TENNIS

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 19989, 4 November 1927, Page 5

TENNIS

MASTERS OF OTHER DAYS PRESENT AND PAST COMPARED. MODERN PLAYERS NOT SUPERMEN. Commander G. W. Hillyard, R.N., late secretary of the All England Lawn Tennis Club, with over 40 years’ experience of first-class lawn tennis, discusses in an interesting manner questions relating to the greatest lawn tennis players of the world. The conclusion which he, and others with him, came to after considerable was that the Renshaws, Pirn, the Dohertys, Norman Brookes. A F. Wilding, before the war, and W. T. Tilden and W. M. Johnston (and no doubt he would add Rene La Coste) since the war, have been the great masters of the game, the argument being that any particular one of these, at his best, would always have beaten any other player, also at his best. “How do you think the old players would compare with those of the present time?” Hillyard was, and is, often asked. “In my opinion,” he replied, “the really great player of any one period is equal to the really great players of any other period, neither more nor less, and that, given a few weeks to assimilate new methods and conditions, there would be nothing in it.” The old ones might say:— “Your ground is new and your service strange, But otherwise I perceive no change; And in a month or two, I think you’ll find I shan’t be very far behind.” One of the Greatest. In Hillyard’s opinion, Dr J. Pirn, of 1 <893-1894, was one of the greatest players in lawn tennis history. He compared Pirn and W. M. Johnston, as they had the same accuracy and severity of drive, both backhand and forehand, “the ball being hit nearly at the top of the bound with a good deal of over-spin.” “So great was Pirn’s power of control that he could stroke the ball at any other point that he chose. He did not ‘ come up’ on everything and anything, but worked for his opening by sound base-line play, in exactly the same manner as Johnston works for it, and then, again like Johnston, he was at the jret before the opponent knew he had got there. A deadly cross-volley or smash made with great power, and that point was finished. The services of both were very similar, both having an easy action with a nasty swerve and cut, and both about the same pace. Pirn was complete master of every stroke, but he was particularly deadly with a drp volley off a hard ' driver and of the lob. Hillyard does admit that the game has undoubtedly speeded up to-day, and 'that the average pace such masters as Tilden, Johnston and Anderson get on the ball without loss of accuracy is greater than in the old days, and therefore lawn tennis has improved in this respect. On the other hand, Hillyard contends H. S. Smith’s punch was the hardest yet seen on a lawn tennis court, and was as accurate as any of the three above-mentioned. He was not, however, a volleyer in the true sense of the word, and his average pace of hitting was not as great as W. M. Johnston’s. Speed of stroke should certainly be the ultimate aim and ambition of every young player; but he must first of all acquire certainty, also the power of placing the ball somewhere near the spot where he intends it to go. Then let him gradually increase his pace, but always combining the three things. Great Players’ Secret. Absolute control was the secret of all the great players of the past. Hillyard is emphatically of the opinion that the game to-day is not one whit more severe than in the old days. “All I can say is that I’ve played lawn tennis for forty years, and I’ve yet to see the man who hits harder and more accurately than H. S. Smith, volleys better and more persistently than E. W. Lewis, or who is fleeter on foot than Ernest Renshaw and H. L. Doherty. There is nothing new in

lawn tennis, and no strokes or methods the great players of the past were not masters of, with the sole exception of the 'American service,’ and even that was invented over 20 years ago.” Although agreeing that Anthony Wilding was a very great player, Hillyard always thought his was the type of genius defined by Carlyle as “the capacity for taking infinite pains,” rather than what is commonly and rightly understood to be the meaning of the word genius. “Wilding did take infinite pains, and built his game up from no ver peculiar natural gifts or intuitive power, but by sheer hard work and determination. Above everything, he was the apostle of physical fitness. There was no tiring him. Norman Brookes Unorthodox. “Norman Brookes,” said Hillyard, “was not an easy man to play with in a double. He was completely unorthodox, and volleyed from his own peculiar position in the court, which was too i; far back for my taste. However, I soon found out the secret, which was at all events in those days, to let him take at least three-quarters of the court! Then he was an absolute wizard, and would bring off the most astounding strokes. Once two fine doubles players, brothers, wailed almost simultaneously as they were being beaten: ‘Oh? we can’t play against this man. He’s not a lawn tennis player, he’s a juggler.” Brookes was a very dour and detei* mined fighter who never moved a muscle of his face during a match, and I expect many people found it required a considerable amount of nerve to stand up against this grim player. He was nothing if not candid. Startling as it may seem, Hillyard considered Brookes had a. finer service than either Patterson or Tilden, because he had such an infinite variety, also he was a left-hander. Originated Modern Game. In Commander Hillyard’s opinion the brothers W. and E. Renshaw originated the modern game by their genius, and were the cause of its leap into public favour so early in the eighties. They shortened its childish period and hastened its growth onward to its present state of lusty manhood. “Like the Doherty’s, the style of both brothers was as near perfection as one is likely to see in this imperfect world. Again like the Dohertys they differed materially in their methods and strategy, Willie all fire and dash, Ernest more restrained and patient.” “Willie was the personification of rapid movement. He was never still on the court for one minute.” Manuel Alonso, of Spain, reminds Hillyard very strongly of W. Renshaw in strokes and action. He has the same restless craving to "get on with it,” hardly giving the ball-boy time to throw him a ball, or his opponent the necessary few seconds to take up his position to receive the service. sTor does the similarity end there. They both hit the ball almost before the tip of the bound, in order to give their adversary as little time as possible to reach it. Both went for their shots in the most daring and brilliant fashion, and for volleying position at the earliest possible second. Both were as active as cats. The impression they left on one’s mind was of a emposition of equal parts spring, steel and rubber, the whole fired and compelled with a restless energy of perpetual motion! In their service they differed, Willie relying on a very fast, straight service with little or no cut, rather like Tilden’s famous “cannon ball,” which, although not so swift as the latter, was quite fast enough to score points outright without his opponent touching the ball. Alonso’s service, on the other hand, is of the ordinary reverse American type, and he takes a great deal too much out of himself in its delivery for the results attained, and thereby handicaps an otherwise beautiful all-round game. If Willie had the quickness and activity of a fox-terrier, Ernest had the grace and ease of a panther, and could cover more ground than any other man Hillyard has ever seen on a court. A peculiarity of the Renshaws was that, whereas the Dohertys not only liked playing caeh other, but played their best at such times, it was entirely otherwise with the Renshaws. “Ernest took no interest in the proceedings and simply would not try.” They were equally good in their different wavs.

