More stories

  • in

    Preparing for the Evian Championship

    Golfers say this major’s longtime course is unique, some say it’s quirky, but players still must go over it again and again to get ready.Brooke Henderson, who has won 20 times since turning professional in 2014, rolled in a putt on the final hole of last year’s Amundi Evian Championship to win the women’s major by one shot over the rookie Sophia Schubert.It was Henderson’s seventh time playing the championship, which starts on Thursday and is the only major played in continental Europe. It is also the only women’s major played on the same course every year, the Evian Resort Golf Club in France, which has hosted the tournament for nearly 30 years.That presents an opportunity and a challenge for players trying to prepare to play on a course that was significantly redesigned a decade ago. It would seem to make it easier to get ready year after year. But the course itself is not universally liked. It’s been called quirky and unfair, and one player, Stacy Lewis, who is a major champion, skipped it for two years.It also stands in contrast to courses for the other majors, which have moved to be hosted at the same venues where the men have won.The United States Women’s Open was held at Pebble Beach Golf Links for the first time this year. And it’s set to be played at Oakmont, Pinehurst, Merion, and the Los Angeles Country Club, which hosted this year’s men’s United States Open.It’s the same with the KPMG Women’s P.G.A. Championship, which was played this year at Baltusrol, and the A.I.G. Women’s Open that was played last year at Muirfield, one of the most historic golf courses in Scotland.Yet few players are going to skip a major. So, does their preparation for the Evian differ from preparing for the other majors? And with a schedule that calls on players to travel farther and more widely in the season than the men do on the PGA Tour, is their preparation for the Evian different from their training for majors on courses they have seen before? (Add to that the fact that many players were in the United States last week, playing the Dow Great Lakes Bay Invitational in Michigan.)“Given that it is a course we come back to each year, we adjust our strategy slightly based on prior experience and course conditions,” Henderson said.Stuart Franklin/Getty ImagesHenderson, who is two-time major champion, was circumspect in her response about preparing.“My team and I focus on peaking at the majors and work particularly hard to prepare for those weeks both mentally and physically,” she said. “The venue at the Amundi Evian Championship, like all major courses, is unique and really tests all aspects of your game in different ways. Given that it is a course we come back to each year, we adjust our strategy slightly based on prior experience and course conditions.”Other players, particularly those who aren’t major champions, think about these weeks differently.“We always circle the majors to try to peak during those certain tournaments,” said Ally Ewing, a three-time winner on the L.P.G.A. Tour. “I’m a process person. I want to be ready in the spring to play solid golf at the Evian. There are a lot of things that go into competing in a golf tournament there. I circle those dates.”Ewing, who tied for 30th at the Evian her rookie season in 2016, said her focus this week had always been on controlling what she could put into preparing.“All three of my wins have been brand-new golf courses for me,” Ally Ewing said. “Getting to a golf course where I have no past recollection of, I feel like rookies get to an event and they have this cram mind-set.”Stuart Franklin/Getty Images“It goes back to the hours I put in at age 14 to make sure the ball position was always the same place and that my putting stroke was repetitive,” she said. “It’s about a solid base. My prep should be focused on my tempo and knowing my way around the course. I need to dial in the speed on the greens and learn where to place on our approach shots.”In that sense, the memory of returning to the Evian each year helps with some of the variables.“All three of my wins have been brand-new golf courses for me,” she said. “Getting to a golf course where I have no past recollection of — I feel like rookies get to an event and they have this cram mind-set.”“When I get to the Evian and there are a ton of side-hill lies, I’m working on creating comfort where I am. Every golf course is going to play differently, but I’m the same.”For Ewing, it comes down to strategy, whether she’s played a major course a half dozen times, like at the Evian, or if it’s her first time at a venue.“Sometimes, it’s simply looking and asking, do the greens have a lot of pitch back to front,” she said. “Do we want to be below the hole to score? Or on a course with a lot of runoff areas, we need to pay attention to the spots where we can miss. Let’s leave ourselves a chance to make birdie or, worst case, a par.”She added: “As a professional, we miss shots. I miss some shots left and some shots right.”“I have yet to figure that course out,” Lizette Salas, who is in her 13th season on tour, said. “It’s definitely a challenging golf course, as far as the layout. You’re hardly ever going to get a flat lie at the Evian Championship.”Stuart Franklin/Getty ImagesLizette Salas, who is in her 13th season on tour, hasn’t always liked playing at the Evian.“I have yet to figure that course out,” she said. “It’s definitely a challenging golf course, as far as the layout. You’re hardly ever going to get a flat lie at the Evian Championship. Also, the weather is a very big factor to determine how low we can go for that week. I feel there’s only so much you can do to that golf course, other than tear it completely down.”She admits that some courses just don’t suit a player’s eye, or they’re places that they’ve not always played well at. “But as the purses continue to rise, that just encourages us not to suck it up, but to take it as a new challenge and try to make it work.”In eight appearances at the Evian, her best finish was her first time, tied for 11th in 2013.For Salas, playing well in a major is about the prep work.“I definitely prepare differently today,” she said. “In my earlier years, my goal was to play the course as many times as possible. But I realized it’s not a sprint; it’s a marathon. Today I like to play the course no more than twice ahead of time and focus on the main trends of the course.“It’s a course we’ve seen over and over again, but we don’t have the luxury of getting there early because of our schedules. If you like a course more than others, it dictates your practice schedule.”At this month’s U.S. Women’s Open, she went to Pebble Beach a month early. “I got to play an afternoon and a morning round to see the wind tendencies,” she said.As the defending champion at the Dow Great Lakes Bay Invitational, Salas played that tournament in Michigan and then flew to France to get ready for the Evian.But one thing that doesn’t change is her emphasis on what she calls “boring golf.” “You’re not trying to hit a ton of balls” to prepare, she said. “You’re just trying to understand the golf course. Is there any insight on how to play this course the best way?”For others, though, they try to block out the magnitude of the event and play the week like any other tournament.“You just have to go into it thinking it’s just another event,” said Jessica Korda, who has missed the cut three times at the Evian, “because that’s exactly what it is at the end of the day.” More

