In this series we’ve talked about how tennis in the early days (late 19th and early 20th century) was a game for elite members of society. Dwight Davis, a Harvard student and tennis innovator was wealthy enough at the age of 20 to purchase from his own funds an enormous sterling silver ‘pot’ to serve as trophy for the Davis Cup. Fred Perry was the son of a leading member of the British Parliament, and self-made 1930s-style British millionaire. An exception – Don Budge was an unassuming middle class kid who learned to play tennis in a public court in Oakland California. (If you’ve never been to Oakland, it is where the docks associated with San Francisco Bay are actually located. Few would confuse Oakland, California, with … San Francisco.).

No elite athlete in tennis’ long history probably had a loftier pedigree than that of Baron Gottfried Alexander Maximilian Walter Kurt Freiherr von Cramm. He usually dropped the ‘Baron’ and the ‘von’ when interacting with his peers – asking people to call him ‘Gottfried Cramm.’ He was the third son of Baron von Cramm, a title inherited by his eldest brother, Aschwin in 1936 associated with a Saxon region of Germany in what is now the county of Lower Saxony (created by the British after WWII).

In the 1980s, the late Jack Kramer listed Von Cramm as one of the 21 greatest tennis players of all time. And Von Cramm played perhaps the greatest tennis match in history in 1937 in front of the British King at Wimbledon, representing of all things, Nazi Germany in a Davis Cup final (WWII broke out in 1939). He was devastatingly handsome, he was blond, he was athletic, he was aristocratic (ever the gentleman on court). Though he was everything the Aryan race was supposed to be (and his wins are listed next to a Nazi flag on websites such as wikipedia [see Fred Perry]), von Cramm was anything but a Nazi.

Despite playing for, and representing Hitler in 1937 on the world stage, von Cramm was arrested, tried and convicted by the Nazis of homosexuality in 1938, served six months of a year sentence, and was prevented by the Nazis from defending his title at the French Open, and from playing in the US Open, as the USTA followed the Nazi example and prevented a convicted homosexual from playing in the tournament.

In 1939 von Cramm could not obtain a visa to play in Australia. Von Cramm was prevented by Germany from playing in an international tennis tournament in 1940 that would feature fellow German (an presumably Aryan) champions Henner Henkel and Rolf Goepffert out of fear, according to reports of the day, that he would show them up on the court. He was allowed to play at Queen’s Club in 1939 (but not Wimbledon) where he beat Bobby Riggs in the final 6-0; 6-1. (Bobby Riggs would go on years later to play perhaps the most famous tennis exhibition of all time in the 1970’s against Billie Jean King, after maintaining that the woman’s game was inferior and that the top woman could not beat him at the age of 55.)

The trophy at Queen's club (now called the Aegeon Championships), one of the few places where von Cramm could play, and where he defeated Bobby Riggs.

Even as late as 1951, von Cramm was denied a visa to participate in a French indoor tournament in Lyon, France.

We’ll never know how many majors von Cramm might have won if his career had taken place under ‘normal’ circumstances. He won two Grand Slam titles, both French Open titles, one in 1934 (Hitler had just become Chancellor of Germany), and again in 1936 (Hitler had repudiated the Treaty of Versailles, and was remilitarizing the Rhineland). The war caused interruptions in the majors, with The Championships at Wimbledon not played from 1940 to 1945, a whopping five years, an incredible amount of time in a tennis player’s career, and the years 1941-1945 are not counted in the annals of the French Open as the tournament was a shadow of its traditional self, open only to French players of the Vichy regime. The tense political environment wreaked havoc with someone like von Cramm, of German descent in an international game such as tennis when playing in England, France, and America. Drafted into the German armed forces in 1940, Von Cramm saw action on the Eastern front, but was later dismissed from military service on account of his conviction for homosexuality.

His romantic liasons included Manasse Herbst, a Jewish actor who blackmailed him for $12,000 before moving to what was then known as Palestine (before the state of Israel) in 1936; first wife, Baroness Elisabeth “Lisa” von Dobeneck a granddaughter of the Jewish banker Louis Hagen (seven years); and Barbara Hutton, American heiress to the Woolworth five-and-dime fortune (four years).

A scene from The Barbara Hutton story featuring a depiction of Gottfried von Cramm; with Farrah Fawcett and Sascha Hehn (3 minutes). von Cramm talks about being an anti-Nazi.

In 1979 Jack Kramer wrote that von Cramm’s abilities ranked in a category of greatness with such legends as Ken Rosewall, Rod Laver, and Bjorn Borg. In 1935, no less of an expert than Bill Tilden ranked von Cramm’s tactical skills and all-court abilities as the greatest in the world, and Fred Perry listed von Cramm ahead of Don Budge in 1936.

His chief competitors in the Grand Slams of the day were Fred Perry and Don Budge. He lost to Fred Perry in the 1935 French Open finals, and twice in Wimbledon finals, 1935 and 1936. He lost to Don Budge in three successive historic finals in 1937: Wimbledon, the US Open, and the Davis Cup (semi-final). After the war was over, von Cramm resumed playing Davis Cup tennis for West Germany until 1953 – a record for Davis Cup participation by any player.

Long before Borg/McEnroe, Agassi/Sampras, or Evert/Navratilova, the ‘match of the 20th century’ was the all-time classic played by Gottfried von Cramm against Don Budge in the Davis Cup semi-finals in July, 1937. Hitler was two years from invading Poland, Neville Chamberlain was Prime Minister of Britain, Heinrickh Himmler was forming a German security force around the notion of Aryan racial supremacy (a notion for which von Cramm was a look-alike poster-boy), and tensions between Britain and Germany were at an all time high. The match would be played at Wimbledon before a packed house, including the English king.

