For generations tennis was as static as it was stuffy. Tournaments were held as feudal rights, as much a club's property as the clubhouse. Gradually, and all but unnoticed, the status quo is changing. The matches now go where the money and interest are.
It all started when tiny Salisbury, Md. took the National Indoors away from New York, and gave the tournament more love and money than it ever had before. Next New York lost the Davis Cup Challenge Round to Cleveland, and before the traditionalists could so much as harrumph Cleveland made a record $260,000.
The boom and the bidding are getting even hotter. In successive weeks this month Dallas gained its first Davis Cup matches and packed 12,000 people for $39,000 into a makeshift stadium, and Cleveland put on its second Wightman Cup matches—this is women's tennis, you understand—and drew 14,600 fans and $50,000. The sound you hear is TV sniffing around the courts.
Now all this tournament-snatching has scared the West Side Tennis Club in Forest Hills, N.Y. Sensibly frightened that it might next lose the National Championships to the hinterlands, Forest Hills has burst forth with public relations and promotion. The result: almost $70,000 in receipts already for next month's tournament.
THE RELUCTANT TUNA
The winner of the Bailey Island Tuna Tournament, Clayton Johnson, reported that there are thousands of tuna in Casco Bay this season, more than he has seen in a lifetime of fishing. Robert York of West Point, Me., who buys and trucks to Boston almost all tuna landed in Maine, said the catch for the season so far is over 150, well ahead of recent years.
That would make it seem that those who wish to fight a giant tuna on rod and reel should head immediately for Casco Bay. But not so. York knows of only one caught on rod and reel in the entire Gulf of Maine this year. That was the 702-pounder landed by Frank Crooks of Newburyport, Mass., largest taken during the tourney. All the rest succumbed to harpoons.
Over recent years, according to Frank J. Mather, associate scientist at the Woods Hole (Mass.) Oceanographic Institution, tuna have shown increasing reluctance to take bait. Animal behaviorists say fish do not have enough intelligence to become educated to the dangers of baited hooks. Perhaps so, but there are anglers who would dispute the behaviorists, especially those who have had the common experience recently of fishing waters teeming with tuna and getting few strikes or none.
SEGREGATION IN MAINE
If Mitch Miller or Skitch Henderson should try to play the Arundel golf course in Kennebunkport, Me., they would not be allowed to. Not by the hair of their chinny-chin-chins. Bearded golfers are outlawed at Arundel.