Try and try again, in the end the rascal made the grade. Last year, Pete Sampras, the “good” boy par excellence of US tennis, stopped him just before his robotic tennis took the Big Apple. But at the most important appointment, that of his first final in a Slam trial match, Leyton Hewitt presented the bill and got his revenge. At the age of just 20, the teenager from Adelaide conquered New York, subverting forecasts and expectations; but above all, knowing the Americans, producing a double disappointment for the home crowd. The first, naturally enough, concerns the stars and stripes expectations of seeing crowned with success the efforts of local lad Sampras, 10 years older than Leyton and who had made his way through to the final and was ready to write another page in the history of world tennis (14th Slam tournament won).
There was no happy ending however to a tournament played heroically by Pete as far as the fourth round, when by beating Rafter he made it through to the starry battle with Agassi, perhaps the most spectacular match of the season. After reaching the final by beating the Russian Safin in the semi-finals, the California champion failed to satisfy the hopes of those at home who were looking forward to yet another US Open victory. Perhaps he was suffering from the aftermath of previously won matches. It must be admitted however that Hewitt, the Australian two-hander, once the tournament really started to get off the ground, somehow got into a higher gear than all the other players. We shall hear a lot more about this up-and-coming young player in the future, that’s for sure! His resolute tennis style will long be remembered at the US Open 2001 as a perfect blend of mobility, tactical common sense and competitive nastiness. It would seem then that the freckled “Rascal from the land of the kangaroos” never made a wrong move on the courts. That is not strictly true.
The only avoidable and unhappy mistake (and this is the second disappointment for the moralist US public) Leyton appears to have made was in the third-round match against home player, James Blake. At the height of a very difficult game, played to the verge of a hysterical breakdown, the Australian boy said a word or two too much during a hot debate with the umpire. After the repetition of a decision that went against him, the future New York champion blurted out rather inelegantly that his opponent and the official who signalled the irregularity both had the same colour skin. Now if Blake had been white or Chinese or any other race, this stupid remark would have gone unheeded. Labelled and excusable with the long flaunted syndrome of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that transforms many athletes during the course of an all-involving sports competition.
But because Blake and the linesman were both black, hence the blunder! At the end of the match during the usual press conference, Leyton had to several times repel the accusation of racism, launched especially by the local press, and made the TV headlines with his cheeks swollen with anger and a rather inappropriate finger pointing to a presumed plot against him. Not very successful at this stage the attempts to clear himself of the accusation of racism by emphasising the multiethnic nature of his country of origin – Australia. Equally useless and naive the attempt of the protagonist to deny, through insults, the lively discussion with the umpire.
But even more avoidable, in my opinion, the putting into motion of a real local crusade against the “rascal Ozzie”, guilty of having insulted the name of the black community. Because the entire affair soon got completely out of proportion and due to all the attention it received, two would seem to be the possibilities capable of creating a national affair out of nothing: either those involved in tennis, male tennis especially, in the US find it so hard to create news and protagonists in an attempt to gain a few additional lines of popularity in their tabloids (in this regard, let me say I have never seen so many “TV faces” on advertising billboards publicising their shows on station X), or the former land of a thousand chances, undergoing a feverish attack of quest for the truth at all costs, has to also show itself to be the land of equal opportunities by hanging on to blown-up casus bellis, thereby making a fool of itself. Let’s be serious; there is no doubt that Hewitt was not at all smart in behaving as he did and was, for a moment, guilty of opportunism, but it should not be forgotten that in the past, a certain John McEnroe put on a far worse show on the courts of Flushing Meadows.
And in 1977, a certain Jimmy Connors, who was pitted against Barazzutti in the semi-finals, took the liberty of committing one of the worst unpunished crimes ever seen on a tennis court - that of cancelling a doubtful ball mark in Corrado’s half of the court and being awarded the point by the umpire just the same under the astonished gaze of our current Davis Cup captain. Luckily, we have been brought back to the path of reasoning by the protagonists of the episode themselves; those who play right down to the last drop of physical and not dialectic energy and who would very likely prefer to avoid these forced flash floods of popularity in which they objectively have to swim.
Like that same James Blake, the athlete whose name and race would seem to have been offended by the verbal “outbursts” of Leyton, who immediately put the dispute back into its proper perspective. For him all friction or presumed issue came to a close, quite rightly, when the two players shook hands at the end of the match. Or like the Wimbledon champion, Goran Ivansevic, who in an amusing press conference did even better, bringing back onto the right tracks more or less all those home reporters in search of easy scandals. The southpaw from Split has in fact often expressed his verbal inability to often find the rights words in America with which to express himself. “Once in the US, I declared having played a match with the same competitive verve as a gay. The next day the homosexual community attacked me from all sides, accusing me of being prejudiced. The next day therefore I tried to correct the situation by saying that my tennis, on that occasion, reminded me of that of a woman.
The day after nearly all the local press carried the indignant reaction of a group of feminists. At the next tournament, seeing that I was in the eye of the storm, I was criticised by a religious sect that reproached me for some rather “immoral” attitudes of mine on the court. I did not know where to turn any more, or what to do. But above all, what to say. Whatever I did, I made someone unhappy.. But I, unlike a lot of others, do not talk to gratify myself or anyone else. I am myself and say what I think....”. Truer words have never been said! And in partial defence of the nonetheless imprudent Hewitt, to free him of any blame from the rash accusation of racism, it would have sufficed to have been aware of a pair of marked adolescent traits, ignored by those who tried to crucify him. For instance, for years he has said that his favourite athlete is Tyger Woods and hopes to be able to meet him some day. Or that his favourite song, the one he chooses to motivate himself before a match is “The eye of the tiger” (soundtrack of the Rocky boxing saga). And this was certainly not written and sung by a “white man”.
And also, to close the point, that little Leyton grew up according to the competitive rules of Australian football, which he played until he was 13 when, luckily for him, his sports preferences took another direction. Perhaps his attitudes, excessively theatrical, dictated by competitive “trance”, do not win widespread sympathy, but Australian football, given the large quantity of heavy physical contact and the virtually total absence of means of protection (headgear, gum-shields, etc.) teaches you to play “clean”. There is loyalty and good faith in nearly all the tackles, otherwise a dozen ambulances would not be enough for each match. Hewitt “blabbermouth” is like that even now he holds a racket in his hand. The stadium or training pitch are in any event a battle, to be faced with all the weapons at disposal, in an attempt to annihilate your opponent from a psychological viewpoint. He was not even disturbed by the almost 13 thousand mad Spanish spectators that last year did everything possible to stop him winning (unsuccessfully however for the national cause) both singles matches in the Davis final.
Do not think he will change his attitude with the passing of seasons. If on the other hand he is as practical and acute as I think he is, after the surprising New York victory, he will however have learnt his first lesson in diplomacy. There is no doubt however that I prefer him, his down-to-earth verve, made up of occasional irritating come-ons and his fighting attitudes to the hypocritical behaviour of some of my colleagues. One above all: Mary Carillo, the highly popular sports commentator (female but not too much) of the CBS who, after the Australian’s stupid remark, immediately reproved him in her popular evening commentary show to the day’s tournament matches. “Leyton is an idiot! Before trying to become a champion he should avoid being a liar, he has to grow up but above all learn to close his mouth”. I could have appreciated this if, at the end of the telecasting of the final won by Hewitt against Sampras, Carillo had not completely changed opinion about the new champion and donned the guise of adulator of the rising star of the circuit. Always in the name of objectivity and equal opportunities (re) granted to everyone. Or perhaps in the name of Mamma Audience, never on the side of anyone who criticises a winner. Coherency, where are you...?