Von Cramm and his partner had lost the doubles tie the day before.

Evidently, Don Budge reported that von Cramm got a phone call from Hitler just before the tie, and came out to play white as a sheet.

After winning the toss, von Cramm began to play as if his life depended upon it. Time and again he went after Don Budge’s backhand, then volleyed the ball to the forehand side for a winner. He passed Budge on every occasion when Budge ventured to the net. Von Cramm would take the first two tightly contested sets 8-6; 7-5.

But Don Budge was younger. Just twenty-two years old, Budge was at the beginning of his time on the world stage. Von Cramm, twenty-eight, tired in the 3rd and 4th sets, allowing Budge back in the match 4-6; 2-6.

Reports of the time suggest that Budge expected to hold serve and then break von Cramm, as the German was weakening. But the German played according to a different protocol, breaking Budge instead to go up 3-1. There followed a return break, then a series of suspenseful deuce games that visibly tired von Cramm. Nonetheless, at 6-6, he began to play like the von Cramm of the first set. At 6-7; 30-30, von Cramm drove the ball out, and Budge had match point. But he could not convert.

Then came the most nerve wracking series of deuce games, twice with advantage going to von Cramm, and once going to Budge and back to deuce again. Long rallies. But von Cramm turning whiter and whiter as the contest progressed.

Finally von Cramm charged the net, was passed with a Budge winner, and the match was over.

Reports of the day say he lost all but honor. When, a few months later, charges of homosexuality were levied against von Cramm and he was hospitalized briefly with nervous fatigue, it was Don Budge who submitted a letter of to Adolf Hitler to express the outrage of von Cramm’s colleagues and friends in the tennis world.

Von Cramm was a much beloved tennis star in his day, popular with fans and fellow players. Though he doesn’t have the numbers to back up is evident prowess on the court, hopefully history will be kinder to his memory and continue to count him among the great men of tennis.

Here’s a collage of great players from those days, including Budge and von Cramm (in French, but with the visuals to provide a sense of how they swung their forehands and backhands!).

History of the French Open – with visuals from bygone times

Read about other men in our ‘Great Men of Tennis Series’ at this URL:

• Dwight Davis
• Bill Tilden
• Rene Lacoste
• Godfried Von Cramm
• Don Budge
• Fred Perry
• Jack Kramer,
• other Musketeers
• Pancho Gonzalez
• Roy Emerson
• Ken Rosewall
• Rod Laver
• Lew Hoad

There are names so ingrained into the tennis consciousness that one feels they’re still to be found gracing the Royal Box on Wimbledon’s Centre Court. The commentary team helpfully points out the faces to match the names. Rod Laver, Margaret Court, Ilie Nastase, Billie Jean King: They have become like family, like old friends.

Such is the case with Don Budge. A Grand Slam will not pass, nor a reference to “the greats of tennis” be made without his name being mentioned. And just lately, promoted by Roger Federer’s record-breaking feats, his name has appeared with ever greater frequency, bracketed alongside potential contenders for the “greatest ever” crown.

There is good reason for Budge to be one of those constants in the game. He was born way back in the Great War, achieved the first ever Grand Slam just as World War 2 was fermenting (and Rod Laver just a month old), and spanned the amateur and the professional age.

He played against the icons of tennis—Fred Perry, Bill Tilden, Frank Sedgman—and against modern greats such as Pancho Gonzalez.

As recently as 1973, aged 58, he teamed up with Sedgman to win the Veteran’s Doubles title at Wimbledon, so would have shared the locker room with men’s seeds such as Jimmy Connors and Bjorn Borg.

He lived—just—into the 21st century. Yet to modern fans, he is little more than a name. It’s time to put that right.

Budge came from good stock, from a bold father who upped sticks from Scotland at the turn of the 20th century for a healthier life in the warm climate of California.

Donald was born in 1915 and inherited his father’s sporty genes. Budge senior had played reserve for Rangers football team before he left for the New World.

Don was also bright—he went to the University of California at 18—and he was over 6’1” tall. He was, in fact, the perfect package for tennis.

As for his character, well Time magazine, which first featured Budge on its cover in September 1935, summed him up as:

“A phlegmatic, gentle youth, so homely that even his mother smiled when a friend said that, if not the best tennis player in the world, her son was certainly the ugliest, young Budge is likeable but undistinguished off a tennis court.”

His road to tennis was a familiar one. Budge tried, and was good at, many other sports, and excelled at baseball. It was his elder brother, Lloyd, who was the tennis player, and who persuaded Don to apply his fearsome bat-swinging prowess to a tennis racket.

He learned his trade quickly on the public hard courts of the West Coast and at just under 15, he won the California U15s Championships. That was his incentive to give up baseball.

By 18, he had won the National Junior Championships by beating the top contender Gene Mako, from a two set deficit.

At 19, he was picked for the Davis Cup auxiliary team and with that beckoning success, walked away from university to devote himself to tennis.

Budge was tall, almost 6'2", a powerful server, and athletic and fast about the court.

That Perfect Package

Budge had the classic all-round game founded on a powerful serve, strong and accurate ground strokes, and an effective volley. His graceful backhand, in particular, was regarded by most contemporaries as the best in tennis.

Frank V. Phelps wrote in The Biographical Dictionary of American Sports that  “Budge exhibited power, consistency, and no weaknesses at his peak. He devastated opponents by serving and smashing with a slight slice, stroke-volleying deep and hard, and driving hard with minor over spin.”

