Do the Right
Thing — Give Our King Her Court
An Open Letter to USTA President Franklin
Johnson and the USTA Board of Directors
Relating To The U.S. Open Grandstand Court and The USTA National
Tennis Center
May 17, 2006
Dear Franklin and Board Members,
There’s a certain buzz, an unmistakable
charge anytime you enter a room with Billie Jean King. Ideas
bounce off the walls, questions crackle. A clear presence is
undeniable. For few in tennis have more zeal or passion and,
arguably, no figure in sports has had more impact on American
life and culture than the Long Beach fireman’s daughter
with her oversized love of sport, her pedal-to-the-metal curiosity,
ferocious sense of justice and unwavering commitment to the simple
proposition that all of us—guy or gal, black or white,
rich or poor, straight or gay—should have a fair shake:
an opportunity to play on a level playing field
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Yes, American tennis is blessed with many
a luminary. But Billie Jean and Arthur Ashe are the only two
who’ve actually transcended the sport itself. Now, at last,
it’s time to give our King her due and either name the
U.S. Open’s lively, often raucous Grandstand Court, the
Billie Jean King Court or the re-name the entire U.S. Open complex
the USTA/Billie Jean King National Tennis Center. It’s
not just because the two other Grand Slam tournaments that have
named stadiums after legends have included women: Margaret Court
Stadium at the Aussie Open and Stade Suzanne Lenglen at the French.
And it’s not only because of her stellar (top 10 of all-time)
career that includes 71 singles titles, 20 Wimbledon trophies
and the No. 1 ranking five times.
It’s not simply because of her semi-gritty back story.
After all, one of the most successful but judgmental governing
bodies in tennis history — the Southern California power
structure of the Perry Jones era — chose not to send the
feisty kid to key junior tournaments and insisted she sit out
of a group picture because (God forbid!) she was wearing the
shorts her mom had sewn for her, rather than a proper tennis
dress or skirt. But these rebuffs (and the troubling reality
that at times, she was playing for 1/8th of the money the men
were competing for) only intensified her fierce resolve.
Little ever deterred the unsinkable Billie Jean. So in ‘70,
she boldly approached World Tennis publisher Gladys Heldman and
cigarette magnet Joe Kuhlman to try and launch the modern woman’s
tour. Of course, their fledgling Virginia Slims circuit
was quickly dismissed by know-it-alls on the men’s tour
who chuckled, “No one will come out and watch those birds.” Sadly,
our USTA reacted with a knee-jerk opposition and draconian sanctions.
And some women even hesitated to join the raging Bolsheviks in
tennis dresses.
But Billie stayed the course. True believer, evangelist, feminist
world-class athlete, she cajoled her fellow pros [think Chris
Evert, Margaret Court, Evonne Goolagong, Virginia Wade, etc.]
into joining the fold. She twisted the oh-so-resistant arms of
the good ol’
boys in their blazers and tirelessly beat the drum for media
coverage and public support for the rookie circuit. Rarely has
a cause had a more adept, unrelenting advocate. Incredibly, BJK
would soon become the first woman athlete to bank $100,000 in
a single year.
Then puff before you could call out “Go for it, Billie,” that
overreaching troop of pushy wannabes and hapless dreamers morphed
themselves into what we know today as a smooth corporate establishment — the
WTA Tour, with its $88 million deal with Sony Ericsson. So it’s
no wonder these days that one of the prevailing truths of tennis
is that any woman pro who earns a big bundle in a season should,
at year’s end, simply send Billie Jean a thank-you check
for $100,000.
Of course, being the inspired pied piper of the women’s
circuit would prove to be just one notch in the considerable
resume of this remarkable player, pioneer, coach, entrepreneur,
innovator and thinker. She founded the Women’s Sports Foundation
and for more than 30 years has zealously promoted her beloved
World TeamTennis
—preaching that our oh-so individualistic sport desperately
needs a team sensibility, a coed platform and a certain (control-freaks-not-invited/let-it-all-hang-out)
fan-friendly format.
Yet, truth be told, Billie Jean King’s legacy goes far
beyond these stunning achievements. Her heroic triumph in the
much-ballyhooed
‘73 Battle of the Sexes was a tipping point in the American
story. Never mind that her shoot-out with the clownish, self-sabotaging
male chauvinist Bobby Riggs was a Fellini-esque farce. Ultimately,
the over-the-top operatic happening resonated with far-reaching
meaning.
King was on the cover of Time; the whole county was abuzz. Gender
politics — raw and combative — would forever be shaped.
If BJK would have been humiliated by rooster Riggs (like Margaret
Court had been earlier that year on Mother’s Day), women
would have once again had to defer; their growing calls for equality
might well have been stalled, while the gathering cacophony of
chauvinist cries — “keep ‘dem broads where
they belong, in the kitchen and the bedroom” — would
have grown louder than ever.
So amidst shameless hype and only-in-America hoopla, 30,472 fans
— still the largest crowd in tennis history — poured
into the Houston Astrodome. As 50 million watched on TV, the
little woman with the big glasses and gangly knees began to mercilessly
undo the aging, overmatched 55-year-old huckster. And after her
decisive 6-4, 6-3, 6-3 triumph, the message was loud. Women count!
Woman can compete! And guess what — women can win!
The next morning across America, women were alive with “told
you so” chatter. A certain giddy sense of empowerment was
palpable. Secretaries marched into their boss’s offices
demanding raises. In the Senate, the Republican minority leader
pronounced that King’s win “ratified the 26th [equal
rights] amendment.” Eventually, legislation would provide
for gender equality in collegiate athletics, and the old stand-by-your-man
view of women as sex objects and/or subservient support folks
would radically shift forever. A single tennis player’s
sense of outrage, her courage, willingness to take risks and
ability to excel under excruciating pressure, would in fact impact
the tone, context and reality of the lives of my two daughters
and the lives of millions of others.
Yeah, Billie Jean won a tennis match. Yeah, she reshaped the
map of a sport. But guess what — she also impacted our
mind-set. Her effect was historic.
No wonder it’s easy to speak of her in the same sentence
as Jackie Robinson or Muhammad Ali. No wonder it’s hardly
shocking that the San Francisco Chronicle claimed she was “the
most influential athlete of all time”; that she’s
often touted as one of the four or five most influential woman
of the 20th century and, in her day, polls announced she was “the
most respected woman in the world.”
Yes, Althea Gibson, John McEnroe, Jack Kramer, Jimmy Connors
and Chrissie Evert have made mighty contributions. They should
be lavished with recognition (and the U.S. Open has assorted
plazas, gates and outer courts that could do the job). Still,
the USTA should at last step up and do the right thing and name
the U.S. Open’s beloved grandstand court or re-name the
entire U.S. Open complex for a woman whose skill, guts, fervor
and vision reshaped the landscape of our lives.
Bill Simons
Founder, Editor and Publisher
Inside Tennis
© 2006
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