By Phil Jarratt
With Australia’s summer of tennis officially wrapped up two weeks ago in Burnie, Tasmania, Noosa’s Wimbledon and Grand Slam veteran Ron McKenzie’s blood is finally heading south of boiling point.
At the height of the Australian Open controversies in late January, the 81-year-old Noosa Waters resident wrote to Noosa Today: “Every year at this time my temperature rises at the sheer inanity of the anonymous officials who make decisions about the rules of tennis.
The latest piece of crass stupidity is allowing coaching during a match. I nearly smashed my TV when the commentator stated that Casper Rudd was asking his father where he should stand to receive serve! Tennis grand slams, or at least the men’s singles events, are an incredible test of skill and athletic speed and stamina where the single aim is to beat your opponent. How anybody with any tennis knowledge could think that allowing coaching would help the contest or spectacle is beyond me.”
Clearly a product of his times, long before gender equality in sport was a thing, Ron continued his rant: “I played all the grand slams in the ‘60s, albeit as a very mediocre hacker. Back then men were real men and the rule was that play was continuous. I played Wimbledon three times and there were no breaks, not even after the third set. After three years on the circuit neither myself nor any of my opponents had ever left the court for a toilet break. This week Djokovic wanted a break before he had started! Players blatantly abuse the system calling for trainers, toilet breaks, medical time outs, different coloured underpants and whatever else they decide is reasonable, but only when they are losing.”
Ron signed off as “Ron McKenzie (irritable, geriatric octogenarian)”.
I decided to drop into his Tewantin office to see if maybe his bark was worse than his bite. A tall, upright fellow with a moustache of Newkian proportions (“I had mine before he had his,” he hurriedly tells me), Ron had emailed me beforehand to find how I took my coffee, and when I arrive right on time at 10am, he greets me with a firm handshake and a long black and two in the other fist.
Clearly a man of manners and a stickler for punctuality. We’re off to a roaring start.
While Ron pulls out some memorabilia, including the program from his first Wimbledon in 1963, we talk about his years on the circuit: “The first year I toured with a friend and after the season was over we stayed in a flat in Putney over Christmas and both got jobs. I sold ski boots in Lillywhites in Piccadilly Circus until the circuit began again on the Riviera.”
At the end of the European season, travelling from tournament to tournament in an old car with a couple of mates, Ron heard that the American players association had organised a free charter flight to Forest Hills, so he hopped on and played in his only US Open.
He recalls: “After that I was on the West Coast and looking for the cheapest passage home. I ended up on a Swedish freighter from Los Angeles to Brisbane, chipping rust off the deck every day for 17 days to pay my fare.”
It all sounds like a grand adventure, but Ron remembers tough times along the way.
“I think the difference between my day and now is that most of the players are doing it for a living.
“In my time only the greatest could make a living, the rest of us were doing it for the experience and the adventure, not expecting any money, just hoping to survive. And the depth of talent today is a thousand times what it was back then.
“I got into Wimbledon three times without having to qualify, that tells you something. At Wimbledon we got 50 pounds for expenses and free lunch tickets for the players’ restaurant, and also two guest passes every second day for the centre court, which we flogged for 20 quid. Now you get $85,000 if you’re in the first round!”
Like new Tewantin Tennis Club coach Pete Taylor, Ron takes some pride in having been a “journeyman”, but he had his moments over a decade of top flight tennis.
“I beat some good players in my time. I beat John Newcombe in the semis in a big country tournament in Warrnambool, then lost to Tony Roche in the final. I was always fairly realistic about my ability, that I was nothing flash.
“I was top 10 in Victoria at a time when there were no national rankings, and I played to the best of my limited ability. I got into Wimbledon the first time because I beat UK number one Billy Knight in Manchester two weeks before. That was splashed all over the papers, ‘Aussie unknown beats our number one’.”
Ron puts the changes in the modern game down to the enormous prize money now on offer.
“The gradual growth of prize money changed the game. I remember playing the Australian Open at Kooyong just after I’d started working at Mentone, which is about 30 mins drive away. I’d asked for time off and they gave me a couple of hours. I was drawn to play an English guy called Mike Sangster who had the fastest serve in the world. It was a really hot day and I was soaked with sweat when I pulled up in the car park just as my name was being called. I was on court 20 minutes later, off it in another hour and back to work by 3pm.
“No coach, no entourage, just me sweating in my car.”
So who does Ron rate from his era and the present?
“I think Kyrgios is a very talented disgrace, but he’s by no means the first. McEnroe effectively cheated through his tantrums for years. I can’t stand Djokovic either but he’s probably the best player ever.
“But from an aesthetic point of view, Federer was the best.
“In the women’s, Evonne Goolagong was a lovely player to watch, but Margaret was the best of her era. Like all of my era, I thought Lew Hoad was the best of the men.”
