Davis Cup – From Dreams to Reality….

by Leanne Ortiz

Imagine a contest between fierce sporting nations contested by young men who have built a life around an “individual” sporting career, these are men who (usually) play for huge cash rewards and grand individual fame, when young they chose not to play a team sport with their mates, but one which indeed pits them against the best of their mates in

aggressive titanic one on one struggles…. 

Add to this contest no prize money…

Throw in the possibility of career threatening injury….

Spare a thought for the extra commitment required to travel the globe playing these 5 set events in an already grueling schedule….

But dangle the thought of the chance to play, not for yourself, but for Australia, to don the Green and Gold and waltz with Matilda for a few weekends a year….

Add to that a chance to experience the  friendship of a “team” committed to the one dream, motivated by their nation’s spirited support, not just any nation, but one which is unashamedly passionate about their sporting heroes… particularly when they are playing in the Green and Gold…

Combine all these things and you have an intriguing, extraordinary result, a contest which captures the imagination of the Australian tennis fraternity like no other…

The Davis Cup….

From dreams to reality …. This is just one fan’s experience of the grandest prize in tennis…

On a busy Sunday afternoon after working at my daughter’s school fete I casually dropped in to the local Ticketek outlet to make sure that no other “tennis nuts” had began lining up for the coveted Davis Cup final tickets which were not to go on sale until 12 noon the following day…

Imagine my surprise when at 2pm there was already a “body” in a chair and this “body” had been there from 12 noon that day.. a 24 hour wait till the ticket office was to open.

I raced home to prepare myself for a long evening and by the time I got back down to ticketek at 4pm there were already another 2 people lined up and so it was that we chatted and waited and slept (a little) for many hours until that window finally opened…

Being 4^th in line and given it was a final, the seats I secured this time around were not quite as wonderful as those I achieved for the semifinal, but no matter, I was there!  Many people towards the end of the line who came around 9am had missed out altogether after a 3 hour wait.

And so dawned Friday September 28^th 2003….

My friend Lynne and I hopped on the XPT at 4am and were in Melbourne by 7am, enough time to get to our Richmond hotel, unload our bags, grab a buffet breakfast and head back in to Federation Square for the gathering of the Fanatics before the huge event…

It was here I met Kerrin and her mates from the Rafter Babblers and we chatted as we headed down to Melbourne Park, a stream of Green and Gold supporters looking forward to cheering on Lleyton Hewitt in his first crucial rubber against Juan Carlos Ferrero ….  confidence was high in our little man, we knew he wouldn’t be giving anything less than 100%, no matter the result there would be nothing left on that court at the finish… Lleyton would never leave us pondering “what ifs”…

We found our seats and were greeted with a short yet very entertaining opening ceremony using clever laser light formations and a brief outline of the reasons the Davis Cup is so steeped in tradition….

Speaking of tradition… this is when the first “fault” of the day appeared without even a ball being hit!  We played the incorrect Spanish National Anthem – an embarrassing moment indeed for poor old James Morrison leaving a gallant Fitzie to do some apologising and smooth the ruffled feathers of the Spaniards as best he could – “only in Australia” we said with a little giggle – it was a big error but indeed no malice was intended, Fitzie’s apology was sincere and the error was corrected as soon as it could have been, there was certainly no need for a Spanish inquisition!

And so let the games begin!

Lleyton was looking fresh, fit and fired up as he began to hit some cracking winners in only the first game of the match, however the long and doggedly contested rallies started right here in the first few games and were not to let up from either player for the entire match…

It was clear that both Juan Carlos and Lleyton were in for the long haul, it would be a battle of two great champions, neither of who is any stranger to 5 set struggles and both who are wonderfully familiar with the spirit of Davis Cup finals.

Lleyton went down in the first set 6-3, but rather than drop his bundle this gritty little fighter did the only thing he knows how  – he fought back to reverse the score in the second set.

So with nerves settled and scores even the third set began and though Lleyton was making an uncharacteristic number of unforced errors, it was this time Juan Carlos who would show his fighting spirit and come back to take the set on this “our” surface of grass, showing that clearly a first class player can play on any surface and when the Davis Cup is the prize most “disadvantages” can be overcome by sheer determination and passion.

