almost everyone in tennis is American. There are no interpreters in the press tent. Everyone speaks our language. This is where the tour is, where the money is, where the good life is. Lendl was talking about the difference growing up here and in Ostrava, Czechoslovakia: "When I was young, there was one indoor court in a city of 400,000 people. I could play one hour a week for the winter, which was six months. Then when I went to Florida for the first time, I could play six hours a day. It's a great advantage. I could see it right away." The last time Lendl was in Czechoslovakia was in September 1984. Home is Connecticut, walls and all and dogs and all.
You've read reports of parents complaining that the price of housing has forced their children to live at home at 25? Wise up and buy your kid a tennis racket. Tennis players don't even stay in the same country as their parents. Yannick Noah lives in New York. Hana Mandlikova lives in Boca Raton. Stefan Edberg lives in London, and the rest of the Swedes live in Monte Carlo, a wholly owned subsidiary of Bjorn Borg. Boris Becker lives there, too. Monte Carlo isn't that much different from Palm Beach. In a sense, living in Monte Carlo is an American thing to do ever since Grace Kelly went there and hit the jackpot by doing the one thing you can't do in America -- marry the prince.
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The only tough thing for Lendl and Navratilova here is that although it belongs to them, they don't truly belong to it. No matter how American they become, no matter how much they embrace American values, they can buy goods, but they can't buy love. The crowds have yet to adore them. Lendl is seen as a mechanical man, a player who should have bolts in his neck. It has gotten better for Navratilova. She is dancing with American crowds, but not real slow.
The crowds here have picked the Americans they want to cheer for, and they have gone to a curious source, to Germany for Becker and Graf. They like him -- he dives and tumbles for you, like a football player; he does a Gastineau when he wins. They like her -- she hits hard and she speaks her mind, even if it means saying, as she did Saturday, that Martina "isn't that much better than everyone else," and that Chris "isn't that great anymore." Graf pushed Navratilova to the cliffside. Maybe if Graf lived here she'd have pushed her over.
Within two years both Becker and Graf will be No. 1. But for now they are watching the finals here, not playing in them. The four finalists are all native Czechoslovakians. This should be a signal to a sharp guy like John McEnroe to consider moving to Prague.