  • in

    For Natalie Gulbis, the Thrill of Winning the Evian in 2007

    It was her lone tournament win, and she remembers the relief of getting that first one.Like two other long-ago visitors to France, Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, who always had Paris in the 1942 movie “Casablanca,” Natalie Gulbis of the United States, a longtime member of the L.P.G.A. Tour, can say she will always have Evian.Gulbis, who three times played in the Solheim Cup, a biennial tournament in which a European team plays an American team, registered her lone tour victory at the Evian Masters in 2007, beating Jang Jeong of South Korea by two-putting from 25 feet for a birdie on the first playoff hole. Trailing Juli Inkster by four shots heading into the final round, she closed with a two-under 70.Gulbis, 40, who plays very few tournaments these days and has undergone multiple back surgeries, reflected recently on her victory in France.The conversation has been edited and condensed.What stands out about that week in 2007?The relief that I could win a tournament. I had worked so hard to become a tour professional, and I had finished second one too many times before. And that event is so incredibly special. I was paired with Annika [Sorenstam], who was one of my best friends on tour.What do you recall about the playoff hole?I remember trying to focus on hitting it [her second shot] solid and making sure that I carried the water and gave myself a chance. My caddie gave me less club. He knew that players who get in contention always have extra adrenaline.What’s so special about the Evian event?It’s in this most beautiful place up in the hills overlooking Lake Geneva, the golf course is incredible, and just the way they treat you from start to finish. It’s really the closest thing we have to the Masters.Any explanation for why it was your only tour victory?No. And I don’t even think about it unless somebody asks. I really don’t. When I look back at my career, the most fun and memorable events have been team events. It would be interesting to see how I would feel if I had won 10 [individual] events. I don’t know if I’d sit here feeling significantly different.“The opportunity to be a professional athlete is so special, and I just don’t take that for granted. To compete all over the world and play for an organization like the L.P.G.A. has far exceeded any expectation I could have ever imagined,” Gulbis said.Harry How/Getty ImagesSo you’re not disappointed?I think I’d feel guilty if I felt disappointed. The opportunity to be a professional athlete is so special, and I just don’t take that for granted. To compete all over the world and play for an organization like the L.P.G.A. has far exceeded any expectation I could have ever imagined.What’s the state of the tour these days?In 2023, we’re playing for $101 million, 33 events. Absolutely crazy if I would have thought 10 years ago that the L.P.G.A. would be playing for over $100 million in a season.What’s the most nervous you ever were in a Solheim Cup?In Sweden in 2007, I was the anchor match [in the final group]. And then, that morning, I thought, ‘What did I commit to?’ That means it could come down to my match. It didn’t, and I ended up winning my match anyway.Are you excited about being an assistant to captain Stacy Lewis at this fall’s Solheim Cup in Spain?I am excited. It is a very different experience being a captain than it is being a player, and I think I’m going be even more nervous as a captain. Stacy has worked so hard, and she is so committed to try to get that cup back, and I just want to help her in any way I can.Would you want to be a captain yourself some day?I’m not sure. I don’t like to say until I have completely seen what it’s like to be an assistant captain all the way through.What was the biggest impact your instructor, Butch Harmon, made on you?Everything. How much time do you have? I started working with him when I was 18, and what he has done for me, on and off the golf course, it’s amazing. He’s helped me in every aspect of being a professional golfer, and it’s so much more than competing. He is such a huge fan of women’s golf, and I’m so grateful I’ve had the opportunity to work with him for 20 years. More