In the rare fragments of film that can be found, he has a tall, slim, fluid elegance. Most striking are his long legs and ease of movement: a certain Fred Astaire look but much taller and topped by a shock of red hair.

The sporting genes shone through in his timing and rhythm, and the package was completed by a quiet yet confident application to improving his game. This mental attitude proved to be key in making his breakthrough to the very top of the game.

In 1935, Budge had beaten the heavy favorite, Bunny Adams, at Wimbledon before losing in the semifinals to the renowned Baron Gottfried von Cramm.

The following year, Budge lost at Wimbledon again, to Fred Perry, the No. 1 amateur at the time, and to von Cramm, 10-8 in the fifth set, in the U.S. Nationals.

So Budge took five months off over the winter to change his game. Alan Transgrove, in The Story of the Davis Cup, explained how:

“Don Budge’s greatness was as much the result of his eagerness to learn and adjust his technique as to his natural talent…While umpiring a match between two world-class players, he observed that one of the players hit the ball quite hard while his opponent hit very early while the ball was just inches off the ground. The unbeatable combination, Budge mused, would be a player that could hit the ball both hard and early.”

So he worked with his coach to put his theory into practice.

1937: A Year Of Change

In 1937, things finally fell into place. At 22, Budge was just entering his physical prime with a stronger, rebuilt game. He also saw his major rival, Perry, turn professional. By the time Budge reached Wimbledon, he had become the man to beat, and nobody could.

He became the first man to win the men;s singles, men’s doubles, and mixed doubles titles in the same year (and repeated the feat the very next year). Along the way, he beat his friend and rival von Cramm in straight sets.

A couple of weeks later, the same rivals were back at Wimbledon for the Davis Cup in what would become he highlight of the year. They played in front of Queen Mary, and had Adolph Hitler listening to the radio broadcast.

Budge had already won his singles and doubles rubbers, so by the time he walked onto Centre Court, the tie was equal at 2-2. The decider looked as though it would go to the German but, down in sets 2-0 and in games 4-1, Budge fought back to take the final set 8-6. It sealed the match and the tie for the United States.

Budge described it thus. “It was the greatest match in which I ever played. It was competitive, long and close. It was fought hard but cleanly by two close friends. It was cast with the ultimate in rivals, the No. 1 ranked amateur player in the world against the No. 2. I never played better and never played anyone as good as Cramm.”

Allison Danzig wrote in the book Budge on Tennis: “The brilliance of the tennis was almost unbelievable. In game after game they sustained their amazing virtuosity without the slightest deviation or faltering on either side.”

Budge and von Cramm, who played one of the finest Davis Cup matches in 1937, became great friends.

The Challenge round against England the next week, again at Wimbledon, once more saw Budge win all three of his matches and thus the Davis Cup for the U.S. for the first time since 1926.

Budge rounded off the year with another defeat of von Cramm in the finals of the U.S. Championships.

1938: The Landmark Year

Budge’s rivalry with von Cramm continued into the beginning of what would become a year for the record books. Budge twice lost to his friend in warm-up events for the Australian Nationals, but went on to win the Australian title for the loss of just one set in the entire tournament.

The rivalry between Budge and von Cramm, though, would not continue. In a sad turn of events, the German was imprisoned for his anti-Nazi stance and suggestions of homosexuality.

An outraged Budge collected signatures and wrote to Hitler. Von Cramm was released after six months, and attempted a return to tennis, but the rising political tension in 1939 denied him the chance to play Wimbledon or the U.S. Championships. He did return to amateur tennis after the war, by which time his old friend was a star of the professional tour, but they never competed together again.

The removal of von Cramm from the scene meant Budge would dominate amateur tennis for the rest of 1938. He beat Roderick Menzel in the French Open, Bunny Austin at Wimbledon, where he never lost a set, and Mako in the U.S. Open—again for the loss of just one set in the tournament. He became, therefore, the first person to win the tennis Grand Slam.

Just as impressive, and less well known, is that he became the only man to win six back-to-back Majors, with a 92 match winning streak.

Still Dominant As A Pro

At the time of Budge’s record-breaking run, of course, two of the best players in the world, Ellsworth Vines and Fred Perry, were on the professional tour.

Following his 1938 successes, Budge also turned professional, and so was able to assert his dominance over the pros as well.

He made his debut at Madison Square Garden in 1939 and, in front of a crowd of almost 17,000, defeated Vines in straight sets. He went on to score a 21-18 head-to-head against Vines and an 18-11 superiority over Perry. Against the 47-year-old Tilden, it was 51-7.

Budge topped an outstanding 1939 with titles at the French Pro Championships, beating Vines again, and at the Wembley Pro Championships, beating the title-holder Hans Nüsslein.

The tennis of Budge and his contemporaries was enthusing audiences across Europe, and the professional tour played to capacity crowds. This led to calls to combine the amateur and professional tours. Writers covering the pro events in Europe questioned the exclusion of the professional players from the Slams. The Daily Telegraph, for example, contrasted the empty seats at the 1939 Wimbledon final with the size of the crowds watching the power tennis on the pro tours.

Some believe it was only the coming of war that prevented the move to the Open era. It would, though, be another three decades before the moment was finally seized.

During 1940, Budge continued to dominate men’s tennis, winning four of the seven principal tournaments including the U.S. Pro Championship against Perry. But world events drove a scaled-down tour back to the U.S.

The demand for the big stars of the day—Budge, Tilden, Perry and Bobby Riggs on the men’s side, and the hugely popular Alice Marble on the women’s—continued to draw big crowds and raise money for war charities.

