Two years ago, they were struggling. Now Patrick Rafter, Mark Philippoussis and mates are dusting off memories of Laver, Rosewall and Newcombe. Just when did this happen? When did these Aussie tough guys become the ones to beat? Is it, finally, primetime Down Under?
They're Baaack! By Eliot Berry, as appeared in TennisMatch Dec 97/Jan 98
Best mates, Mark Philippoussis and Patrick Rafter have lead the latest Australian revolution. Their secret? It's only a game, stupid.
At the US-Australian Davis Cup tie in Washington, DC, where Pete Sampras played awe-inspiring tennis to help defeat a game Australian team, an interesting question was asked. Sargen Shriver, founder and former head of the Peace Corps under John Kennedy (also Maria Shriver's father and Arnold Schwarzenegger's father-in-law) was paying a guest visit to the press room. Sitting in the front row in a Davis Cup-like blue blazer, Shriver asked Pete Sampras how it was that a country as small as Australia (population 14,500,000) could surpass in tennis victories countries as large as Great Britain (population 55,000,000) and France (population 54,000,000). Pete (from population 226,000,000) paused. And paused some more. Sampras had just beaten Patrick Rafter and clinched the Cup, but he had more answers for Rafter than he had for his questioner. Given the circumstances, even the best tennis player in the world might fumble over population numbers when he had just come through, one-on-one, in such an intense on-court battle. Yet despite the fact that Sampras' tennis hero is another Australian, Rod Laver- Mr. Grand Slam himself- Pete had no answer for Sargent Shriver as to why Australia, the big continent with the tiny population, has produced so many great tennis players. But the Kennedy Peace Corps man had asked a great question, for there is something about the heart and the character of the Australian tennis players that makes them at once tough and resilient, remaining carefree, different from most of the world's other tennis players. One could not, for example, imagine Patrick Rafter, John Newcombe, or Fred Stolle coming from, say, Belgium. There is a sporting attitude, equal parts loyalty, raw good-cheer and perseverance, that is virtually unique to Australia. To a New Zealander, the Aussie athletes may appear a bit American, a bit cock-sure of themselves. But the New Zealanders, who are great at persevering in tight spots themselves, a trait some would say the Aussies and Kiwis inherited from the Brits, are, at least in sport, more sober and serious about life and their games than the Aussies. Though often great athletes, the Kiwis seem to miss that little extra bounce and laughter the top Australian tennis players have always had. The best French tennis players have wine drinker's hearts but technicians' heads, an this makes for a difficult balance (see Henri Leconte, more wine than reason, and Guy Forget, more reason than wine). The tall, blond Swedes have made modesty and silence their modus operandi. The Spaniards have soul on the court, but that is not always the same as heart. There is no other sporting heart or mind quite as generous about others. They take their wins in stride and their defeats without the bitter self flagellation which is the American disease in moments of defeat. The great band of Australian tennis players that appeared from 1950-1975 and has only recently, with Patrick Rafter, Mark Philippoussis, and the "Woodies" leading the way, just begun to reappear. They are of their time but also throw backs to the Australian sportsmen of the past. The contrast between the American and the Australian attitude to sport in general and tennis in particular is instructive. With the possible exception of Rod Laver, who was a loner as befits the territory of arguably the best tennis player ever, the Australians have a completely different take on what it means to be part of a team and what it means to be an individual. The Americans have always been a bit more outwardly fierce and sober about winning, from Bill Tilden to Pancho Gonzales to Trabert to Ashe to McEnroe, Conners, Courier, and Sampras. The individual fire is always there, perhaps burning even hotter in the American champions, but the humor that generations of great Australian players have had about themselves is rare to find in American sporting tradition. Thing about how a young Jimmy Conners or a young John McEnroe responded to tension, defeat, and victory. Then listen to how Patrick Rafter reacted after he won his semifinal round match at the US Open over Michael Chang. Asked what winning the US Open might do for him, Rafter said, deeping tension at a good distance the way the Aussies always try to do, "I don't know what it would do for me. I'm still going to be the same sack of crap I am." Rafter laughed. The press room roared. Tension was defeated. And then, after saying to the press that "the person who can control the nerves better is going to be the victor at the end of the day," Rafter went out the next day and beat Greg Rusedski, who played tensely for four straight sets. Michael Chang, who could not relaz at the US Open, was so gracious to Rafter in defeat that the young Aussie called Chang a "fantastic sportsman." Chang is all of that, but he is the American version. Michael Chang, a rare talent in a small body, is also a person who because of his intense focus and inner drive tends to ride himself mercilessly at just those times when he should like himself a little more and just play. Chang is not unusual in that regard, for intense self-criticism is a trait of many