  • in

    A Continental Competition, All in One Neighborhood

    At the eight-minute mark of the final of the CAN 18 soccer tournament, the players on the Mauritania team score three times in rapid succession.The balls hitting the goalkeeper’s small net sound like the blasts of a cannon. Boom. Boom. Boom. The last two happen so quickly that many in the crowd miss them.“Did they score?” the Ivory Coast fan squished next to me asks, looking stunned. “Yes, twice,” a Mauritanian fan on my other side responds gleefully.It doesn’t take long to understand that the annual soccer tournament of Paris’s 18th arrondissement is different: The stadium is a small, caged turf court in the middle of the Goutte d’Or — the dense, working-class landing spot for each new wave of immigrants to the city, a place where African wax stores and tailors for boubous compete with boulangeries and bistros among the crowded streets.The tournament was one of many around Paris inspired by the 2019 edition of the Africa Cup of Nations, or Coupe d’Afrique des nations in French, the continental competition typically held every two years. The events have become so popular that the finals of one in Créteil, a southeastern suburb of Paris, were broadcast on Amazon Prime last summer.Mamoudou Camara floated the idea for the tournament on Snapchat in the summer of 2019. This year’s edition had 16 teams.In the Goutte d’Or, Mamoudou Camara’s principal aim wasn’t to shine a positive light on immigration and community spirit in his neighborhood, which is tucked behind the Gare du Nord — Europe’s busiest train station — and is among the city’s most impoverished, gritty and diverse areas. He was just thinking a tournament might help his friends survive the hot nights during Ramadan. He raised the idea on Snapchat, and by the end of that evening in summer 2019, six teams had registered. A day later, there were six more.Instead of holding the event in a far-off stadium, Camara and his friends decided to host it in their childhood nest, the mini court in the center of the urban park where they spent their summer nights and weekends, battling over a ball and rounds of Coca-Cola or Fanta. (The loser paid.)It offers a very different atmosphere than the marble statues and the manicured flower beds of the Tuileries and Luxembourg gardens. On game nights, the park, Square Léon, is buzzing with older men crowded around checker tables, little kids clambering up playground equipment and older women in West African dresses selling bags of homemade doughnuts and slushy ginger drinks that both tickle and soothe the throat.Just before the final match starts, a tambour player beats out rhythms.“In our neighborhood, we have all nationalities,” said Camara, 26. “We are proud to say we are multicultural.”Around 30 percent of the 21,000 residents in this neighborhood were immigrants or foreigners in 2019, according to France’s national statistics institute.Sixteen teams registered this year, the event’s fourth edition, to play 31 games over three weeks. On this June night, we are down to the finals. The Ivory Coast, a veteran team that won the inaugural tournament in 2019, is back in its orange and green jerseys, trying to reclaim the title. Challenging them is Mauritania — a team packed with young players, many of them semiprofessionals, wearing yellow and brown. The jerseys were created by a celebrated local designer who collaborates with Nike, and who has been invited to the presidential palace.The teams for Cameroon and Tunisia before their match. A local designer who has collaborated with Nike created the uniforms for the 2023 tournament.“For me, CAN is one of those moments when the neighborhood can revel in being a bit exceptional,” said Éric Lejoindre, the mayor of the 18th arrondissement.It is just one sign of how the tournament has matured. This year, the neighborhood city hall provides a small grandstand on one side of the court. Everywhere else, spectators stand, claiming their spots a good hour before the game begins.By the time the referee blows his whistle, we are standing eight rows thick.The court measures just 25 meters by 16.5 meters — about 82 feet by 54 feet — roughly one-seventeenth of FIFA’s recommended field size. It is framed by a low concrete wall, topped by a tall chain link fence.The confined area makes for an intense game of precision, tight tricks, bursts of speed and a blasting ball that echoes against the walls and crashes into the fence every few minutes.This is soccer by inches, with a team losing and gaining the ball within seconds.Camara and other organizers devised the rules: five players per team on the court; no offside; corner kicks are thrown in; any foul after the fifth within a half results in a penalty kick; and games last 30 minutes to an hour, depending on their importance.Two people livestream matches, and another camera is rolling for the referee to review plays.The first year, all players had to be locals, but the rules have since loosened, allowing players from elsewhere to participate. But those who grew up competing on the court quickly reveal themselves by using the side walls to their advantage, bouncing passes around defenders to their teammates and back to themselves.Martin Riedler, who three years ago formed the tournament’s French team, compared it to a boxing ring.The playing surface is much smaller than that of a full-size soccer field. “You have to be on your toes the whole time, which makes the experience so intense,” one player said.“You have to be on your toes the whole time, which makes the experience so intense,” said Riedler, who attended Santa Clara University in California on a soccer scholarship. He has packed his team with elite players who can hit the cross bar from the halfway line of a full field, but who also find the arena overwhelming. “You know you won’t sleep at night after a game.”Players slam each other to the turf, then pick one another up. They continually battle against the wall, so close that a spectator might graze them through the fence. They offer up-close renditions of spectacular maneuvers, flicking the ball over their opponents’ heads and spinning it around their feet. That is one of the beauties of a small court, the referee Bengaly Souré tells me. It’s a compression chamber of technical plays.“There’s no space, but they create space,” he said.When a player jumps and kicks the ball into the net midair, Souré turns to the fence and expresses his admiration.The crowd is part of the fun. Spectators shout their observations over the sounds of African beats, booming from loudspeakers. It is agreed that the player wearing No. 7 for Mauritania — who plays for a team in Italy — is a dangerous force. And though the Ivory Coast falls increasingly behind, the game could turn at any moment.The Guinea-Bissau team before a match.Some people claim their spots an hour before the match.“I’ve seen a team that’s losing 4-1 make a comeback,” said Makenzy Kapaya, a 37-year-old artist who grew up in the Goutte d’Or but later relocated to a less cramped apartment elsewhere. Like many in the crowd, he has returned to watch the games and to reunite with childhood friends.“If you have problems, people will help you here, no matter what your origins,” Kapaya said. The Goutte d’Or, a dense, working-class area, often makes news for unflattering reasons — drugs, prostitution, violence. The library closed for months three years ago because employees said they had been repeatedly threatened by dealers selling near its doors. Following the fatal police shooting of 17-year-old Nahel Merzouk this summer and the subsequent protests across the country, the local police station was attacked.Éric Lejoindre, the mayor of the 18th arrondissement, pointed out that local volunteers had been quietly helping with homework, cooking and housing for years. A group of therapists in the Goutte d’Or hold regular listening sessions, setting out chairs in an abandoned lot for passers-by to unload their burdens.For all its problems, the neighborhood has huge heart, Lejoindre said.“Locals know it, but sometimes we need it to emerge in a spectacular fashion,” he said. “For me, CAN is one of those moments when the neighborhood can revel in being a bit exceptional.”Mauritania went on a scoring outburst as night fell.After halftime, the Ivory Coast players rally, bringing the score to 9-7. But then Mauritania yanks the plug from their energy and dreams. As the sky dims into an inky night, and spectators hold up their phones as lanterns, Mauritania scores again. And again. And again. Boom, boom, boom. The players start to do little dances after each goal.When Souré blows his whistle for full time, a crowd surges onto the tiny court to embrace the young Mauritanian team in a squealing cyclone of joy.Camara, who will take a few weeks off before beginning preparations for next year’s event, said he was continually surprised by how much joy the little tournament had brought to the neighborhood. At a time when anti-immigration sentiments are growing and identity politics are flaring in France, he said he considered it a unifying event. “We thought we were just starting something for fun,” he said, “but we created something bigger.”Red and white fireworks burst above the little park in the heart of the Goutte d’Or. The celebration will continue for hours.Spectators applauded Mauritania’s victory against Ivory Coast.Juliette Guéron-Gabrielle More