And despite a break for facial surgery, Budge was still the dominant force, with a 52-18 win-loss margin and victory in the U.S. Pro Championships.

Indeed, Tilden wrote that Budge’s standard of play “lifted all of us with him.”

The War Watershed

Don Budge was renowned for his grace and fluidity, and in particular for his famous backhand.

Since the middle of 1939, the Tour events in Europe were being cancelled as the political climate deteriorated towards war, and the pro series in the States drew to a halt in 1942.

Budge joined the U.S. Army Air Force for the remainder of the war. On exercises in 1943, he tore a shoulder muscle and surgery left him with scar tissue. Despite extensive osteopathy, it seemed to permanently affect his tennis.

As the war came to an end in 1945, he played some exhibitions for the troops. One such series was between the U.S Army and U.S. Navy: in effect, Budge versus Riggs. The series concluded, the first time, in Riggs’s favor, and the change in fortunes continued into the peacetime tour.

In 1946, the Budge vs Riggs head-to-head was 22-24, and one of Budge’s losses was in the final of the U.S. Pro Championships. It was a similar story in both the 1947 and 1949 finals.

In 1953, aged 38, Budge did reach the U.S. finals again, this time losing out to the new top man in tennis, the 25-year-old Pancho Gonzalez. Soon after, however, Budge drew a line under his Pro career.

There was one more triumphant moment afforded, appropriately enough, by the coming of the Open era of tennis. Budge, at the age of 58, returned to the scene of his greatest victories to win Wimbledon’s Veterans Doubles Championship with Frank Sedgman.

In December 1999, Budge had a car accident, and died a month later, aged 84. He left his second wife, two sons, and an indelible mark on tennis.

The Reputation

On paper, the Budge Grand Slam tally is not earth shattering: six singles, four doubles, and four mixed doubles. He also won only four professional championships. But context is everything.

Budge won his first three professional majors, the French, the U.S and Wembley, back to back, in 1939-40. But from then until the end of the 1940s, these events were suspended in Paris and London (and in the U.S. in 1944). So at the peak of his career, the door to more titles closed.

The best measure, then, is the judgement of those who played him and those who saw him. There, Budge’s reputation makes the earth shake with more conviction.

Tilden on Budge: “The finest player 365 days a year that ever lived.”

Kramer on Budge: “He was the best of all. He owned the most perfect set of mechanics and he was the most consistent.”

E. Digby Baltzell in Sporting Gentlemen: “[Budge and Laver] have usually been rated at the top of any all-time World Champions list, Budge having a slight edge.”

Tony Trabert (a winner of Wimbledon, the French, and the United States Nationals) on Budge: “He stands tall in the record books…His backhand was what we called a concluder, the sort of shot people will still be talking about a hundred years later.”

Unfortunately, those record books will never reflect Budge’s true talent and superiority.

The Man

Hardly a piece is written about Budge that doesn’t mention his popularity, his affability, and his gentlemanly manner. He seemed to be a man of intelligence, of courage, and of integrity, who gained friends easily and, far more difficult, managed to keep them.

Take Mako, who he played in the finals of the U.S. Championships in 1938. He played alongside Mako in that victorious Davis Cup squad of 1937. They went on to become a formidable doubles team, competing in seven Grand Slam finals, winning four, and they remained life-long friends.

Take von Cramm. Each had nothing but praise for the other man’s tennis and character. Despite vividly different backgrounds, they were alike in the essentials: courteous, sporting, generous in their praise.

On court, Time magazine in 1937 described them as “technically, almost twins. Both hit with apparently effortless length and accuracy, forehand and backhand; both have a deadly overhead, a stinging service. Both are stylists whose repertory takes in all the shots that tennis knows.”

Perhaps that is why they admired each other’s play so much. After their emotional Davis Cup match, von Cramm said: “Don, this was absolutely the finest match I have ever played in my life. I’m very happy that I could have played it against you, whom I like so much.”

Budge won many friends and fans by postponing his departure from amateur tennis so that he could help defend the Davis Cup title in 1938. In the event, he went on to make history with that decision, as well as to win another Davis Cup.

He also had many friends in the world of jazz—a passion he had all his life. In 1939, Tommy Dorsey promised Budge he could play drums with his band if he defeated Vines in his first match as a professional at Madison Square Garden.

Budge won, and that night Dorsey sat him at the drums in the New Yorker Hotel ballroom, saying: “My band is your band.”

Read an excellent piece, written in 1989, about Budge’s love of jazz.

Budge played in an era when life as an amateur without an independent income was hard and where the professional tour was gruelling. Add into the mix the political uncertainties of the late 30s, followed by the impact of war, and the achievements of players such as Budge are all the more outstanding.

They were, nevertheless, amongst the lucky ones who were able to take up their lives again in the late 40s.

Budge identified the great Helen Wills Moody as an important influence in his youth, and he would go to watch her play at every opportunity. He would also, eventually, have the chance to play doubles with his heroine during the mid-30s.

But he said of her: “I thought that if ever I became a champion, I’d want to behave just like her.”

He achieved both.

Here is a fragment of Budge playing at Roland Garros: 1.40 to 2.10.

Elegance personified.

Big Bill Tilden was Americas first great champion.

Like many tragic sports figures, “the fault lay not in the stars but in himself” for tennis legend William “Bill” Tilden.

Loving the limelight, the footlights and the spotlight, Tilden shunned real life for the artificial, constructing a world he could not inhabit. No one could. Born into wealth and privilege, pampered by an over-protective mother, and held at arm’s length by a grief-stricken father, Tilden was forced into tennis at his father’s insistence.

