Aussie
Aussie
Aussie
Oi,
Oi,
Oi.
By Joel Drucker
Illustration by Sergio Membrillas
Wimbledon, 1968. The No. 1 tennis player in the world, Rod Laver, had hurt his left wrist, the small but significant hinge that allowed him to make all those last-minute adjustments with his Dunlop Maxply for volleys, passing shots, serves, and all else that made him a genius like none other. The wrist would need to be taped.
There was only one logical place to perform this procedure. Making their way discreetly through the streets of London, Laver and his wife, Mary, jointly squeezed into a telephone booth and wrapped the injured wrist. This way, no one would know.
There was tennis to be played. As for injuries, principle No. 1 of the Australian code, expressed by Laver’s rival, lifelong mate, and winner of a men’s record 28 Grand Slam singles and doubles titles, Roy Emerson: “If you’re hurt, don’t play. But if you play, you’re not hurt. There are no excuses.” Of those who cite injuries frequently, the Aussies will say, “I have never played him when he was well,” a veiled form of contempt. No stories, please. Talk is cheap. Action is all, drama often articulated by Aussies this way: “Got through it.”