  • in

    The Exclusive, Elusive World of Real Tennis

    Up on the second floor, hidden behind the facade of a tall Haussmann building not far from the Arc de Triomphe, is the Jeu de Paume Club, the only active court tennis club in Paris.The members of the club, like the players at Wimbledon in England, are dressed all in white, and they call out the scores “quinze!” and “trente!” just the same as the umpires a few miles west, at Roland Garros, where the French Open is being played through June 11.Modern tennis, or lawn tennis, which was formally invented in England in the 1870s, bears many of the traces of court tennis, not least the basic vocabulary of scoring, even if no one has definitively proven if it is referenced from medieval horological sources or the paces that a player advanced when he won a point in the game of longue paume, the ancestor of most racket sports but particularly lawn tennis, which has been played in villages across France since the 13th century.Court tennis, also known as real tennis, developed 200 years later, according to Gil Kressmann, a historian and the honorary president of the Jeu de Paume Club, as cities evolved in France and walled courts replaced the large open spaces previously used for longue paume. The sport took off across Europe and Britain, where it was championed by Henry VIII.A match in the court tennis French Junior Open, in the under-17 category, played in the Palace of Fontainebleau.Matthieu Sarlangue, the top-ranked French court tennis player, is No. 10 in the world.The courts in France then, as today, were managed by professionals known as maîtres paumiers, who performed in matches, gave lessons and made the balls and rackets. As for the last requirement, Guillaume Dortu, the current club professional at the Palace of Fontainebleau, did not hide his relief that “mercifully, professionals don’t have to do that today.”But he and other club pros like Rod McNaughtan in Paris are the only people allowed to sell court tennis rackets, which are still constructed of wood. Each month, they make 100 to 150 balls, carefully weighing the hard core of cork and cotton webbing before stitching the thick yellow felt exterior by hand. They also clean the court daily.Enthusiasm for the game started to wane at the end the 17th century, and it was linked to gambling and less salubrious events such as when the Italian painter Michelangelo Merisi, better known as Caravaggio, killed an opponent on a tennis court in Rome in 1606, leading to his being banished from the city. In France, the game’s popularity suffered under Louis XIV, whose heavy physique discouraged him from playing. He was keener on billiards.Rod McNaughtan is the professional at the Jeu de Paume Club, the only active court tennis club in Paris.The French Revolution, which began in 1789, distracted from the game, though one of the revolution’s founding moments, the Tennis Court Oath, took place in the tennis court at Versailles, where deputies convened after being locked out of the palace, swearing not to disband until France had a constitution.Today, the sport is played competitively in the four countries that also make up tennis’s Grand Slam: France, where the game is known as jeu de paume; Britain and Australia, where it goes by real tennis; and the United States, home of the current men’s world champion, Camden Riviere. There are just over 50 courts in the world, and the prohibitive cost of constructing new courts is a major issue. While the game is gaining in popularity, there are only around 10,000 active players.Whatever they might lack in numbers, court tennis players make up for with enthusiasm. When asked to describe the sport, they most frequently compare it to chess and say its cerebral demands are as important, if not more so, than the physical ones.Players take pride in the esoteric nature of the game as well as its asymmetrical court with buttress, galleries, numerous nooks and crannies with odd names and the fact that no two courts in the world are exactly the same. Therein lies the challenge for players like Matthieu Sarlangue, who is ranked No. 10 in the world and is a 13-time French amateur champion. “Technically it’s very difficult and demanding,” he said. “You really have to master the tactics because there are so many options on the court.”McNaughtan makes about 120 tennis balls a month.The game is a sporting conundrum, one that Martin Village, a 70-year-old court tennis enthusiast from London and member of the Dedanists’ Society, a small group of British players dedicated to the history of the sport, explained simply.“If you wanted to design a game that was going to put people off from playing it,” he said, “you would probably design a real tennis court. But that’s why it is a source of endless fascination.”The building housing the tennis club at the Palace of Fontainebleau.The site of the tennis court at Versailles, where the Tennis Court Oath was sworn in 1789.Participants in the French Junior Open, clockwise from top left: Wandé Blanchot, 13; Hart Cordell, 10; Anatole de Beaumont, 16; and Paul Rigaud-Gérard, 11.A spectator took in a match at the French Junior Open in the under-13 category.Hart Cordell preparing for a match in the French Junior Open in the under-13 category. More