Tilden showed promise at an early age, but he did not care for the game. Later on he avoided life by playing tennis, finding the soothing rhythm of its point, counter-point a barrier against outside emotional distress.

Big Bill reigned supreme during the 1920s in America, often sharing sporting headlines with notables like Babe Ruth, Bobby Jones, Red Grange, and boxer Jack Dempsey during a time referred to as the golden age of sports. Tilden won every major tournament he entered for six years, including six U.S. Nationals (now called the U.S. Open).

It was his record that Roger Federer onced chased, as he aspired to win his sixth consecutive U.S. Open during the summer of 2009.

Because of his fame—his notoriety—Big Bill felt he was immune from criticism and from the court system. He was openly gay, and excessively flamboyant during an era when such things were not discussed or acknowledged in polite society. His attraction to young boys was renowned, and Tilden did nothing to hide his tendencies from the public.

Bill Tilden on court with Sandy Wiener in 1923.

Eventually as his aberrant appetites increased and he was arrested, his other eccentricities drained him of his fortune. He sank into poverty and disrepute.

Even so, “Big Bill” Tilden continues to be in the conversation as one of the best players in tennis history—especially as one of the best Americans ever to play the game.  His influence on tennis remains unparalleled. He advanced the modern game more than any other player over a longer period of time.

As part of an American Press poll taken in 1950, Tilden was almost unanimously voted the best tennis player of the first half of the twentieth century—this only weeks after being released from prison for fondling and making advances toward a teenage boy.

This was 1950 and no one tolerated such behavior. It was an era when we embraced intolerance, closed minds, sexual purity and feared the advance of communism in the guise of the Red Scare.

Tilden’s prowess on the tennis court outweighed his darker nature even during this unforgiving age. The world applauded his skills and rewarded him with this accolade.

Frank Deford's Biography on "Big Bill" Tilden.

Tilden won three Wimbledon titles, seven U.S. Open championships and he also led the United States to seven Davis Cup victories. Frank Deford wrote in his biography Big Bill Tilden, “Playing for himself, for his country, for posterity, he was invincible. Tilden simply was tennis in the public mind.” He dominated the game more than any other player in tennis history.

Remarkably his fame was not achieved until he reached the age of 27. At age 26, after being soundly defeated by “Little Bill Johnston” 6-4,6-4, 6-3 in the finals of the U.S. Nationals, Bill Tilden took matters into his own hands. He used the winter of 1919 to overhaul his game at an indoor court in Rhode Island, constructing a new grip and a powerful new backhand.

In 1920 he became the first American to win Wimbledon. There was no stopping him after that. Tilden was tall, over 6′0″, with long legs and broad shoulders. His serve was extraordinary, often referred to as a cannonball.

It was claimed that his serve was clocked at 163.3 miles per hour, but most experts dispute that, claiming that not only were recording mechanisms suspect, but that the old wooden racket could never generate that speed.  His second serve had a real kick that opponents often could not handle.

He played from the back court and picked his opponents apart with pinpoint accuracy and guile as well as chopped and sliced shots, lobs and drop shots. He was a clever player, a student of the game.

He wrote two books about the strategies of playing tennis. His mental acumen is often overlooked in discussing his overall prowess on court. He became so dominant that it is said he would throw opening sets just to make it more interesting for himself—and ultimately the fans.

Tilden was a showman with a powerful serve.

Because ultimately Tilden was a showman. He was always performing for an audience. He said after winning his first two Wimbledon tournaments that it was too easy—so he didn’t play for the next three years. His last win at Wimbledon came many years later when he became the oldest man to win the tournament at age 37 in 1930.

Many refer to the artistry of the Tilden game, insisting that it was the beauty of the game that Tilden pursued more than the victory. The unfolding of the contest was much like a play and Tilden was the consummate actor who loved pleasing his audience.

As Tilden’s fame and fortune grew, so did his eccentricities. Besides his penchant for young men, he began to sink his vast fortune into theater and film projects that failed time after time. His fortune dwindled as his notoriety grew, and soon he was banned from tennis clubs and tournaments because of his blatant homosexual behavior.

He played professional tennis into his late 40s but died penniless at age 60 from coronary thrombosis. It is claimed that he had $88.11 left at his death.

It remains difficult to reconcile Tilden’s off-court behavior with his superlative tennis abilities. Hopefully, Tilden would not suffer as much from his indiscriminate behavior today with modern treatment and a society more accepting of homosexuality.

He never apologized for his lifestyle while he lived, preferring to accord himself the title of “artist.”

He said, “I am not a criminal!  I am a tennis player.  I feel awkward saying this, but I consider myself an artist, an artist of the game…I have to create…”

He did just that—he helped create the modern game as we know it today. He deserves to be remembered and accorded his place in our collective tennis memory.

[Please read other entries in our series of the Great Men of  Tennis.  To see our complete list, click here.]

A new series for a new year.  In a companion series to ‘Queens of the Court,’ ‘Great Men of Tennis’ takes a look at the men who have left an indelible mark on tennis.  The series begins among the foundations of our modern game, with the man who invented aspects of the serve, and set the stage for Davis Cup competition: Dwight Davis.

In honor of Dwight Davis, this article is posted on the 110th anniversary of the first Davis Cup – held Feb 9, 1900.

The Davis Cup has been an important part of tennis history for 110 years.

Let’s see, Secretary of War? Or famous tennis star?  Hmmm … Which career path to choose?  How about both?!

