Wimbledon ’87 : Becker Adds a New Wrinkle to His Wimbledon Repertoire

We keep forgetting that Boris Becker is still a youngster experiencing those landmark life passages.

You know: First bicycle. First kiss. First switch-hands-in-mid-lunge, cross-court, half-volley monster drop shot on Centre Court at Wimbledon.

Get serious, Boris.

We know you’re stronger and more agile than the weakling Becker who won Wimbledon the last two years. We know you are more confident.

But ambidextrous, too?

Yes, Boris showed us his left hand Tuesday, when the rains finally let up and Wimbledon play started, 26 hours behind schedule (pronounced shed- Jewel, fans).

As second-seeded Ivan Lendl was struggling somewhat, extended to four sets by a virtual unknown, Becker was looking like Mr. Wimbledon.

Top seeded Becker opened on Centre Court against a decent Czech player, Karel Novacek. As expected, Boris won in straight sets, 6-4, 6-2, 6-4.

The left-handed shot was not a turning point. Boris would have won this match playing with the wrong end of the racket. It was merely a flash of greatness.

It happened in the third game of the second set. With both players at the net, exchanging point-blank volleys, Novacek backhanded a nice cross-court shot that appeared to be beyond Becker’s considerable reach.

Sprinting quickly to his left, Becker smoothly switched his racket to his left hand and wristed a strong forehand cross-court zinger past the startled Czech.

Asked about the shot, Becker shrugged.

“It was the only chance I had to make that shot,” he said.

How often has he used his left hand?

“I never did it in my life,” Becker said. “I don’t know what came over me. It just came over me at that minute to play left.”

What did Becker say to Novacek after the shot?

“I said, ‘I’m sorry.’ I didn’t mean it (the shot) like that. It may look like I’m playing with him, and I didn’t mean it like that.”

Exemplary sportsmanship, too? What will Boris do next? Serve tea in the royal box during change-overs?

Maybe we’ll never see Becker’s lefty shot again. But if I were his next opponent and Boris took the court with a racket in each hand, I’d pull a hamstring real fast.

And has anyone ever won the Wimbledon men’s doubles without a partner?

Luckily for Novacek, Becker didn’t get much warm-up for this match. He tried to work out Monday, but no fewer than a dozen grass-court clubs in the London area turned down his camp’s request for court time.

Since Becker is a major hero in London, that was a social faux pas comparable to Larry Bird’s visiting Los Angeles and nobody letting him into a pickup game. Snub City.

An irate Ion Tiriac, Becker’s manager, said that if he could have found an acre of grass for sale somewhere in London, “I buy it.”

Meanwhile, if Lendl could find an acre of grass for sale, he’d probably pave it over. Despite added strength that’s supposed to make him tougher on turf, grass remains his second-most hated surface. His most hated is damp grass.

The conservative London Times trashed Lendl’s personality--as bleak as the weather, it said--Tuesday morning, and Tuesday afternoon his game looked less than superb against a first-round nobody. He finally beat Christian Saceanu, a Romanian now living in West Germany, 6-2, 3-6, 6-3, 7-5.

For poor Ivan, this tournament is already becoming a matter of grim survival.

“I don’t expect things to go well at Wimbledon,” Lendl said after his match. “It’s a struggle from Day 1 when I come over and work on my game. It’s a struggle with the weather, with my game, my footwork, most of the things.”

He’s probably allergic to strawberries, too.

While Lendl battled, Becker and the Brits sort of flowed with the conditions, endured them and accepted them with good-natured patience.

For the second straight day, a capacity crowd of 14,000-plus jammed Centre Court. Or was it the same crowd left over from Monday? Maybe they all stayed the night, taking care not to snore disrespectfully.

Play was scheduled Tuesday at 2. It was delayed until after 4. Becker and Novacek warmed up, then they were called off the court. The Dutchess of Windsor stuck her head out of the royal box twice during the long wait.

Did the threat of a second straight rainout, with no refunds and no rain checks, dampen the spirits of the fans?

No way.

When the umpire announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I regret play is suspended,” did the fans boo, or even groan?

No way.

The reaction was a collective resigned sigh, and back to the chit-chat.

I get the impression that the tennis is a bonus for these fans. It’s enough that they are allowed to bask in the gloomy drizzle, spending an entire afternoon and early evening furling and unfurling their umbrellas and staring at the tarp covering the grass at this hallowed shrine.

If Centre Court has that kind of hold on the fans, it has much the same impact on Becker.

While the other players waited out the rain in the jam-packed dressing rooms, stewing and fidgeting, Becker kicked back and waited happily for his moment beneath the clouds.

Lendl said: “I didn’t like all the waiting in the locker room at all.”

Becker said: “I was one of the few (players) who did not care if it was raining or not.”

What, he worried? Becker owns this place. He feels a surge of power as soon as he steps onto the turf, soggy or otherwise.

“I feel I’m not 190 (pounds), but 290,” Becker said when asked to describe how he feels on Centre Court. “I don’t feel any pressure whatsoever. It’s never happened to me any tournament but here. I just like to play here.”

So we see. In four Wimbledons, Boris’ singles record is 17-1, and the one was an injury default three years ago.

But let’s not get carried away with old statistics, a routine first-round win and one cute little trick shot. Becker must defeat five more opponents to reach the final.

But if he only has to play those guys one at a time, they are all in trouble.