Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Handful of Summers

Forbes, Gordon. Handful of Summers. New York: Simon & Schuster. 1978. Print


First Sentences:

Staircase number one at the All England Club leads you into a section of the stadium just above the members enclosure.


Climb the stairs on finals days and there, suddenly, in the sun, the soft old centre court, ling waiting, all green; waiting; for two o'clock. It is venerable, that court, and it lives.










Description:

Remember when sports were played for the love of the game, the comradery, the adventure of travel, and just the freedom to live the life of the young and talented? Was there ever such a time? The answer is a joyous "Yes" from Gordon Forbes, author of Handful of Summers where he chronicles his experiences and the free-spirited men and women playing the international amateur tennis circuit during the 1950s and early 1960s.

Forbes, an 18-year-old South African, grew up hitting tennis balls as a punishment for whatever shenanigans he and his brother and sisters got into on their isolated ranch (stealing eagle eggs, blowing up their homemade cannon, etc.). Gradually, he became good enough to be sponsored to play in international tournaments. 

He kept a diary (which became the basis for this book) throughout those early trips to English and other international tournaments which opened his eyes to the world, fellow competitors ("colorful lunatics"), and of course, women. Even the tournaments themselves offered unique experiences.
They were so simple, those little English tournaments, so utterly artless. Home-made, if you like. They were funny things ... but they were open-hearted, and they allowed ordinary people to play them. Everything was absolutely fair and square -- and the "conditions" that the players were offered, though infinitesimal, were conditions, nonetheless.
Players received a return train fare from London, cold lunches each day, accommodations with a local family, and 50 shillings for "expenses." Tournament winners received prize vouchers of 5 pounds which players could spend only on "white apparel." 

But this book does not linger on the game itself. Rather, the tournaments and matches serve as a backdrop to best feature the idiosyncrasies of the players, their conversations, and their antics when loosened on the world at a young age. For example:
  • Torben Ulrich, the Danish philosopher player who played jazz clarinet, but when Forbes when to see him play, Ulrich just stood silently at the mike in front of his band because "I could not think of a single note to play";
  • Don Candy who once argued a call with an empty official's chair;
  • Roy Emerson who took showers with his clothes on to wash them, singing his song of the week off-key over and over;
  • The anonymous player who, at match point, went to the sideline and took out his special racquet painted black which he used only for the final point;
  • Abe Segal who loved food and ate a steak in three gulps, meatballs whole, and plates of spaghetti in only a few tennis-ball sized bites without chewing, "like hay being loaded"; 
  • Forbes himself who saw visions at night of a wall falling on his roommate or a hand grenade tossed under his bed among dreams that require jumping out of bed, screaming warnings, and waking everyone except himself.
No detail of that era goes unnoticed by Forbes. Whether food or accommodations or playing surfaces or local girls, all are subtly, dryly recorded and commented on:
The [English] toilets themselves had long chains and used to flush like tidal waves, before dying to throaty gurgles and other internal rumblings, so that one finally returned to bed shaken and guilt-stricken after a perfectly ordinary widdle.
"Widdle"? Who uses that term anymore (ever)? Leave it to Forbes to perfectly preserve that innocent, slightly naughty description and capture the essence of that era. It's what makes this book so delightful, so real, and just so fun to linger over. Plus, I had met and hit with (briefly) several of these players, like Rod Laver, Carl Earn, and Allen Fox, so it was fun to read about their early exploits.

Yes, there certainly was an amateur age of tennis that will never be repeated. But thankfully, Gordon Forbes was there to tell us about it and the white-clad characters who made played for the love of the game and the adventures of the world around them.

Happy reading. 



Fred


If this book interests you, be sure to check out:

Forbes, Gordon. Too Soon to Panic: A Memoir  
Follow up to Handful of Summers which covers an insider's view of the world of the early professional tennis circuit from the late sixties to the nineties, with stories of Ashe, Borg, Vilas, Graf, Agassi, and many more. Humorous, personable, and honest in its portrayal of this blossoming age of professional tennis.

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