Thanks, But No Thanks

We’re all entitled to vent a little bit now and then, and there’s always something sufficiently irritating to get our noses out of joint—especially if we (unwisely) focus on or obsess about the behavior, thing, or person instead of merely pretending it doesn’t exist.

So let’s do just that, shall we? What bugs you about the game and the way it’s played or presented these days? I suggest we leave out the really obvious irritants, like the shrieking hordes of the WTA, or the ATP players’ constant use of a towel between points (you’d think that was Linus out there, pointing to a ballboy clutching his security blanket). Do you really need to towel off all over after you hit an ace? Dude, you didn’t even move from where you stood!  
Here are five of my least favorite things in tennis:  

Trick shots

I’ll be more than happy if I never see another tennis player hit the ‘tweener again. This showboating has gotten so bad that a few weeks ago a commentator expressed utter surprise when a player elected to track down and return a lob the conventional way, with a forehand, when he easily could have gone for the flashy ‘tweener.  
The new trick on the block is that bunny-hop backhand, hit off the back foot. There again, you can see some players actually alter their footwork or approach to the ball in order to be able to hit that shot, and you know there’s no good reason for doing it than to show you can. The first pro I saw using the shot was Sebastian Grosjean, which would figure, given the rich French tradition for producing players with tons of flair but incapable of winning at Roland Garros.  
And here’s another weird thing: Have you ever seen a WTA player go for a ‘tweener, or even a bunny-hop backhand? I can’t seem to recall a single one, and it tells me that as a group they’re more interested in results than impressions. You go, girls.  

Endless shots of family and friends in the player guest box

I know, I know. Television loves to pan to the families for those prized, emotional “reaction” shots. But I’m getting a little tired of watching grown men and women leap to their feet and throw their fists in the air, or lean over the railing beseechingly, or shout encouragement.  
Frankly, parents in the guest box on any recurring basis send a message that’s just plain creepy—especially when the offspring in question are past the age of consent. It’s even worse when said parents wear gear bearing the image of their kid, or his or her official logo. There’s something undignified about gazing at your kid as if he were the sun, or young King Tut, and having parents in so visible a role reinforces the ancient prejudice against tennis as a weenie sport. I mean, we’re in figure-skating territory here, are we not?  
Maybe it’s time for the tours and promoters to rethink the way they put parents and significant others on display at events. Maybe it’s time for parents to back away from the limelight that belongs entirely to their spawn. Maybe it’s time for television. . . forget it, no chance.  

The fist pump, with or without the obligatory yelp of “Come on,” “Adje,” “Allez,” or “Vamos”

Enough already. We know how aggressive you are, boys and girls. We understand how intense you feel. We comprehend that a fist made is the next best thing to a fist thrown, and that nothing conveys your determination better than that clenched fist and self-motivational slogan.  
But does it ever occur to you that your reaction is just a wee bit out of proportion to the occasion (and yes, I’m talking to you, sweet-as-a-cupcake Ana Ivanovic)? I mean, do you have to bellow “Adje!” after hitting a let cord winner at 2-1, 15-all in the first set? Do you really need to make a fist and pump it, screaming “Come on!” after your opponent hit a terrible approach shot and you passed him with two feet to spare at the sideline?  
Here’s an alternative: How about doing a little jig to show how pleased you are? Or hit a winner and then burst out with a chorus from a well-known song (“Call Me Maybe?”), or run over and high-five someone sitting courtside, to show how pleased you are with your shot.  
Sorry, but I’ve overdosed on intensity, resolve, aggression, and what comes awfully close to being a kind of half-assed bullying.  

The WTA’s Tournament of Champions (Sofia)

So let me get this right, WTA (and yes, I do know that you are looking to tap into every possible revenue stream). You have your official WTA Championships, featuring the eight best players on your tour. And less than a week later you wrap it all up with yet another Championships-type event (in name as well as format) and even call that one the Tournament of Champions?  
Are you sure you’ve got enough champions running around to make good on these events?  
This year, T of C is being contested in Sofia, Bulgaria. But only six of the players in the eight-woman shadow Championships will have earned their way in (by ranking, and having won at least one International Series event).  
Six? Yep. The other two berths go to wild cards, and something tells me that as well as Polona Hercog has played lately (she also won an International-grade event earlier in the year), there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she’ll be carded into the elite eight.  
Francesca Schiavone (No. 7 on the “Road to Sofia” table), a former Grand Slam champ, is a likely suspect. Beyond that, who knows? The official rules as per the WTA website don’t even specify if the wild card has had to have won even an International Series event this year.  
If the Grand Slams went the route of the T of C, they would dole out something like 32 wild cards. Doesn’t that seem a bit much? And isn’t an eight-woman shootout following the eight-woman shootout that theoretically ends the year just a wee bit of overkill?  

The service let

There’s absolutely no reason to see or call a let-cord serve any differently than you do a let-cord groundstroke, smash, or drop shot. I’m not sure, but I suspect that the let serve is a vestige of the polite game that demanded that if you got lucky because of the net before the rally was even underway, the least you could do was play the serve over out of courtesy to your opponent.  
In a weird way I can understand that, even if it is a hopeless bit of chivalrous behavior. But consider the flip side: Why would you get a do-over if you were unlucky enough to hit the net and see your serve fly out? Shouldn’t you have to suffer the consequences, and just how is it different to lose as a serve because you missed the line or because you. . . missed the line after clipping the net cord?  
I’m amazed that the rule hasn’t been rewritten yet. But the good news is that for the first three months of 2013, ATP Challenger tournaments will ignore the service let-cord do-over; all let serves will be in play—or not—depending on where the ball fell relative to the lines.  
But keep in mind that the outcry among pros was loud the last time this subject came up (1999). The ITF backed off the same rule change when Pat Rafter and other highly ranked players threatened to boycott the Australian Open should the service let be abolished.  
In other words, this “experiment” is, as Yogi Berra said, “Déjà vu all over again.”