Not to be outdone by the heroics of Ferrero, Lleyton once again produced a gritty performance in the fourth set which came down to the wire with a tiebreak to be the decider… by this time I was hoarse from cheering, my hands were red roar from clapping and I felt like I myself had endured 4 sets of tennis – all from the comfort of a shady seat – imagine how these two young men were feeling out on centre court on a steaming hot Melbourne day.

It was in this tiebreak that Lleyton took the “bull by the horns” and produced a flawless 7 nil win to secure the 4^th set – look out Juan Carlos, if there is a player in the world you do not want to face in a 5^th set it is our Lleyton!

In the grand game of tennis it is never over till the last point is played, however you can’t help but be calmly confident when a player such as Hewitt is in a 5^th set situation, he seems to revel in the opportunity as indeed he did, finishing the match with a 6-2 victory in the 5^th , he bowed to the crowd and kissed his beloved Melbourne Park centre court, he had clinched the crucial first tie of a Davis Cup final, on home soil in front of a crowd who have grown to love him loudly  and appreciate his champion heart….

And so the second rubber began with Mark Philippoussis looking nervous and perhaps again overawed by the huge occasion in front of a hometown crowd…

Mark’s game is so different to that of Hewitt and Ferrero’s that it seemd frustrating to watch, although serving well he was surprised by Moya’s brilliant serving display and powerful passing shots – had someone dared to mention this Spaniard couldn’t play on grass?  The surface seemed no problem and indeed it seemed to compliment the Moya game today…. Eeek , I’m sure Fitzie was already dreading the headlines in tomorrow’s papers!

Mark went down in the first and second sets but proved in the third set that the Davis Cup means as much to him as it does to all his teammates – he was here for a fight and he lifted himself with the help of the Fanatics roaring him to success in the third set and hoping he could carry the momentum into the 4^th.

The fourth set was closely contested and came down to a tiebreak, but Carlos Moya held his nerve and produced a brilliant serving display to clinch a well deserved win – beware Lleyton this little bloke is also seriously passionate when playing for his country!

So it was that we left the tennis centre, exhausted from our cheering efforts and with “mixed emotions” over a win/loss situation – I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Mark and dreading what the sometimes less than subtle journalists would write the next day….

Perhaps what expressed the game best were the pictures of Lleyton watching from the sidelines – at one moment pumping his fist in appreciation and the next moment covering his face in frustration – it was that sort of performance, but Mark had given the best he had to give on the day and perhaps this loss would inspire him to grander things on Sunday?

Given a frustrating error with our mobile phone (we were only trying to do the right thing and switch if off during the tennis) we were unable to use it for the remainder of the weekend and given that we were in Richmond and Kerrin and her mates were in the city it proved difficult to keep in touch as we had planned – we did head out to the Red Eagle after dinner to watch the Fanatics party on but missed the girls here as well – not to worry we were pretty tired anyway and were out as soon as our heads hit the pillow back at our hotel.

After a spot of “Bridge Road” shopping it was with great anticipation that we headed for Melbourne Park again to watch Todd Woodbridge and Wayne Arthurs take on Alex Corretja and Feliciano Lopez in the now absolutely vital doubles rubber…. Talk about pressure!

Todd and Wayne merged looking fresh in white and the Spaniards were today in red – a hot choice for another stinking hot summers day, Wayne looked nervous as he always does on these big occasions but Todd looked as cool as a cucumber – he probably has more finals experience than any other Australian player and I think this must really stand him in a great position on these big occasions.

There are not enough superlatives that could describe the flawless effort of these two men on Saturday, they produced the performance of a lifetime to wipe Corretja and Lopez off the court in three enthralling sets.

Todd, who usually struggles a little on serve, produced amazing service games and fantastic volleys that it seemed were just never going to miss their target and he was backed up equally well by a confident Wayne Arthurs who seemed to just be reveling in this hometown situation – here was his chance to banish forever the painful loss to France in 2001, here was another chance for this popular bloke to shine – the Fanatics really love Wayne and they lift him like no others can.

