All sorts of funny things happen in New York in the week leading up to the main draw of the US Open. For one? Courts appear where you’ve never seen them before. This year, Racquet magazine hosted various festivities at an annual pop-up court at the South Street Seaport; Wilson threw a tennis party to debut their new Defyer racquet at the private Town Tennis Club, tucked into a residential building on a leafy street off Sutton Place; and Serena Williams, Matteo Berrettini, Taylor Fritz, and Caroline Wozniacki played pickleball in the stately ballroom of the Lotte New York Palace Hotel across the street from St. Patrick’s Cathedral in midtown.
Perhaps the grandest setting of them all, though, was the regulation-size tennis court installed in the Grand Ballroom of the recently renovated Waldorf Astoria—long ago the site of everything from concerts by Elvis and the Beatles to the Tony Awards—to host Thursday night’s Waldorf Astoria Ballroom Tennis Invitational. The elegant exhibition (a portion of the proceeds benefited the Big Brothers Big Sisters of America) featured—along with Leylah Fernandez taking on Maria Sakkari and Americans Ben Shelton and Tommy Paul slugging it out on the court—an array of bites, from spiced lamb lollipops and wagyu hot dogs to caviar, a massive raw bar, and custom cocktails; along with a serving alley fitted with a radar gun, so you could see just how fast that killer serve of yours really is. (I’m sorry to report that my own topped out at a mere 70 mph—an hour or so later, Ben Shelton clocked the biggest one of the evening out on the ballroom court, at 141 mph.)
What began with mild trepidation on the part of the players—“I just hope I don’t shank a ball and smash a chandelier,” said Tommy Paul a few minutes before the cocktail hour kicked off—turned into a kind of triumphal arrival of, perhaps, a new Manhattan tradition. “Here’s hoping that this is just the first of many of these—and that, maybe, I even get invited back,” said Ben Shelton out on the court.
Ben Shelton in action during the Waldorf Astoria New York Ballroom Tennis Invitational.Photo: Getty Images
As to the action itself: Fernandez squeaked by Sakkari in a mini-tiebreak decider, 6-5, while Paul beat the big-serving Shelton, 6-2. Former pro Sam Querrey served as the whimsical chair umpire, while Andy Roddick—still the last American man to win the US Open, in 2003—acted as a sort of comic compère. The crowd, limited to 400 or so lucky tennis fans, was then treated to an overflow of desserts: there was a summer berry Eton mess, a red velvet tartlet, a cheesecake trifle, and so much more. But, alas, I had a 9 a.m. appointment back on the ballroom court with Stan Wawrinka the next morning, so I headed home to (try to) sleep.
As it’s not every day one is offered an hour-long private one-on-one clinic with a tennis legend and three-time Grand Slam champion (including the US Open, exactly a decade ago), sleep didn’t exactly come easy. But I was back at the Waldorf ballroom at 9, where I met the so-called Stanimal, a.k.a. Stan the Man. (The private clinics are part of the extracurricular offerings from the so-called Waldorf Astoria Racquet Club.)
Stan had already had quite a week: On Monday, when the wild cards were announced for the US Open, he—shockingly—wasn’t among them. (Wild cards, awarded at the discretion of tournament directors, are a way for players who may be lower-ranked—because of a lighter schedule, injury, or other factors—to enter the main draw of tournaments. And while Stan is winding down his epic career and retiring at the end of the season, he saw this year’s Open as an opportunity for an emotional farewell to the city he’d come to love even before winning the tourney in 2016.)
Stan Wawrinka celebrates with the US Open trophy after beating Novak Djokovic at the 2016 US Open finals.Photo: Getty Images
The tennis world erupted in outrage; another wild-card player announced an injury and withdrew from the tournament, Stan was given a wild card after all, and all was right with the world. But he’d flown back to his home in Switzerland immediately after the first wild-card announcement on Monday night and had only returned the night before meeting me at the Waldorf.
Suffice to say that he came ready to play. For an amateur—really most any amateur—hitting with a pro is both an experience of a lifetime and a crucible of terror. One desperately hopes that one’s game is, if not exactly on fire, at least competent enough to avoid bringing shame down upon one’s family name. My own experience in this regard has run the gamut, from absolutely shameful (hitting balls off the frame of my racquet with Andre Agassi on the court at Arthur Ashe Stadium) to middling (with Andy Roddick on the same court a few years earlier). But sometimes, it’s not the overall play that sticks in the mind but the single shot, lucky or otherwise, as when Garbiñe Muguruza drilled a forehand directly at me during a doubles game at an indoor court in midtown and—despite the baked-in terror—I deftly parried it away into a game-winning drop shot.
Thankfully, this morning my game didn’t let me down. At the same time, Stan was indulgent, putting balls pretty much directly onto my racquet and offering the kind of simple yet clearly hard-won tips that made everything a little easier. I’ll spare you the details, but, essentially: prepare and get my racquet back earlier; plant my feet and my body more steadily not just before, but throughout the shot; keep my head down, focusing on the ball and not gawking to see where my brilliant shot is about to land. All are instructions that I myself was giving out at the age of 14, when I began my brief adolescent career as a tennis instructor in my tiny hometown, and the fact that I hadn’t yet absorbed them into my bloodstream was at once maddening and, somehow, an odd proof of why tennis is the most glorious sport in the world.
In between practice sessions on the court, Stan and I swigged (me) or sipped (him) water and chatted easily. I asked him if he employed a sports psychologist and he told me that, no, he didn’t—but he did see what he called a “regular” psychologist. “For me, it’s more about whether you’re happy and feeling good off the court. We all go through emotions off the court, whether you’re feeling happy or sad or anxious or nervous, and that affects how you play on the court. And when I’m feeling happy and with my mind free out on the court, I play better.” Then it was back out on the court for serving instruction—and yeah, I need to calm my whole procedure down, toss the ball higher, wait for it, and then reach for it.
On Monday, Stan will face the formidable Matteo Berrettini in the first round of the US Open. If he gets by Berrettini, he’ll likely face Novak Djokovic next. However the chips fall for him, I hope he plays free and calm. A legend like him deserves the best possible send-off from New York after a masterful career.
The fact that he helped me straighten out my game—with attentiveness and patience and encouragement and a completely hands-on, all-in enthusiasm? It’s something I’ll never forget.