  • in

    At Roland Garros, the French Get Behind Their Own

    Had you been at Roland Garros around supper time Wednesday evening and heard the crowd of nearly 10,000 fans chanting Lucas Pouille’s name at a near deafening level, you would have assumed you had just missed a triumphant performance.Not even close. Pouille, a 29-year-old Frenchman, on the court named for Suzanne Lenglen, the French tennis star of the 1920s, lost in straight sets to Cameron Norrie, a Briton to add insult to injury, in less than two hours.No matter.For 105 minutes, the French faithful had serenaded Pouille and met his every winner with rousing roars. A four-piece band with a horn and a bass drum tooted and banged away between points. If you are French at the French Open, it’s what you do.Each of the four Grand Slam tournaments has its unique charms and intangible quirks, rhythms and characteristics.Fans waited for the Frenchman Arthur Fils to sign autographs after his first-round match on Monday.Pete Kiehart for The New York TimesFrench flags fluttered in the stands during the Fils match.Pete Kiehart for The New York TimesThe Australian Open is a two-week summertime party held when much of the world is shivering. Wimbledon has its mystique, the sense that the grass, especially on Centre Court, is hallowed ground, and the hear-a-pin-drop silence of the most proper of crowds. The U.S. Open delivers noisy chaos, the rattle of New York’s subways and the teeming crowds that joyfully ignore the idea that big-time tennis is supposed to unfold amid quiet.Roland Garros’s signature is the near limitless abandon with which the French fans unite behind anyone who plays under the bleu-blanc-rouge as the French standard is known. There are spontaneous renditions of the French national anthem, “La Marseillaise,” as though they are at Humphrey Bogart’s cafe in “Casablanca.”This happened after Pouille, once ranked 10th in the world and currently 675th following struggles with injuries and depression, beat Jurij Rodionov of Austria in the first round in waning light Sunday.“It made me want to keep working to get back and experience it again,” said Pouille, who stayed and listened to the serenade.When a French player is on the court — any French player, on any court — there is a distinctly louder, higher-pitched and fuller sound that rises from the stands. It’s like the crescendo of a symphony, over and over, hour after hour.Supporters of Alice Robbe of France serenaded her during a qualifying match last week.Pete Kiehart for The New York TimesFils enjoyed the crowd’s backing after winning a game during his first-round match.Pete Kiehart for The New York TimesAmazingly, it keeps going on even though the French have been mostly terrible at this event for a long while — or maybe that’s why it happens. A Frenchman has not won the singles tournament since Yannick Noah in 1983, or made the final since Henri Leconte in 1988. A Frenchwoman has not won since Mary Pierce in 2000, which was also the last time the country was represented in the women’s singles final.Albert Camus, the French philosopher, famously wrote that we must consider Sisyphus, the Greek mythology figure, to be happy, even though he spends his life repeatedly pushing a rock uphill because “the struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart.”Camus would have made a perfect modern French tennis fan.The zenith of this tournament for the French came Tuesday night as Gael Monfils, whose Gumby-like athleticism and ambivalent relationship with the sport have made him a tennis folk hero, came back from the brink to beat Sebastian Baez of Argentina in five sets.Monfils, 36, who has been battling injuries and played little the past year, cramped so badly in the fifth set he could barely walk. He fell behind by 4-0, but the crowd never relented and willed him back to life. The roars at the main court, Philippe Chatrier, could be heard more than a mile away. It was obvious what was unfolding simply by opening a bedroom window.Monfils told the crowd the victory was as much theirs as his after he prevailed 3-6, 6-3, 7-5, 1-6, 7-5.The ecstasy ride ended 24 hours later when Monfils called a late-night news conference to announce his withdrawal from the tournament because of a wrist injury.Caroline Garcia, seeded fifth, seemed to be the French’s best hope of having their first women’s singles finalist since 2000.James Hill for The New York TimesGarcia lost her second-round match to Anna Blinkova of Russia in three sets, despite the encouragement of the crowd.James Hill for The New York TimesIt came at the end of an awful day for the French players, who dropped all their singles matches. That included Caroline Garcia, the fifth seed and the only seeded Frenchwoman.Garcia had spoken earlier in the week of trying to capture the enthusiasm of the crowd and use it to her advantage. In the past, she has experienced it as pressure that has caused her to disappoint in front of the hometown fans. She has never made it past the quarterfinals.“I try and take all of this energy,” she had said of the support. “It’s a great opportunity.”No such luck. Garcia was cruising, up a set and a break in her second-round match Wednesday against Anna Blinkova of Russia. But she tightened up and frittered away the lead. The crowd helped her draw even at 5-5 in the third set, rattling Blinkova into double faults as Garcia saved eight match points before she lost, 4-6, 6-3, 7-5.“She managed the crowd very well and kept very calm,” Garcia said of Blinkova.There was more pain Thursday as French players lost their last three singles matches, but those uniquely throaty urgings were an accompaniment all the same. When the last Frenchman, Arthur Rinderknech, lost Thursday night to the ninth-seeded Taylor Fritz, the crowd booed Fritz so loudly he could not hear the questions during his on-court interview. And a year from now, the French fans will push the rock up the hill again, and again, and again.James Hill for The New York Times More

  • in

    The Agony of Playing Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokovic at the French Open