Not many tennis stars go to college.  John McEnroe, who is famously known for attending Stanford, really only attended the university for a single semester.  John Isner, a current tennis star, is the only one in the top 50 to obtain a degree (at the University of Georgia) before starting his ATP career this year.

Like John Isner, Dwight Davis was a collegiate tennis singles champion.  He played for Harvard University in 1899. The closest he came to a singles title was runner up in the US Championships in 1898.  A lefty, Davis made a name for himself in doubles.  While at Harvard he also went out for baseball and played on the sophomore football team.

Quite a few US politicians were collegiate, or even professional athletes, before embarking on a life of public service, among them: President Gerald R. Ford, and Senator Jack Kemp.  Dwight Davis can be counted among these public figures.  Davis would serve the U.S. as secretary of war from 1925-1929 under President Calvin Coolidge.

In spite of his dearth of singles titles, Davis serves as a keystone for our ‘Great Man of Tennis,’ because Davis, like Frenchman Rene LaCoste 30 years later, was not only a winner but also a technical innovator, and became a key mover and creator in the sport.

Like many tennis stars of his day, Davis was from an upper class family, one of the founding families in St. Louis Missouri.  At the turn of the twentieth century, tennis was played in society clubs, and also in the street.  To distinguish its form of tennis from that in the street, club tennis was known as ‘Lawn Tennis.’  An iconoclastic visual of the times comes from the musical ‘Ragtime,’ which depicts turn-of the century upper-class types in the opening vignette as ‘fellows with tennis balls’ in 1902, in New Rochelle New York; straw hats, slacks, afternoon tea, and a spot of tennis.

The legacy of Dwight Davis continues to shape tennis 110 years after it was first awarded.

Harvard University was the Nick Bollettierri’s of its day, with 30 courts, and the top players of the time, practicing and innovating the sport.  Dwight Davis’ peers at the time were (with delightful, turn-of the century names): Holcombe Ward, Malcolm Whitman, Beals Wright, Leo Ware, and William Clothier (US singles champion in 1906). The period 1898-1906 has been called the first golden age of American lawn tennis (the second golden age being 1915-1930 with Bill Tilden and Bill Johnson.)

Among innovations in the sport coming from these players: a special top-spin slice serve that after bouncing would break rightward in the direction of a right-hander’s backhand, created by Holcombe Ward and Dwight Davis to defeat Malcolm Whitman.  All three players would later serve as the original members of the US Davis Cup squad.  The innovation was at first called the American Twist Serve, but now is simply called a ‘kick’ serve and used effectively on second serves.

Perhaps the most exquisite contribution Dwight Davis made to the sport was his willingness and ability to commit the resources to create a competition, one of the most formidable international competitions in any sport outside of the Olympic movement, known originally as the International Lawn Tennis Challenge, which was later renamed the Davis Cup in his honor.

Tennis has ancient origins – stretching some say back to the Egyptians – but the modern game began to take shape in France and England, as well as the US, in the timeframe after the US civil war.  It was in this timeframe (1877) that the first championships were held at Wimbledon.

Don Budge and the team from the United State won the 1937 Davis Cup.

The International Lawn Tennis Challenge (Davis Cup), issued in 1899 by four members of the Harvard tennis team, was conceived for the purpose of a single tennis squad (Harvard) to challenge the British to a tennis competition. Dwight Davis designed the tournament format and commissioned from his own funds an exquisite solid sterling silver trophy (Dwight’s Pot) from Shreve, Crump & Low, a popular silver-casting outfit at the time in Boston.

Ironically for someone who would go on to serve as Secretary of War, Davis was stalwart in his vision for the competition, and for the compelling international nature of tennis. As innovative as they were, and as deep in talent at Harvard, Davis and his peers would read articles from London about the level of play in the United States.  Among the comments: America had good players, but they didn’t pay enough attention to the ‘fine points’ of the game and, besides, their backhands were weak.  Davis and his contemporaries, eager to prove the manner in which their innovations had caused the sport to progress, issued a challenge to their British counterparts, and devised the team format to illustrate the depth and breadth of any given countries skills at the sport.  Like the modern Olympics, which were re-conceived in the same timeframe, the Davis Cup was seen as a unifying influence, one that fostered international cooperation and understanding by focusing on the technical achievements of sportsmen.

It was perhaps his prowess at doubles, where team-work was more important, that led Davis to experiment with the team format.  In this, the Davis Cup, as a sporting event, differs from the tennis majors, which can also be seen as international events in their modern incarnation, but in which each individual’s technical skills are the lynchpin of their success.

The 2004 Davis Cup team for Spain was dubbed the Dream Team.

The first Davis Cup competition was held in 1900. By 1904 the French were included, by 1906 the Australians were included, and the list of participants, and the ends of the earth to which the players were willing to travel for competition, quickly multiplied.  The desire on the part of some countries to capture the Davis Cup, and the lengths to which they went to win it, are the stuff of legend and history.  We will visit some of that history with the discussion of Rene LaCoste and the rest of the Four Mousequetaries later in this series, for by now Davis Cup competition is firmly entrenched in tennis lore.

Davis remained dedicated to the principles of Davis Cup competition for his entire life. Davis is recorded as saying that his vision for the Cup must not be forgotten, “It is meant to travel. Its appearance in any country brings a flock of exterior implications very beneficial to sporting unity in the tennis world.”

