Das Wunderkind

In April, Curren lost 6-1, 6-1 in a first-round match in Las Vegas to the young Swede, Stefan Edberg. He promptly left the tour. Disappeared, in fact, into the bush of Botswana, where he joined a safari. Didn't pick up a racket until mid-June. Curren emerged in the fourth round at Wimbledon after having beaten D.G.C. (Colonel) Mustard, who would turn out to be the last man to break his service before the final—presumably he broke it in the dining room with the wrench—to face none other than Edberg.

Anyone who watched Curren blow the racket out of Edberg's hand in straight sets (two of them tiebreakers) might have guessed just what was in store for McEnroe: He won just six points on Curren's serve in the first set. They played on the second Wednesday, it was hot, and how McEnroe must have felt the white heat...whooosh...as Curren's rockets sailed past. How to respond? Why, with some McEntactics, of course.

Let's check the height of the net, bitch about a line call, stall, talk back to these #$%$$$# in the crowd. Leading 2-1, 40-30 in the second set, Curren took the most significant shot of the match, and it wasn't a serve or return. He had faulted his first ball when McEnroe went into his act. Curren marched to the chair and demanded two serves because of McEnroe's delaying. Hardly anybody ever does this to the world's No. 1. But it should be done. Must be. And Curren got his two serves. All the usual hell broke loose between McEnroe and officialdom, but Curren's argument was upheld. McEnroe wasn't heard from again.

Continuing to flail away at his huge second serve to prevent any rhythm on McEnroe's return, Curren cut too fine and double-faulted twice in two games. Still, Mac couldn't break him. In fact, he had only four break points the entire match. Curren was lethal on the receiving end as well. Set two, game seven, game point for McEnroe: Curren aimed down the line three straight times off first serves, and Mac didn't touch a one. Set three, game seven, McEnroe having just double-faulted: Curren loaded up the backhand again and "zoned" another trio of clean, winning returns.

After the changeover, Mac strolled to the baseline with one hand in his pocket, the 6-2, 6-2, 6-4 finish written all over his sodden face. Later, in an almost cathartic session with the press, a strangely vulnerable McEnroe said that he felt "old" and "overpowered" and "overwhelmed." He talked of "the mentality factor," of "more enjoyable things than tennis," even of retirement. What he looked like, however, was just a lovesick guy who needed to get home to his girl.

The less said about Curren's semifinal victory over Connors—the 6-2, 6-2, 6-1 score accurately reflects Jimbo's runs, hits and crotch pulls—the more humane. As defending champion in 1983, Connors had swallowed 33 Curren aces in a similar defeat. This time it was 17. "He kept swatting the big bombs," the victim testified. "They kept coming at my face or crawled along the ground. There was nothing to do."

If Connors was carried off Centre Court on his shield for the last time, at least his spiritual legacy of stare-offs and stoked-up, pumping fists remains with Becker. The youngster served notice by reaching the quarterfinals of the Australian Open in December and the semis of the Italian Open in May. Then, a week before the fortnight, he won Queens in a romp. Afterward, Johan Kriek, the losing finalist, predicted that Becker would win Wimbledon just as easily. Yuk, yuk.

In the big show, Becker came from behind in four matches. Cold and calculating, yet with that big goofy kid smile, he handled the press and the pressure. Was Ion Tiriac, the hirsute Transylvania warrior of old who manages the Wunder Boom Boom, serious when he revealed that at age 10 Becker was kicked out of the German Federation's youth program because he was "too crazy" and that even last year he had "the temperament of complete bananas"?

Wimbledon was but one round gone when Hank Pfister, his beaten opponent, rated Becker higher than Bjorn Borg or McEnroe at the same age, describing his power as "frightful." Pfister said he didn't think Becker could win Wimbledon yet. Then he thought longer. "But maybe so," he said. "The guy's got to win it sometime."

Becker's 9-7-in-the-fifth defeat of seventh-seeded Joakim Nystrom was a study in courage and chutzpah. Twice Nystrom broke Becker on an array of glorious passes to serve for the match. Twice Becker broke back and then held and broke again for the win. "When I was young..." he said, "...I mean last year."