    Little-known players learned humbling lessons when they drew Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokovic in the first round of the French Open.Aleksandar Kovacevic did plenty of tossing and turning Sunday night before finally settling in for what he thought was about six hours of restless sleep.He had good reason to be nervous. Kovacevic, who is 24 years old and the world’s 114th-ranked player, had a noon tennis date in the first round of the French Open with Novak Djokovic, the winner of 22 Grand Slam singles titles.The only person with a more daunting assignment perhaps was Flavio Cobolli of Italy. Cobolli, who is 21 and ranked 159th, survived the qualifying tournament last week, only to be rewarded with an opening-round confrontation with Carlos Alcaraz.It didn’t go so well for either of the unknowns.Nine games and roughly 35 minutes into Cobolli’s match, an Alcaraz forehand sailed long and Cobolli let out a scream, swung his racket in celebration and let a smile spread across his face. He pumped his fist to the crowd as he walked to his chair. He had finally won a game against the best player in the world, who was playing like, well, the best player in the world.“I did the best I could,” Cobolli said.Alexsandar Kovacevic grew up idolizing Novak Djokovic, who defeated him in three sets on Monday.Clive Brunskill/Getty ImagesKovacevic, who lost to Djokovic, 6-3, 6-2, 7-6(1), had a pretty good idea of what that felt like, too, even though he lasted more than two hours on the court with a player he grew up idolizing.“There was some points, passing shots that he hits, and they’re just points where I feel like I had no chance sometimes,” Kovacevic said. “And those are definitely humbling.”It is a truism of tennis that the top players hate playing the first round of a Grand Slam. Anything but a cruise to victory is cause for concern. Also, there is always the possibility of epic failure in the form of a loss to someone few have heard of.Whatever discomfort Djokovic and Alcaraz may have felt walking onto the courts at Roland Garros on Monday, they mostly managed it with ease, especially Alcaraz. He made an early contribution to the tournament highlight reel, curling a backhand around the net post for a winner early in the second set. Djokovic had more of a workout, and even lost his serve late in his match after getting windblown clay in his eyes.It helped that the stars drew opponents with three digits in their rankings whose recent experience didn’t have much in common with their own. Kovacevic had a particularly winding journey to his date on the French Open’s center court with Djokovic.His father, Milan, immigrated to America from Serbia to pursue a doctorate in computer science from U.C.L.A. His mother is from Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Kovacevic grew up on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, about 500 yards from the green clay of the Central Park tennis complex.In ninth grade, he still wasn’t good enough to play singles for Beacon High School, a public school in Midtown, even though he was spending afternoons training at the John McEnroe Tennis Academy on Randall’s Island.Things started to click after he left Beacon to train in Florida while taking classes at home. At a tournament one summer, he played a top junior who was planning to attend the University of Illinois. His opponent told him he should join him at the school, so he did, even though he didn’t have much interest in college. By the time he finished five years later, he was ranked in the low 400s and figured he would give pro tennis a shot.Since then he has mostly been playing in the tennis hinterlands, though he did win a match in the main draw of the prestigious Miami Open in March.“It has not been the most glorious over the last couple of years,” he said.“I’m standing in Chatrier in front of a packed crowd, playing the best player to ever pick up a racket,” Kovacevic said of Djokovic. “It’s something that you got to take in for a second, but also push away and try to focus and play.”Jean-Francois Badias/Associated PressOn Monday, Kovacevic made his Grand Slam debut against Djokovic on the main court at Roland Garros, Philippe Chatrier, though it wasn’t his first time meeting Djokovic.That happened at the U.S. Open when he was 6 and his Balkan-proud parents brought him to watch the 18-year-old Djokovic win an early-round match, long before Djokovic was the player he would become. And two years ago he warmed up Djokovic at the U.S. Open after coming within a point of qualifying to play.He has the pictures to prove it, and he has tried to incorporate elements of Djokovic’s game into his own. His squat as he waits for an opponent’s serve — knees wide, chest up, racket out front — has plenty of Djokovic in it, even if the rest of his game isn’t quite there yet.“Where I am in my career, like it shouldn’t be so crazy to me that I’m playing some of these guys,” he said. “But, you know, the little kid in me, I’m standing in Chatrier in front of a packed crowd, playing the best player to ever pick up a racket. It’s something that you got to take in for a second, but also push away and try to focus and play.”The way Alcaraz has started his career, he may eventually have something to say about who is the best player to pick up a racket. Everyone in tennis knows this, including Cobolli, who has also spent most of his brief career in the sport’s version of the minor leagues.He was in an elevator, still feeling good about qualifying for his first main draw Grand Slam match, when he looked at his phone and saw that his opponent was Alcaraz. He said he closed his eyes, ran his hand through his hair, and thought, “Oh no.”Roughly, three-quarters of an hour into the match, it was going as he dreaded it might. Alcaraz couldn’t miss and later said he felt “invincible,” like he would never lose a game. Cobolli barely had time to breathe between shots.The scoreboard said 6-0, 2-0. “He was playing incredible,” Cobolli said.Cobolli lasted just under two hours against Alcaraz.Anne-Christine Poujoulat/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesOn the bright side, there is nothing the French crowd loves more — other than a French player — than rallying behind a player who is getting blitzed. And by the time Cobolli got his legs under him, knotting the third set at 5-5, the crowd of nearly 10,000 on the Suzanne Lenglen court was chanting his name. It was like he was one of their own, especially after he saved three match points and broke Alcaraz’s serve to draw even in the set.“I felt important on the court,” Cobolli said.The final score was 6-0, 6-2, 7-5, the elapsed time 1 hour, 57 minutes.Now that Cobolli has seen up close what the best looks like, he said he understands better what he must do to compete — hit the weight room, he said with a grin as he pushed in at his chest with his hand. And get better at tennis.Hope springs eternal for him as it does for so many of the Kovacevics and Cobollis in the game. Just over two years ago, Alcaraz’s ranking had three digits, too. More