Check back next week for more Great Men in Tennis with the next in the series: Don Budge. For more in the series, see the following:

• Dwight Davis
• Bill Tilden,
• Rene Lacoste
• Gottfried von Cramm
• Don Budge
• Fred Perry
• Jack Kramer
• other Musketeers
• Pancho Gonzalez
• Roy Emerson
• Ken Rosewall
• Rod Laver
• Ilie Nastase
• Lew Hoad

And check out the companion series: ‘Queens of the Court’

Rod Laver was the greatest tennis player of his era and some believe the best of all-time.

A new series for a new year, and this time we take a look at the men who have left an indelible mark on tennis. This companion piece to ‘Queens of the Court’ begins with possibly the greatest of the ‘Great Men of Tennis.’

It is the name that—eventually—no one argues about. In the debate about which man is the greatest of all time, Rod Laver is invariably the yardstick.

Even those who never saw him play, who have only heard tell of his achievements, bracket him with Pete Sampras and Roger Federer, with Don Budge and Pancho Gonzalez, with Bill Tilden and Jack Kramer.

Were it not for the five-year hiatus before the arrival of the Open era, most believe that Laver would have put the big “GOAT” question beyond argument. For if he had remained an amateur and so been allowed to play in the 21 Grand Slams between 1963 and the Australian Open in January 1968, who knows what Slam target Federer might yet have to reach?

In the years either side of that five-year “black hole,” Laver notched up 11 singles titles. He was in his prime, reaching his full potential.

Had he won just half of the Slams available to the amateur tour, he could have exceeded 20 titles, and there is every reason to think he would have done just that.

Laver’s chief contenders during his golden decade were both Australian and both formidable. Roy Emerson took the amateur route in 1963, and Ken Rosewall pursued a professional career with Laver.

While the former won their first two Slam finals in 1961, Laver took revenge the next year by beating Emerson in three Slam finals—and took the fourth Slam of the year from Marty Mulligan for good measure.

Against Rosewall, it was a similar story. In the first couple of years of their professional tour rivalry, Rosewall had the upper hand. By 1964, the balance had switched, and Laver won 15 of their 19 matches.

For good measure, Laver also beat another of the era’s greats, Gonzalez, in one of the most prestigious events of the year, the U.S. Pro Championships.

Modest beginnings

Rodney George Laver was born Aug. 9, 1938. The date is interesting because precisely one month later, Budge became the first man to win the complete Grand Slam.

Laver and Roger Federer not only share tennis greatness, they also share birth months as their birthdates are just one day apart. Also celebrating a birthday during that same week is fellow superstar Pete Sampras.

(In another quirk of timing, Laver and his “GOAT” rivals, Federer and Sampras, all have birthdays in a four-day period: the ninth, eighth, and 12th, respectively.)

Laver, the youngest of four children, was raised on his parents’ ranch. He was a small, not overly healthy boy who began playing tennis at six on a court his father had built at their ranch. The Lavers were tennis fans, and his mother could play: She soon had all the children taking part in their local tournaments.

At 15, Laver missed two months from school with jaundice and, feeling left behind in his studies, decided to get a job and work at his tennis. His parents agreed.

Even though Laver remained small—he grew to just 5’8”—he developed great strength and speed, and was soon spotted by coach Harry Hopman (after whom the Hopman Cup is named). It was Hopman who christened the left-hander “the rocket,” not because of his speed, but for his determination and work ethic.

At 17, Laver took part in his first international tour, winning the U.S. Junior Championship. By 20, he had helped Australia beat the U.S.A. to win the Davis Cup. And at 21, he won his first major senior event, the Australian Championship—his first Slam.

Big Year No. 1: Amateur, 1962

The Laver catalogue of achievements is so vast, it helps to turn the spotlight on key moments that allow the statistics to speak for themselves.

The first phase of Laver’s career began with that U.S. Junior title in 1956 and ended with the final year of his amateur status in 1962.

During that period, he won 54 titles. Six of them were Grand Slams, and he was runner-up in five more Slams.

In 1962 alone, he matched Budge’s achievement of the complete Grand Slam.

Laver won Wimbledon four times and claimed the season Grand Slam twice.

He won 22  tournaments on three different surfaces, ranging from hard in Venezuela, to clay in Houston, to grass in England.

From the end of March until the end of the U.S. Open, he played every single week: 16 tournaments, three Slams.

And this was during the amateur era when players paid their own way and made their own travel and boarding arrangements.

A modest man

It was not until he won his first title at Wimbledon that Laver felt he had proved himself: “I was looked on as a bit of a hacker…there was still a lot to prove and it was not until I won Wimbledon that I felt I could look people in the eye.”

That was in 1961. He won Wimbledon again in 1962, losing just one set along the way.

With the full Grand Slam to his name, Laver was now ready to earn a decent living from his achievements and turned professional.

It had taken him a while to get his game into such match-winning order. Laver had an aggressive, attacking style with powerful ground strokes and lightning-quick movement. But controlling his game had not come easily.

His sometimes extravagant shot-making was one of the reasons he lost those early finals. “I used to like to give it a bit of a nudge,” he has since admitted, with his usual understatement.

He had to learn how to play percentage tennis, to use tactics as well as full-blooded ball-striking.

Technically, Laver was outstanding, with superb timing and great disguise on his swinging left-handed serve.

His wristy ground-strokes on both sides were hit with topspin, quite an innovation in the 1960s, as was the attacking topspin lob.

At the net, too, he was formidable, economic, and deadly in his execution. And his huge left forearm, wielding power and speed, became the stuff of legend.

With his skills, power, and control honed to perfection, he was able to take on all-comers.

Big Year No. 2: Professional, 1967

Laver won 10 Grand Slam titles despite being ineligible to compete in the tournaments for five years after turning pro following the 1962 season.