great athletes, especially Americans. The Aussies give themselves more of a break. The American tends to get defensive when criticized. The Aussie has a laugh at himself and goes on to the next win or loss. Rafter, in particular, from the current crop of talented Aussies, has the right balance between the desire to win and the ability to accept that tennis is just a game. After Rafter beat Andrei Medvedev in the first round at the US Open in a match that many reporters though Medvedev might win, Rafter spoke afterwards of his chances to advance, "I'm in a very tough section of the draw. I'm quite confident, I guess, but at the same time, I know I can lose to anybody." A professional athlete's attitude does not get much better than that. Fred Stolle, TV commentator and former Davis Cup star whose own son, Sandon, played Davis Cup for Australia this year, maing the Stolles the first father/son Davis Cup duo from the same family in history, said of Rafter and Mark Philippoussis: "Patrick Rafter is the best mover we've had since Pat Cash. He is also the hardest worker we've had since Roy Emerson, who is generally regarded as the fittest player of all time. Rafter's technique is not textbook stuff, but what he has been able to do is incredible. The way he played serve and volley tennis through to the semifinal on clay in Paris was proof of his dedication. Mark Philippoussis has the big serve. He has to improve his movement. Being big, he has to be even fitter, and he's not."
In Washington for the Davis Cup, the Australian team took quite a thumping from Pete Sampras and Michael Chang. But while Pete was savoring victory inside his natural cocoon of modesty, and while Michael Chang was singing the Lord's praises more times than the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the Australians, to a man, took it on the chin with a wide grin. The Aussies were dying to win the Davis Cup back for Australia, but they had sufficient personal maturity and distance from the vain glory of their own dreams to see that they were not quite ready to do it. "Aw, Jesus," said Davis Cup Captain, John Newcombe, who along with his former doubles partner and singles rival, Tony Roche, deserves much credit for turning around the minds of Aussie players who were struggling on tour just two years before. "Pete was just too much for us. But we were still fighting, because we have that attitude," Newcombe said, grinning trademark mustache. "We seriously believe that this is not about winning and losing. We'd love to have won. But this is about preparing as well as you can, then going out and fighting with everything you have. And that way, all the other stuff is taken out. You know you've given your best, so if you get beaten you can only say 'well done'. We weren't down the first night, and we're not down now that it's over. We lost a tennis match. We didn't die." Australian players do not make excuses. If they play badly of even choke, they come right out in and interview and admit it. A lot of other top players let a loss fester inside. The Aussie players are not unlike self-cleaning ovens-they're done in a few minutes. [Julie here...what's he talking about???] They get the funk out faster than any other group of players in the world. Winning is hard enough without putting a boulder on your shoulder. The Aussies do not carry that extra weight that American athletes and many others do. Said Stolle: "Out guys like to play for their country. We love being Australian. The older and young generations can get together and have a beer. I used to look up to Frank Sedgman the way these boys look up to us. The Lavers, Rosewalls, Emersons and Stolles can still socialize comfortably with the Rafters, Philippoussis, and the Woodies. The rapport between generations is there. And we're all very proud of it." There was a time when Aussie championship level tennis seemed to have died. In the lean years from 1976-1997, with only Pat Cash's victory at Wimbledon in 1987 to cheer the Aussie hopeful, pundits blamed the pressure left by the wake of Aussie greats Sedgman, Laver, Rosewall and Emerson for the demise of the generation of talented Aussie players such as Wally Masur and Daren Cahill, who were bery good players, but not champions. While the younger Aussies may have felt pressure from the past, Ken Rosewall, little "Muscles", the best backhand this side of Don Budge and Andre Agassi, put the decline of Australian tennis fortunes into perspective for me, suggesting that the level had fallen off in part becauset the tennis talents coming through were not quite as good because Australia in the 1980s and 1990s was quite different than the post-war Australia that produced so many great Australian champions. Rosewall told me in 1990 under the stands of Louis Armstrong Stadium, "When we were starting to play tennis in the late 40s and early 50s in Australia, we had a lot less to distract us. Back then, none of us came from what you would call a wealthy background. Our fathers helped all of us get started in tennis. The courts were grass, but they were more like dirt after awhile, so we all had to develop a good serve and volley, instead of letting the ball bounce. It may not be that Australia is getting soft," said Rosewall, answering my question, "But there are many more sports competing for the same people now in Australia. We even have basketball and baseball. Back then, just after the war, we had just three choices on the weekend: You could play cricket, go to the beach, or play tennis." Rosewall smiled, remembering, "There really was nothing else to do."