  • in

    Tennis Injuries Present Top Players with Serious Challenges

    Getting hurt is part of the game, but sometimes it can take years for top players to return to form.It didn’t take long for Alexander Zverev to realize his situation was dire.After hours of scintillating shot-making, Zverev and Rafael Nadal were set to begin a second tiebreaker in their semifinal match at last year’s French Open.But suddenly, Zverev ran wide for a forehand, rolled his right ankle on its side and let out a bellow. He stumbled to the ground, red clay caked to the back of his black sleeveless top, and cupped his ankle in his hands.“I knew immediately that I was done because my ankle was basically three times the size it normally is,” said Zverev by phone of the injury that took him from tennis for the rest of 2022 and dropped his ATP ranking from No. 2 to outside the top 20. “It wasn’t a nice feeling.”Zverev is hardly the first player to be forced into an extended layoff because of a serious injury.His opponent that day, Nadal, hasn’t played a tour match since he hurt the psoas muscle between his lower abdomen and upper right leg during the Australian Open in January. After repeated attempts to rehab the injury over the last four months, Nadal — who has also suffered from chronic foot pain, a cracked rib and a torn abdominal muscle in the last 18 months — withdrew from the French Open on May 18. He is the 14-time Roland Garros champion and has played the tournament every year since 2005. He also indicated that he does not plan to play Wimbledon and that 2024 will likely be his last year on the professional tour.Rafael Nadal at the Australian Open in January, where he injured his psoas muscle. He recently announced that he will not compete in the French Open. Manan Vatsyayana/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesEmma Raducanu, who won the 2021 United States Open, has been frequently injured ever since, and recently underwent surgery on both of her wrists and one ankle. Andy Murray, a Wimbledon and U.S. Open champion, announced before the 2019 Australian Open that he would retire after the tournament, only to come back, first playing doubles, then returning to singles following a successful hip resurfacing surgery.Bianca Andreescu, who beat Serena Williams to win the 2019 U.S. Open, has suffered injuries to her adductor, ankle, foot, back, and right shoulder, causing her to question whether she should stop competing. And Stan Wawrinka, a three-time major champion, contemplated retirement following multiple surgeries on his knee and ankle. Once ranked world No. 3, Wawrinka is now fighting to stay in the top 100.Injuries, surgery and rehab are dreaded words in any athlete’s vocabulary. For professional tennis players, who are not protected by a team sport’s comprehensive rehabilitation coverage but are instead treated as independent contractors, working their way back onto the ATP and WTA Tours can be grueling physically, mentally and even financially.“I had never experienced an injury from the time I started, and I played with high intensity every day,” said Dominic Thiem by phone. Thiem, who beat Zverev to win the 2020 U.S. Open, suffered a debilitating wrist injury in June 2021 and was sidelined for months. Once ranked No. 3, Thiem lost seven straight matches when he first returned to the ATP Tour, and his ranking plummeted to No. 352, forcing him to play lower-level Challenger tournaments.“With an injury, the whole system comes to a stop,” said Thiem, who is now ranked just inside the top 100. “You can’t do your job, and you no longer have a clear plan. After I returned, it was like never before. You have to lower your expectations, but that’s very tough because for all those years you set for yourself a certain standard, not only from the tournaments you play, but also how you feel the ball. Basically, everything changes.”The process of returning from a layoff can be just as difficult as the injury itself. Readjusting to the rigors of constant travel and the pressure of playing matches at all hours of the day and night, along with worrying about the possibility of reinjury, can impact a player’s recovery.Andreescu knows that. Plagued by back troubles through much of 2022, she had finally begun to rebound at the Miami Open in March. But during her fourth-round match against Ekaterina Alexandrova, Andreescu tumbled to the court, clutching her left leg and screaming in agony.“I’ve never felt pain like that,” Andreescu said by phone as she prepared to return to the tour three weeks later in Madrid. “The next morning I knew what happened, but I was just hoping that I was waking up from a bad dream. Then I felt the pain, and I knew this was real.”Andreescu has rehabbed her body many times before, but she is also convinced that the mind-body connection is just as important.Bianca Andreescu at the 2023 Miami Open. Andreescu has suffered multiple injuries since beating Serena Williams to win the 2019 U.S. Open.Geoff Burke/USA Today Sports, via Reuters“I believe that everything starts in the head and that we create our own stress and, in a way, our own injuries,” she said. “There can be freak accidents, but if you can get your mind right, then it’s easier to come back from those injuries.”The WTA takes injury prevention and rehabilitation seriously. The tour has programming and staff devoted specifically to athletes’ physical and psychological well-being. According to Carole Doherty, the WTA’s senior vice president, sport science and medicine, all its players receive comprehensive medical care, with services that include cardiology, checkups with dermatologists, bone-density exams, and nutrition and hydration advice.When a WTA player is out injured, or pregnant, for at least eight consecutive weeks, she can apply for a Special Ranking, which means that upon her return she will be ranked where she left off and can enter eight tournaments over a 52-week span with that ranking. The ATP has a similar protocol called Protected Ranking.Becky Ahlgren Bedics, the WTA’s vice president of mental health and performance, is keenly aware of the psychological toll an injury can take.“Injuries take you out of training and competition and force you to regroup and prioritize your life differently,” said Bedics, who encourages players who are off the tour to delete WTA rankings from their phones, so they won’t see where they stand as compared with their peers. “It’s tough for an athlete whose only thought is, ‘How can I get back, and what happens if I don’t?’”Bedics and her mental health team encourage players to manage their expectations upon their return to play.“There are so many stressors in this game, including financial ones,” Bedics added. “Our athletes are typically very young and not going to be doing this for 50 years. Sometimes they are supporting their families. So, what we help them do is listen to ‘what is,’ not ‘what ifs.’ We want them to look forward, but also to look backward to see how far they’ve come.”Daria Saville tore her ACL while competing in Tokyo last September. “Every time I get injured, I think about my life and wonder what it will be like without tennis,” she said.Kiyoshi Ota/Getty ImagesDaria Saville understands the play-for-pay nature of tennis. She has suffered from repeated Achilles’ tendon and plantar fasciitis issues since 2016. She had surgery after the 2021 Australian Open, which kept her from playing for nearly a year. Then, while competing in Tokyo last September, she tore her anterior cruciate ligament, requiring more surgery.“Every time I get injured, I think about my life and wonder what it will be like without tennis,” said Saville, who also had ACL surgery in 2013. “On tour, life is not so hard. Everything is done for you, so you don’t have to overthink. The worst thing that happens is you play bad and lose a match.”Fortunately, for Saville, the financial burdens have been lessened by the support she receives from her national federation, Tennis Australia, which pays for her physiotherapist and strength and conditioning coaches. She also gets pep talks from her coach, the former tour player Nicole Pratt.When Thiem thinks back on his wrist injury, he connects the dots to when he won the U.S. Open. Having achieved that goal, Thiem said, he suddenly lost his passion and motivation to play, prompting him to practice with a decreased level of intensity, ultimately leading to the injury. Trying to come back has been difficult.“I can’t forget,” Thiem said, “that all the time when I didn’t play, the other players were playing, they were practicing and improving and moving ahead of me. That makes it even harder to come back.” More

  • in

    Coaching Is Now Allowed During Tennis Matches, but How Useful Is It?