The second phase of Laver’s career marked his segregation from the amateur tour: 1963 to 1967. Definitive statistics are a little harder to come by for this period, but what is certain is that Laver won a minimum of 47 titles—some sources put the figure as high as 69.

More significant, and undisputed, is that he reached the final of all three major professional tournaments every year from 1964 to 1967 inclusive: the U.S., Wembley, and French Pro Championships.

In 1967 alone, Laver won 19 titles, including not only the three Pro Championships but also the only professional tournament staged on Wimbledon’s Centre Court until the Open era. He beat Rosewall in the final 6–2, 6–2, 12–10.

In those pre-tie-break days, matches could be very long duels indeed. Laver’s win over Gonzalez in the 1967 U.S. Professional Indoor Championships final went to 7-5, 14-16, 7-5, 6-2. His win over Rosewall in Paris a few weeks later was 6-0, 10-8, 10-8.

Laver won on wood, on clay, and on grass.

He won indoors and outdoors.

Between the beginning of March and the beginning of May, he travelled from Puerto Rico to Miami, Boston, Montreal, Paris, and back to San Diego.

He was renowned for his fitness, and the arduous professional tour certainly needed it.

A modest player

Many claim that it was probably easier to win the Grand Slam in the pre-Open era than it is today. There were fewer players on the Tour and tennis did not have the same depth. Laver is the first to admit that the pressures on players are very different now.

“Coming into the U.S. Open, the importance of it all wasn’t that big because tennis itself wasn’t as popular. There were only 10 to 15 reporters. Everything a player does now is put under a microscope…it is so much more popular, there’s so much more money, attention—everything is bigger.”

And that applies to the rewards, too, but Laver is less distracted by the money in today’s game than by the tennis.

“The money’s one thing, but today’s game is much more physical than when we played. The ball is hit so much harder, the players generate so much speed and spin. I’d have to play differently if I was out there today.”

It’s entirely in character for the great Laver to focus on the achievements of, and pressures on, today’s players rather than his own. But the pressures under which he played were different.

In the early days, the rewards were slim, the travelling constant. There was no money for entourages to organise training, transport, physio, and the rest.

Laver drove himself to his Slam finals, had his own rackets strung, donned spiked shoes when the grass in that 1969 U.S. Open final was waterlogged.

The rallies in his matches may have been quicker but, with no tie-breaks, the matches themselves could be just as long, and more were the best of five sets.

There were no chairs at the change of ends, no roofs if the conditions got too hot, no postponements if a storm blew up.

Laver says of the current tour: “It’s tough out there today.”

It was tough out there for Laver, too, but he’d be the last to admit it.

Big Year No. 3: Open, 1969

Laver’s final phase opened in 1968 and closed with his retirement in 1976.

In Slam terms, it started slowly, with just the Wimbledon title in 1968, though he also won the U.S. and the French Pro Championships, taking 12 titles in the year.

Laver won his second season Grand Slam in 1969, but never won another major.

But 1969 was the record-breaker. Laver became the only man to win a complete Slam in the Open era, and the only player, man or woman, to win two complete Slams.

He beat a different man in each final: Andres Gimeno, John Newcombe, Tony Roche, and Rosewall.

He had also met Roche in the semis of the Australian Open in one of the most gruelling matches ever played. It took 90 games, a break to take a shower after three sets, and, it is said, cabbage leaves inside his hat for relief from the heat. The final score: 7-5, 22-20, 9-11, 1-6, 6-3.

Appropriately, Laver became the first player to break the US $100,000 earnings barrier in a year.

A far-from-modest conclusion

During this final period, Laver went on to win at least 40 tournaments, according to the ATP. In practice, it was nearer 76 because he was still contracted to play in the National Tennis League before it merged with World Championship Tennis (the ATP’s forerunner).

He won the new Tennis Champions Classic, now the World Tour Finals, in its first year, and defended the title in 1971.

What gave him particular pleasure just as he approached retirement was to rejoin, after an 11-year gap, the Davis Cup squad. (Professionals had been banned from participating until 1973.)

He won all his rubbers in the semi-final and final ties, and Australia beat the U.S.A. for the title. It was the fifth time he’d played for his country, and the fifth time he’d been on the winning team.

In all, his 23-year career yielded at least 183 titles—some say it’s 199. Either way, it gives Federer’s 65 and Sampras’s 64 some perspective.

He remains an informed and enthusiastic follower of the game, despite the setbacks of a stroke, knee surgery, and a new hip.

In 2000, the Australian Open authorities renamed Melbourne Park’s centre court in his honor: It could not have happened to a more deserving man.

Laver was never the handsome one, nor the charismatic one: and not the attention-seeking type. But he was the one whose tennis rocketed to the greatest heights.

“For something like that to happen in your lifetime…it’s very special and I consider it to be the crowning moment of my career. You only have to look up at the name on the magnificent stadium court at Melbourne Park to realize how truly privileged I am.”

The privilege, surely, is ours.

For a flavor of Laver, take a look at highlights from the Wimbledon semi-final in that Slam year of 1969, made doubly delightful by the tennis of Arthur Ashe.

In a companion series to ‘Queens of the Court, ‘Great Men of Tennis’ takes a look at the men who have left an indelible mark on tennis.

Don Budge, Wimbledon 1937

• Dwight Davis
• Bill Tilden
• Rene Lacoste
• Godfried Von Cramm
• Don Budge
• Fred Perry
• Jack Kramer,
• other Musketeers
• Pancho Gonzalez
• Roy Emerson
• Ken Rosewall
• Rod Laver
  
• Lew Hoad