Davis Cup Loss Not End Of NX Tennis Hopes

Press, Volume CII, Issue 30108, 17 April 1963, Page 18

Davis Cup Loss Not End Of NX Tennis Hopes

[Special to The Frees bv A. S. BURNS, Manager, NJS. Davit Cup Team]

MANILA. Far from being a graveyard of our Davia Cup hopes, winch the cold, hard records may suggest, this tour by the New Zealand Cup team, and which has included defeat by the Philippines, could be the start of an extremely fruitful period for New Zealand lawn tennis.

First, we are welcome in the Eastern zone, into which this has been our first venture. Second, we are good Enough to play with confidence in the zone. And importantly, at least for a time, I think that in the financial wash-up it will be shown that a short tour such as we have made can either be made to pay, or need cost very little. Instead of the depression which I thought would settle naturally on a beaten team, my feeling is more of satisfaction at having given of our best, tempered by a natural regret that this was not quite good enough to succeed.

With our preparation as complete as we could get in the difficult conditions and with only seven days to do it in, we arrived at the Rizal Stadium fit, nervous, but reasonably confident Although we might have been inclined to smile a little bit over the opening ceremony at 1 o'clock, the Manila crowd loved it and, I suspect, so really did we. I led our team Indian file around the complete arena to give the curious crowd a look at the Kiwis and I must say our essentially dark uniform contrasted well with the following Filipino team in their very sharp white. Then, lined up before our flagpole and to the rather reedy strains of “God Save the Queen,” I raised our flag. Alberto Devio did the same for the Philippines. An aboutturn, a few well-chosen words of welcome from Senor Elizalde and the two captains were asked to present their players to the crowd. There followed the swopping of badges between the two teams and we were into it. The crowd of about 2500 on the first day clapped as L. A. Gerrard and J. Jose took the court. Gerrard opened service and the first set went quickly to him; but it was not quite as good as the score made out, for some of his shots were a shade lucky As it turned out, our luck started there —and ended there.

I was a little apprehensive before the start about linecalling -and umpiring. I need not have worried. In four and a half matches, I don’t suppose there were five calls in doubt and even they could have been correct. The appointment of officials and the generally smooth running of the tie were magnificent—and I noted that the linesmen, nearly all of them young Filipino players, were neatly dressed in dark blue and marched on to the court for each match. Into the second set with Jose not attacking much but keeping a beautiful length and forcing a few impatient Gerrard errors. The third set went the same way but by now Gerrard was preparing his attacks extremely well and only a few ground-shot

errors and service returns were swinging the match. After the break, during which I found Gerrard extremely puzzled because he was hitting the bali well without managing to win the necessary points, he determined not to make errors and by fierce concentration and bending low to every ball he went on to a 3-0 lead. Again Jose pinned him with lovely length and great patience and eventually the set and match were just sneaked away. This was probably the most crucial match of the tie. The Philippines were not expecting to win it However, let me emphasise that Gerrard, playing a type of game foreign to him, never flagged. Had he managed to collect the fourth set which, believe me, really was close, I think he would have won in the fifth.

Crying was not going to help, so I. S. Crookenden proceeded to match the Filipino legend, F. Arnpon, point for point until fading light at one-set all made sighting pretty difficult.

As we had lost the second set and obviously were not going to tire Ampon, I appealed to the referee for light. He hastened up from his table behind us two captains with a match for my pipe. After the laughter had subsided, we agreed to finish this singles the next day before the doubles.

This, of course, decided our doubles combination so far as I was concerned, for with Crookenden having to play two or three sets in the heat of the day, and also having to save himself for a possible vital single on the final day, the team would have to be Gerrard and J. E. Robson against Jose and Deyro. In fact, Gerrard, now playing for some practice days in the right court and Robson, back to his usual left court, were as good a team as New Zealand could field under any circumstances.

So to the second day—and how does one describe the play of "The Mighty Mite,” otherwise Ampon? For hour after hour, he places the ball within 12 inches of where he wishes—and he knows where —and his control of spin and flight, not to mention change of pace, is. on these courts, pure artistry. A three-quarter-length, tantalising return of service is followed by a spearing, dipping shot and as the pace' of a rally builds up a long “floater” gives him time to regain position. Then follows three or four medium-paced balls, again three-quarter court, until, when the opponent is just about to move in. there comes a fast, raking shot. Add to this, shrewdlyplaced lobs and accurate drop-shots and an impassive, unruffled, cool and confident demeanour, and you have something of the Ampon we saw.

If the picture builds him up as unbeatable, it is obviously not true. On a fast grass court, he would not get more than two or three games a set from our players. Yet, on these courts at Manila, Robson considers him the equal of the best hard-court players of the Continent and both Gerrard

and Crookenden Mid that the hardest part of playing him was the subjection to the intense mental pressure imKl by the iciness of his work. I consider that Crookenden did well to match Ampon for five gruelling sets. Even the last, at 8-1, hinged to an extent on a tremendous struggle as to whether the games went 4-2 or 5-1. The crowd sensed a clean sweep when the doubles began but soon stilled as Gerrard and Robson served and returned magnificently. Apart from two bad misunderstanding in mid-court, the two covered splendidly and pounded and smashed streams of sheer winners. The Filipinos concentrated for a time on Robson as the “fresh boy” and our players concentrated on Deyro for the same reason. In spite of the loss of one set, there was little doubt as to the ultimate result, for Robson was not only steadiness personified but reacted quickly to snap volleys and threw in his usual mixture of clever lobs and chips to the feet. We left the stadium that evening with quite a lift, for I considered that Gerrard could bustle Ampon and would win and that Crookenden hgd at least a 50-50 chance of beating Jose. I was wrong again—but the records do not show the raw courage of Gerrard fighting to tie the rubber Ampon won in four tough sets on a blistering day —and how he maintained the unflagging pace without losing a scrap of accuracy. I’ll never know. This match, incidentally, contained more lessons than a book on how to play the game For one thing, it dispelled the idea that players in the Eastern zone “blow up.” Even after loss of a set, or even two sets, they keep ceaselessly plugging until the .initiative is regained. In this vital fourth match, for example, Gerrard progressed from steadiness to attack to all-out attack aind still Ampon countered with intelligent spoiling play and with that sort of disciplined ball control which enabled him to impose his game on the opposition. The final match, though relieved of tension, was fought grimly to two sets-all, when it was called off because of fading light. Never at any stage, in victory or, as in most cases, defeat, did any of the New Zealand players exhibit anything but the very highest form of sportsmanship. So much was this true that at the dinner afterwards one speaker said that in his time as a patron of many sports he had never met a finer band of athletes than ours. The television and radio commentators were instructed by their sponsors to refer only to New Zealand in the highest terms of sporting praise. This is consolation only, I suppose, but it does temper the slight sourness of defeat