    The practice was long banned, but a change in the rules has permitted hand signals and some talking.At the new United Cup tournament that began the 2023 season in Australia, Cam Norrie and Taylor Fritz split the first two sets and were locked in a close battle for the final set.But Norrie’s coach, Facundo Lugones, had some choice information to pass on: Norrie wasn’t getting enough of Fritz’s serves on the deuce (or right) side back in play and needed to back up, Lugones recalled. And when Norrie was serving, Lugones saw Norrie was winning all his on the deuce side when he served the ball wide to Fritz’s forehand, so he urged him to do that more.The 13th-ranked Norrie won 6-4 in the third set. It’s impossible to call coaching the decisive factor — the players had to make their shots — but it added an extra wrinkle for the players and the fans.The WTA began allowing coaching during matches in 2020, while the ATP debuted coaching last summer, making this French Open just the third Grand Slam tournament to allow it for men’s tennis.Exchanges are limited: While hand signals are now permitted, players and coaches may only talk during the 25 seconds between points when the player is on the side where the coach is sitting. (Outside of Grand Slams, the WTA allows female players one longer conversation per set during a changeover.)Still, many players, including the ninth-ranked Fritz, criticized the change, calling it a “dumb rule” that violated the idea of an individual sport. Lugones said Norrie was also “not a big fan of on-court coaching — most players love the one-on-one battle.” When things are going well, he said, he doesn’t say much.Zhang Zhizhen worked with his coach, Luka Kutanjac, on the practice courts during the BNP Paribas Open.Jayne Kamin-Oncea/USA Today Sports, via ReutersZhang Zhizhen climbed from 99th to 69th in Madrid this month by beating Denis Shapovalov, Norrie and Fritz in a week when he left his coach back home. “I don’t like when my coach talks to me. It makes me feel confused and makes things complicated,” Zhizhen said. “Sometimes I will say, ‘Stop, you are talking too much.’”Many players want at least some outside advice and encouragement.“Watching from the outside you can see more, so a coach can really help with the small changes. If I’m missing forehand returns, he’ll tell me whether I need to step back or stay low, which can make a difference,” said Rohan Bopanna, who is ranked 11th in doubles.While the forced brevity is limiting, live coaching can be effective, said the third-ranked Jessica Pegula. “You can change your game plan a little quicker now.” Both she and Jan-Lennard Struff, who is ranked 28th, said that in tough matches, a psychological push was just as important. “Then it’s about the positive energy and good vibes,” Struff said.Fifteenth-ranked Hubert Hurkacz agreed that “big-picture strategy” and a psychological boost could really help, but he added that occasionally, he will shut down communication. “Sometimes I can say, ‘I got this,’ and focus on myself,” he said. Even Fritz communicates regularly during matches. His coach, Michael Russell, said 70 percent of their exchanges were about the mental game — “stay positive, one point at a time, keep your feet moving” — and 30 percent was more tactical and strategic.“A player can be so hyper focused, they can’t see the bigger picture,” Russell said, adding that his suggestions often reinforced their pregame planning while responding to trends Russell had noticed. “There are matches where Taylor gets too comfortable hitting the backhand crosscourt and just extending the rally. If he’s not being aggressive enough and using the backhand down the line, I’ll tell him to do that to hurt his opponent more.”But Russell said his advice was in broad strokes, not telling Fritz where to serve on the next point.“It’s better not to be specific because if it doesn’t work on that next point, you’re setting him up for negativity,” Russell said. He also won’t make technical adjustments, like saying his toss is too low, unless it’s a blatant issue because he doesn’t want Fritz overthinking things.Because of a change of rules, Facundo Lugones, shown at the BNP Paribas Open, was able to offer coaching tips to Cam Norrie during Norrie’s match with Taylor Fritz at the new United Cup tournament in Australia this year.Julian Finney/Getty ImagesLugones said that being limited to perhaps five words — often at a distance in a stadium filled with screaming fans — restricted the amount of actual coaching possible. While Norrie will seek more advice during certain matches, the consultations are quite brief.“You can’t fully explain a change of patterns, and if the player doesn’t hear you or understand you, it can backfire,” he said. “That’s why the coaching during matches is often more mental than tactical.”That’s especially true for the men at Grand Slams, where matches can go five sets and last four or five hours.“The Slams are like a roller coaster — you have to remind your player there are lots of momentum shifts and whoever handles that better will win the match,” Lugones said. “Stay patient and remember you have time to change things.”Russell added that as the match grinds on, he’ll remind Fritz about nutritional and caloric intake and not rushing through points when fatigue sets in. But sometimes when a player is tiring, the best move is to growl encouragement like Mickey, the trainer in the movie “Rocky.”“Make sure he can see the light at end of the tunnel,” Russell said.In that Norrie-Fritz match at the United Cup, the coaches had access to livestreaming data, which Lugones said was helpful in confirming the patterns he had picked up with his eyes. “It’s especially good to have during the long matches,” he said.He would like to see data used more during matches, but he would also like to see the men’s tour amend the rule that allows one real conversation a set during a changeover. “You would have more time to explain your tactics and make sure the player hears,” he said.Lugones would even be open to letting the TV audiences listen in, the way other sports often attach microphones to coaches. “If it’s better for the sport and will attract more fans,” he said, “that’s fine.” More