Veni, Vidi, Vici!

Manawatu Times, Volume LV, Issue 7201, 26 April 1930, Page 13

Veni, Vidi, Vici!

MODERN CAESAR ON RIVIERA

Tilden Praised and Criticised

"UENI, vidi, vici! If Big Bill talks in lijs sleep these are ? the words he may well murmur as the tournaments on the Riviera float through his dreams I came, 1 saw, I conquered. True, no foeman absolutely worthy of his steel has yet appeared, but, with Morpurgo, Cochet and Brugnon in the lists, closer contests may ensure.” Thus writes a special correspondent 'of “American Lawn Tennis.

“There Is something particularly pleasing and intimate in Riviera tennis," ho continues, more especially in Cannes. Monte Carlo with its princely settings, its 20-odd courts and three tiers of balconies, is almost as formidable and impressive as a Wimbledon meeting or a Davis Cup challenge round. But the New Courts Club at Cannes, or the modest Gallia and Carlton clubs with their four and six courts, permit an intimacy and a friendliness of which, I am sure, Big Bill himself felt the charm. Although it was liis first’appearance in the South of France, many of us had seen him on those greater fields in London or in Faris,' but here we were enabled to get a close-up view impossible elsewhere. As a result I must state my conviction, as a very old hand at the game,' that in spite of the genius of Cochet, the machine-like accuracy of Lacoste, the exuberance of Borotra. there is in Tilden an ease of stroke, a speed and a power, a variety of pace and of length, withal of grace of movement, that stamp him the greatest player of our time.

tune of lucky line balls and net shot and wrong decisions, Was our hero ever guilty of fierce looks at the umpire, of loud protests of gestures of annoyance? Yes, indeed, so much so that ono was reminded of the notice that may yet appear on the tennis court, ‘‘Don’t shoot the umpire, he is doing his best.” * At Monte Carlo the semi-final of the open singles was played the best of five sets. For various local reasons, time, bad weather, the necessity of ending the tournament within the stated limits, the semi-final of the doubles was played as the best of three sets. From the court below, before several hundred spectators, Tilden called up to the referee’s balcony, ‘‘Will you please present tbe compliments of Mr. Tilden to Mr. Simond and ask him why, if the best of five sets is played in tho singles, it should not be played in the doubles?” An embarrassed silence followed this expression of displeasure. “BIG BILL” INSISTS

At the New Courts tournament in Cannes, Brame Hillyard, the wellknown veteran, was playing Tilden on the centre court and had lost the first set. The match of course was a foregone conclusion for Tilden, fifteen years younger than his adversary, a,nd In a different category. Hillyard, however, by good play and perhaps some carelessness on Tilden’s part, had reached tho score of 3 —o in the second set and 30—all. Hillyard drove a ball down Tilden’s right sideline which he considered out. The umpire gave it right. Tilden impatiently crossed tho court for the next service, calling out, “I really must insist on having linesmen.” Brame' Hillya'rd. said, ‘‘l could not see it out, but if you saw it out we’ll have a let.” “No, Mr. Hillyard.” answered Tilden, “it’s all right. The umpire gave it out and this decision stands.” He then vented his ill-humour on the ball, and Hillyard went to 4 —l only to loso the set, 6 —4. PENALTIES OF GREATNESS

Were it not for the occasional miscalculation of his opponents’ intention, or the error of co-ordination between brain and hand, we should be very near the perfection of the game. It is indeed hard to see how his best drives, forehand and backhand, his service aces and his drop shots, could be improved. With Clochet’s overhead lie would be still unbeatable. FLAWS IN THE PICTURE Are there any flaws on this picture of a very great tennis player? Alas, yes, the flaws that tarnish almost every great man. Why not admit it? If all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, all praise and no true criticism is valueless as containing only a half truth. Is it too heinous a heresy to admit that Tilden on the courts is not always the chevalier sans peur et sans reproache —the very perfect gentle knight of Chaucer? Let me give two instances and thev will serve as a hint, which, taken in good part, can only help to further heighten his reputation as a player and a man. Let us admit, to begin with, that tennis is a trying game to the nerves, probably the most trying game of all. Few there be that can bears with equanimity the slings and arrows of the outrageous for-

It was really a case of a whale amongminnows, for in these small tournaments it is hard enough to find umpires, let alone linesmen; and, just as Achille# would have done better not to have sulked in his tent, so Tilden would have shown more generosity by a laugh and a call of “Good luck to you, Hillyard,” or some such gesture. Such are the penalties of greatness—we expected a perfection not of this world!