Billie Jean King and her top World TeamTennis lieutenants—Ilana Kloss and David Egdes—invited a bunch of us press pariahs to breakfast in a suite here at the Indian Wells Tennis Gardens this morning. When I walked in, slighty late, Billie was deep in conversation with Bob Larson of the internet site Daily Tennis.
Although she’s never lost her sparkle or signature enthusiasm, Billie’s looking slimmer and better than she has in years. She was dressed in black slacks and a simple, cerulean blue top. Ilona, the calm ying to Billie’s excitable yang, was as understated and elegant as ever. These two women have been principally responsible for the continued survival of the WTT paradigm, which has proven a hard row to hoe.
The big news is that WTT has struck again. The entity that pioneered ploys as gimmicky as names on the back of tennis shirts and as high-minded as allowing on-court coaching, roving linespersons, and playing the let serve has been the first group in the official game to embrace an NFL-style, instant replay-based challenge to officiating.
Apparently, WTT coaches will have three challenges per match, but are not charged with spending one if the challenge is successful (much like in the NFL). The details on how the coaches are going to signal a challenge are yet to be worked out, but this being WTT, Billie saucily suggested that “it could be whatever the sponsor makes available.”
Larson said, “So, if the sponsor is {gunmaker} Smith & Wesson . . . ”
Billie Jean and I have had our ups and downs frequently over the years; she likes to characterize me as a “devil’s advocate” (that’s okay, to some I’m the devil, period) and I like to tease her about being too reflexively anti-tradition. But I’ve always felt that only a dozen or so tournaments really matter, and that a large portion of the winter ought to be given over to team-based competitions. My problem with WTT is that it’s been too radical a departure from the traditional game. I mean, feeling pressured to jump around like an idiot, veins popping from your neck as you heckle a visiting player, is just as bad as feeling like you have to sit on your hands and hold your breath during points. There’s a difference between being child-friendly and childish.
The format of WTT has also been somewhat problematic for me; it just seems too much like a crap shoot—a blur of faces and passing shots and chest bumps and “goodnight folks, get home safely now.” A good, serious hour of a good, serious Agassi (or Seles) match and maybe 90 minutes of Russian munchkins and grizzled journeymen would work better for me. I was dumb enough to float the idea and Billie started jumping around and quoting chapter and verse on how Agassi is Agassi is Agassi, no matter what the format or scoring system. That is, drag his butt out there and he’s going to want to win, even if you—no, that putative sponsor!—decides they ought to play with sauté pans (just kidding) and melon balls.
She’s right of course; the cream always rises. But it’s still better if the coffee has a strong, rich taste.
These are details, though, in the big picture. The fundamentals of WTT are sound. The team format offers an array of comforts to a player—especially an obscure player. As Lonnie Nielson, director of the Sacramento Capitals, said, “Outside of Moscow, Elena Likhovtseva (a former Capitals player) is well-known in just one place, Sacramento.”
It’s sad that an idea as basically solid as WTT has, over the years, been marginalized. But there’s also something admirable about the way Billie et al. have continued to wage guerilla war against the Lords of Tennis—that collection of promoters and tour administrators who keep the sport wedded to the cumbersome, wasteful, borderline-meaningless all-tournaments-all-the-time methodology.
Billie may be more of an underdog in this battle that she was even in the early stages of the fight to bring the women out of the shadow cast by the men players. And nobody can accuse her of using WTT to burnish her image or hog the limelight. WTT isn’t even on the public’s radar screen, tennis insiders scoff at it, and even journeyman-grade players often consider it beneath them to venture into the goofy sideshow that is WTT.
Billie doesn’t care, though. She’s a dreamer. Always has been.