MELBOURNE—From my limited experience, it seems that the Aussie papers split the difference well. The trashy Murdochian tabloid mentality is still in evidence, but it comes with a less vicious edge than it does in the U.K. Meanwhile, the more serious columnists serve their opinions without the pomposity we’re used to in the States. Most important, the Aussies get sports, and they make tennis feel closer to the mainstream than anywhere else.
It’s been a strong opening weekend for the tabs both Down Under and in the U.K., what with Andy Murray’s new coach, Rafael Nadal’s fighting words, and the much-missed Serena back in town for the first time in two years. Here’s what people have been talking about in the days leading up to the Open, or what Melburnians refer to simply as “the teennis.”
This column will appear at this time each day; in the future, it will mix "Keeping Tabs"-like excerpts with "Notebook"-style observations from the grounds. Today it's all Tabs.
Links:Sydney Morning Herald; Melbourne Age; The Australian
The Melbourne Age does us a great favor by finally giving lovers of the sport a proper moniker: the “tennis tragic,” a term I’d never heard before. Really, it makes it feel a little more OK when you have a group identity. The front page of the Age’s sport’s section from Saturday features two such tragics: Aussies Kait O’Callahan and Pey Jung Yeong, posed in Rod Laver Arena in full Oz Open regalia, one smiling, the other in despair, presumably over the same shot. Not that they disagree on their fave: Both are “obsessed,” they say, with Roger Federer.
—The Age’s prime example of the tragic phenomenon, though, is distinctly male: The former students known as the Berdych Army, a group of shirtless, Czech-flag-painted “loonies” who chant for the “Big Yellow Bird” every time he plays in Melbourne. The leader of the Army, Matt Danos, describes their first cheering session, in 2007.
“[Berdych] was on an outside court, where there are hardly any spectators or seating, and then suddenly there were these 12 shirtless idiots, painted and cheering his name in Aussie accents. I don’t think he knew what hit him.”
The story’s author, Natalie Craig, identifies herself as a “recognized tragic” as well:
“I take a week of annual leave each January to go to the Open and get as close to Rafael Nadal as the law will allow.”
Hmm, maybe it’s not such a great thing to learn what your people are up to.
Elsewhere in the Age, reporter Linda Pearce talks to Petra Kvitova. Two points of interest are raised:
Kvitova bought a new BMW last year and gave her beat-up old Skoda to her coach
The Czech, many people’s pick to win the whole thing (mine included), is 3-6 in her last nine matches on outdoor hard courts.
Want to know what Andy Murray’s thinking deep down? Don’t go to the U.K. tabs. The Australian will give you the scoop in a column written by the great Scot himself. In his first go-round, Murray reveals why he isn’t gong to imitate his new coach, Ivan Lendl, and wear a legionnairre’s hat in the hot Ozzie sun:
“It’s not my style, I hear it didn’t look that great,” Muzza claims, perhaps making an early dig at his coach’s age by making sure no one thinks he was actually alive when old man Lendl was playing. “So you won’t be seeing me in one any time soon!”
When did Andy start to speak in exclamation points?
But Murray is confident that Ivan the Terrible will fit in with his team. Why? Because he’s such a hard worker? Because they share the same tactical vision? No it’s something larger, a mystical connection perhaps:
“You may remember my love of fantasy football, boxing, and the pranks the team and I play on each other,” the well-rounded Murray writes. “Apparently Ivan is a master of those things, something I’ll have to watch out for.”
In the end, you get the feeling that Murray chose Lendl in part because he couldn’t find anyone else:
“I had heard a few guys say they were interested in working with me,” he writes, “but when I talked to them, they only wanted to do it for a couple of weeks at a time. I needed someone who could make a bigger commitment.”
The press seem very pleased with the return of Serena Williams this year. They take every chance they get to revisit her famous ab shot from practice last week.
Serena explained to the Morning Herald what she meant by her “I don’t love tennis” comments in Brisbane: “I would never have gotten into tennis because I’m super clumsy," she says. "I’m always falling. I’m just not into athletics as much as you would think.
"The fact that I managed to get into tennis has always been an enigma to me—I’ve got my Dad to thank for that.”
—What’s the secret behind Serena’s abs? A high-tech training regimen? 1,000 supplements a day? No, something more old-fashioned, but which never goes out of style:
“Laughing.” Serena claims it’s “worth a hundred push-ups.”
First Novak Djokovic fought his way to the top. Then, this weekend, he said he wanted do even more. But has he already moved past all of that, and into his golden years in his mid-20s? The Age quotes the Djoker in the reflective mood of an elder statesman today:
"I already have had quite a rich career," the 24-year-old says, "and anything I make from now on would be a bonus, really."
The span of a tennis player's life, from hungry young upstart to gracefully aging legend, is a quick one. Takes about six months.