There was never any doubt that Alex Corretja who had stirred the crowd against Lleyton Hewitt in the Barcelona 2000 final was going to be in for some “curry (or would it be “paella”?) from the Fanatics this day – however it was typical Australian “cheek” that greeted him, not vicious taunts or unsportsmanlike behaviour – a few choice songs, a blow up doll in his honour and a few throwaway lines (my favourite? … “Can you hear the drums, Fernando?”)…

All in all it was a thoroughly enjoyable match (unless of course you were Spanish) and we ended the afternoon sitting on the lawn with a few champagnes listening to a great Reggae band that were playing at the Heinekin bar on the hill…

In high spirits we headed back down Swan Street for a bit of a “pub crawl” on the way home, ran in to some other tennis supporters, had a few drinks with them at one pub then made our way to the next one for dinner then back to the beer garden at our hotel for a final couple of drinks before hitting the hay again in exhaustion!  Life is good!

Much was said at our hotel breakfast the next morning about the “lack of confidence” in Mark Philippoussis being able to get us over the line – “it will all fall on Lleyton’s shoulders” was the general consensus…

As much as I am a huge Lleyton fan, I did think though wouldn’t it be wonderful if Mark took this huge opportunity he had to be a hero in a hometown victory – it doesn’t get any better than that in his sport and he has had so many shattering injuries along the way – it seemed a fitting end to what would be a fairytale story if he could pull it off…

(I however have to admit to being as unconfident about that final statement as the rest of them!).

And so it was that we headed in to Melbourne Park, caught up with Alison our “lift home”, unloaded our bags and took our seats for the next story to unfold before our eyes…

Mark came out looking stern and determined, no doubt all the Aussies had been in his ear before this one, telling him it was his turn to shine, willing him on to great things, hoping he could deliver!

The match started and Mark looked sharp and ready to run – Fitzie had gone to great lengths to tell him to move his feet in the first tie and it seemed that finally the message had gotten through – if he wanted to win this match against this classy opponent he was going to have to run!

Mark’s serve seemed on song which always gives him confidence and the crowd certainly weren’t showing him any disloyalty in their respect for his game – they were screaming for success – they wanted him to taste what each one of his teammates had tasted already.

Mark’s game plan seemed to be to attack the net whenever he could and he stuck to this game plan well – not being put off when Juan Carlos produced some clever passing shots,

Mark is such a threatening force on the net and serve volley is his natural game, he looked in control in the first two sets but somehow we knew the little scrapper at the other end was not going to fall over!

The third and fourth set were disastrous for Philippoussis, his serve left him completely, double faults were frustratingly regular and Ferrero had found his intensity again and most of his shots were winners…. The pendulum had well and truly swung in the favour of the Spaniard!

The scores were leveled at two sets each and the entire Australian team (along with Nick Philippoussis) retreated from the Arena to the privacy of the rooms, a toilet break and some serious massage work were in order… When Mark came back on to the court it was only to lie on the ground on a towel to have further work done on what must have been an excruciating injury to his shoulder but alas Juan Carlos was also receiving treatment on his tired legs so hope (although slim) was still alive as Fitzie sent his gladiator back into the ring willing him to play through the pain…

It is here I must confess to a seriously negative thought…. Just retire injured Mark and let Lleyton get on with the job …. How silly I feel now for doubting the sincerity of Mark’s commitment to the cause …he was about to prove all the doubters wrong and what happened next could never have been wagered by even the most fearless of punters!

Mark could hardly serve the ball in his opening game, pain echoed through the arena with every shot and you could not help but think that retirement from this match was imminent, however miraculously (and with help I suspect from whatever Greek God this man worships) he was able to pull off the first game and then immediately and incredulously break the serve of the great Spaniard in the second game… a glimmer of hope was alive… but could he survive another few games?

In what was a heart warming performance Mark never looked back, he gritted his teeth through the pain and became the Man we now know he can be, in front of a crowd

hysterical in their worship of his efforts and in front of a Father fighting tears of deep pride this big Australian showed us his heart and brought home the victory… sealing the Davis Cup for Australia 6 love in the 5^th set with what must have been a pain filled overhead smash that was never ever going to miss it’s mark…. He collapsed to the ground, a spent force, but somehow we all knew it was all worth it – given the same opportunity again we’re sure he’d play through that pain for such a glorious win – well done Mark, you’ve silenced your critics in the most satisfying way.

The Aussies celebrated with huge smiles, lifted the ice filled Esky over Fitzie’s head, chased each other around like excited young boys – but boys is not the adjective to be used on this team today – they were a team of “men” who each contributed to a huge success on home soil – to the winners go the spoils but their worthy opponents had put up a great fight and could be proud also of their performance…

And so it is here the dream ends, wake me up in February when it starts all over again!