I remember a famous match in Philadelphia, between Wallace F. Johnson, the fifth ranking player in America, and Stanley W. Pearson, a local star, in the Interclub tennis league of that city. Johnson, who had enjoyed a commanding lead of a set and 4-1, had slumped, and Pearson had pulled even at a set-all, and was leading at 5-1 and 40-15, point set match. He pulled Johnson far out to the forehand and came to the net. Johnson chopped viciously down the side-line, but Pearson volleyed to Johnson's deep backhand corner. Johnson had started RUNNING in that direction as he hit his return, and arrived almost as Pearson's volley bounced. Unfortunately Johnson slipped and went down on both knees, but held his racquet. He reached the ball and chopped it down the side-line for an earned point before Pearson realized he had even offered at it.
Pearson was so surprised and angered that he double-faulted for deuce, and Johnson won the game. Johnson pulled even at 5-all, before Pearson recovered his equilibrium, and finally won the set at 17-15. Truly Pearson's lapse at Johnson's marvellous get was a costly mental break.
Tennis psychology is far more than the effect of certain shots, made or missed, on the player. One can sum up such things by saying that every kill gives confidence, every error tends to destroy it. These things are obvious. The branch of psychology that is interesting is the reaction on the various players of different courts, different crowds, and other players.
There is a peculiar atmosphere about the centre court at Wimbledon that is unique in my knowledge of the game. Certain players revel in it. The majority do not feel it, and since they do not sense it, they find only the material disadvantages of rather bad light, and much noise from the stand, and dislike the centre court. Personally, I enjoy playing on the centre court at Wimbledon more than any court I have ever stepped upon.
The traditions of the great players of the past, the notable personages that make up the parties in the Royal Box and Committee Box, the honour of a visit from their Majesties the King and Queen, and, above all, the generous, non-partisan, sportsmanlike attitude of the British public, make it a unique privilege to enter the centre court in championship competition. These things inspire the mind to an almost abnormal keenness. It is this atmosphere that made N. E. Brookes, Anthony F. Wilding, A. W. Gore, R. F. and H. L. Doherty more dangerous there than anywhere else. It is this factor that spurs on J. C. Parke and A. R. F. Kingscote to their greatest tennis to-day.
The great championship turf at Forest Hills, where the American
Championship is held, offers a unique contrast to Wimbledon.
The age of Wimbledon is its great attraction. It is the spirit of youth, of progress, of business-like mechanical perfection of management, and the enormous crowds and attendant enthusiasm that is the chief attraction at Forest Hills. Fully 15,000 were present on the closing day of the event in 1919. Orderly, courteous, enthusiastic, but partisan, the American tennis public comes out to cheer on its favourite. No people in the world appreciate visiting players more whole-heartedly and none do more for their comfort than the American people. It is partisan, personal, sporting friendliness, warmer yet not so correct as the manner of the British public, that the Americans give. We have much to learn from our British friends. Yet I hope we will never sacrifice the warmth of feeling that at times may run away with us, yet in the main is the chief attraction of the American people. It is this enthusiasm that spurs on the men to their greatest efforts in the National Championship.
The Australian team, Norman E. Brookes, Gerald Patterson, Randolph Lycett, and R. V. Thomas, who visited the United States, in 1919, scored a unique personal triumph. The whole gallery present at the notable match in the Championship, when Patterson went down to defeat in a terrific 5-set struggle with W. M. Johnston, rose and cheered Patterson as he walked off the court. It was a real ovation; a tribute to his sportsmanship, and an outburst of personal admiration. Brookes was the recipient of an equal demonstration on his final appearance at Forest Hills. The stimulus of the surroundings produced the highest tennis of which these men were capable.
Yet in all championships it is the personal element that is the moving factor. Personalities are the deciding force in popularity. Patriotism is partially submerged in personality.
The Davis Cup matches bring out the gamest struggles in the history of tennis. It is in these unique series of matches that the fame of Anthony F. Wilding, Norman E. Brookes, J. C. Parke, B. C. Wright, M. E. M'Loughlin, and others reached its crest. It was the unselfish giving of one's best, under all conditions, for the honour of the country that called out the finest tennis in each man. Parke reached his crest in his memorable defeat of Brookes. M'Loughlin has never quite equalled his marvellous game of 1914 against Brookes and Wilding.