World’s Greatest Handicap Player. Ernest was the greatest handicap player the world has ever seen, and was very fond of this form of game. He had a groat dislike of anything that savoured of ‘pot-hunting.’ “As a pair, the brothers won the doubles championship no fewer than seven times, only one less than the record of the Dohertys. All the same, I never considered them nearly so formidable in doubles as in singles. They volleyed from too far back, and ErneSt was not severe enough. “Nine times between them did R. F. and H. L. Doherty win the singles championship, and as a pair they won the doubles on no less than eight occasions. “They had the easy grace of style and perfect command of the ball which distinguishes Suzacme Lenglen from all other players. “Their methods of play and the way they, hit the ball differed considerably. This was partly owing to the fact that R.F. was very tall and H.L. decidedly short, and also that each gripped the racquet in a different manner. Practically speaking, R.F. used the same grip for backhand and forehand, atUiougn, it is true, he put his thumb down the handle when making the. former stroke, and occasionally, slightly, very slightly, shortened his grip when doing so. Also, being a tall man and slenderly built (he was about 6ft lin and only weighed lOst), it was easier for him to get the great speed he undoubtedly had, both on his first service and ground shots, y perfect swing and timing rather than brute force. Difference in Grips. “With H.L. it was otherwise. He was more sturdyily built, and had considerable strength for a man of his inches. His shots, whilst perfectly produced, were rather more in the nature of a hit; also, he slightly altered his grip when playing a backhand stroke, and his forehand was made with a more open racquet than Reggie’s.” Jacques Brugnon reminded Hillyard of H. L. Doherty, except that the Frenchman bad not the accuracy, speed of foot, or courtcraft that H.L. possessed. R. F. Doherty volleyed from further back than H.K, both in doubles and singles, as he had not the same mobility, and depended much more on his anticipation, which was simply uncanny. He was quite slow on his feet, and yet it was most difficult to hit a ball out of his reach. A curious characteristic- of both brothers was their habit of never rolling up their sleeves when playing. Lauric nearly always kept his buttoned round the wrist. Reggie invariably wore his loose and flapping. R. F. Doherty was a man who was cursed with very bad health for nearly the whole of his career. He said he did not known what it was to feel really well. “No praise that can be bestowed on him is too extravagant. Most men with half his ailments would soon have given up the game in despair. But the way he met and endured his ill-health, and in spite of it was always sweettempered, was something one could only marvel at. 1 have no hesitation in saying that if R. F. Doherty had been blessed with the health and constitution of Ernest Renshaw he would never have been beaten in his whole career. “The Dohertys were very fond of each other. I have seldom seen two greater pals, but unlike most brothers they enjoyed playing one another, at all events in private. Then Reggie was always too good; H.L. never won, and, indeed, very seldom got a set. The difference, of course, from public play was that R.F. only played when he felt well; also he could leave- off when he had had enough. Sometimes to get a “leg-pull,” Reggie, with a twinkle in his eye, would say to Laurie, “If I could run like you I would owe you fifteen,’’ and H.L. would get quite peevish for the moment, because he knew there was a good deal of truth in it. With one exception H.L. had neither the power of stroke nor the genius of R.F., and that exception was his overhead play. “I have never seen , anyone in this respect quite the equal of H.L., except perhaps McLaughlin at Wimbledon in 1913,” said Hillyard. “Laurie could kill the ball overhead from any part f the court, and the accuracy with which he- did so was deadly. He was a past master at getting back quickly to a good lob and dealing with it effectively. Footwork a Great Factor. “Apart from his generalship and courtcraft the secret of H.L. Doherty’s great success as a lawn tennis player was his stroke production and footwork. He had every shot on the board and absolutely no weak point. His feet and body were always in the exact right position, in relation to where the ball was, for making the stroke, and consequently he never looked awkward or uncomfortable when doing so. He was the model to be copied. “With R.F. it was otherwise. It was hopeless for anyone to attempt to copy his forehand. Genius is the one word to use when talking of him. The game was part of himself. An instinct. He couldn’t help hitting the ball in the right way to the right spot. “Their stylo was easy and effortless, and they made the game appear so simple, it" is probable, indeed, almost certain, that the groat majority of spectators failed to realise the pace they were getting on the ball, or how exceedingly awkward they wore making things for their opponents.”