The Aussie tennis drought seems at least, in part, to have been brought about by all the other sports draining the talent pool of what is, even in a great outdoors country like Australia, a talent pool limited by a population about the the same size as that of New York City or Los Angeles. The insularity and simplicity of the 1950s gave way to a larger world with big money sports that eventually reached Australia, too.
But something has happened to Australian tennis in the past two years that has placed the Aussies back near the fore of world tennis with 1998 a possible banner year. The depth of competitive tennis talent in Australia has not only marquee players such as Patrick Rafter and Mark Philippoussis up front, but Mark Woodforde, perhaps the smartest lefty since John McEnroe, and his doubles partner and Wimbledon singles semifinalist, Todd Woodbridge, a healthy Richard Fromberg and the other lefty, the "Pocket Rocket", Scott Draper, who are all contributing to the competitive surge being experienced in Australian tennis. Two years ago, they were struggling. Newcombe and Roche made some decisions. Rafter and Philippoussis were both named to the Davis Cup Team for the first time. Gradually, they developed real confidence to go with that surface swashbuckling Aussie spirit.
"Rochie and I kept telling them, 'Look at those guys in the top 20.' You people should be there!" said Newcombe in Washington after the loss. "A lot of it is the mental thing of accepting the fact that you are good."
In the early 1930s, handsome Jack Crawford led the Australians before eventually being tamed by Fred Perry and Don Budge. Harry Hopman, a good doubles player and future Davis Cup captain, took the Australian attacking game to new heights with the likes of Sedgman, the incredible Lew Hoad, and others already mentioned. That group and that Australia lasted through to about the late 1970s. John Newcombe beat Jimmy Connors in four sets in the final of the Australian Open in 1975. It was Newcombe's and Australia's last big individual tennis moment until Pat Cash, in typical Aussie spirit, leapt into the Wimbledon stands to hug his father after defeating Ivan Lendl in the final in 1987. Then there was another 10 year drought.
One big pressure on today's Australian players is gone. The past, in the person of Newcombe and Roche, is now attached to the present. Today's Aussies no longer have to compete mentally with legends they would never have a chance to play. Now the older stars are coaching the present day players, and John Newcombe and Tony Roche know what it's like to be in the Grand Slam finals and win. They know how to compete, take a beating and keep on ticking. When Patrick Rafter won the US Open he was asked after the match if it had sunk in yet that he was now considered alongside the Newcombes and Roches of tennis. "Not there yet, mate," Rafter said. "Got a lot of work to do to get in that status. If I can have a couple of good years, hopefully you can put me on that list then."
Physically, Rafter has done that hard work. In 1997 he was bigger, stronger, and faster by a full step. At the start of the year, he lost in the first round for several weeks. By the end of the year, he won the US Open and reached the final of the Compaq Cup in Germany. He now fully believes in his serve-and-volley game and keeps coming into net after almost every second serve. Patrick Rafter, the seventh of nine children, is a throw back to Australia's glory days in many ways.
In Washington, after Rafter lost to Chang and Sampras in Davis Cup, and American reporter seated near Sargent Shriver said to Rafter: "Pete beat you pretty badly. Did your loss to Pete today, in any way, diminish your victory at the US Open?"
His wet hair lifted back in a Japanese samurai knot, Patrick Rafter grinned that big Aussie smile of his, and said, "I don't think it did. But you're right. Pete beat the stuffing out of me. He was much the better player. But, heck, everyone needs a good bouncing around now and again."
In sense, the great Australian sporting spirit never really left but has been revitalized. The Aussie spirit is a balance of talent, mischief, hard work, modesty and self-deprecating humor the likes of which no other country in the world is lucky enough to possess to such a degree. The Aussies now have several horses capable of winning the big races. Pete Sampras still looms ahead of them like Secretariat. But if Patrick Rafter's body does not come undone the way the heavier muscled Pat Cash's body did and if Mark Philippoussis can find a way to move better and play as well under pressure as he did when he was coming up, the Aussie hopes of winning one at home look very good once again for Melbourne, 1998.
If not, what the hell. It's only a game, mate.
