Tomas Berdych, you big wimp. Come on. Or, in the trendy words of some of the more hard-boiled women politicians out there, “Man up.”
Big Bird got slammed in the upper arm at close range by Nicolas Almagro during a four-set, three-tiebreak win over the Spaniard in the fourth round at the Australian Open on Sunday and, incredibly, fell to the ground. If this was soccer, he’d have been shown the yellow card for taking a dive.
Yes, yes, I know. I’m not walking in Berdych’s size 15 shoes, and the guy who hit me on the side of my head with a point-blank volley in a Florida USTA district team match in Daytona Beach a couple years ago doesn’t wing it with Almagro’s pace.
But Berdych’s got a few inches and pounds on me and I never hit the ground. Furthermore, when I had lost this doubles match, I extended my hand, which is more than Berdych did, and for his petulance, he was booed off the court by a crowd that seemed ready to throw him on the barbie.
This was hardly the first time a player had plastered an opponent with a shot, and watching this minor drama unfold took me back to the WCT Finals in Dallas in 1989, where Ivan Lendl left some yellow fuzz on John McEnroe’s shirt. I’ll get back to that memorable act in a moment, but first let’s replay Berdych vs. Almagro.
I’m not aware of any bad blood there and, while Almagro has the look of one tough guy, he’s actually muy simpatico, along with the rest of the Spanish players. Berdych had hit an approach shot and was now closing on the net, where he next hit a little touch backhand volley that came down short and near Nicolas’ right sideline.
Almagro, on the run, got there on schedule, a few inches behind the service line, and cracked one pretty hard at Berdych. Almagro then leaned on the net with hand up, which I interpreted as a genuine apology. Apparently, Berdych disagreed.
Tomas never got his racket up, and I’m not faulting him for that. But getting hit in that sort of situation is part of the game. I’m not recommending you deliberately try to hit your opponent, but if that’s the shot you think you have to hit to win the point, so be it. It ain’t Chinese checkers out there.
Now, 12 years ago, when Johnny Mac and Lendl were at the top of the game and there was a fair amount of grouchiness among the two of them and Jimmy Connors, Lendl hit a service return in the WCT championships that McEnroe, serving-and-volleying, had to half-volley, backhand side. The ball popped up and Ivan the Terrible, with one of those delicious buggy-whip forehands, drove the ball into McEnroe’s chest. No question there was malice aforethought.
As Lendl turned away to go back to the baseline, he lifted his racket for a contrived “sorry.” McEnroe, meanwhile, now on his knees, glowered at Lendl. Of course, the audience loved it. By comparison, this incident Sunday doesn’t even half-rise to the same angry level.
One final thought. When the Williams sisters were teenagers, and before they turned professional, father Richard had a drill which prepared them for anyone who wanted to hammer them with point-blank shots.
He would put one daughter, then the other, at the service line and order their latest hitting partner, who was male, to stand near the net and slam shots right at them. The message was simple. Get your racket up or get a mouthful of ball.
Are you listening, Tomas?
Charles Bricker can be reached at nflwriterr@aol.com.