Wimbledon Eve

DEAR GEORGE, Wimbledon is the world’s oldest tennis tournament, dating back to 1877 at the All England Club in suburban London. It has the distinction of being the only Grand Slam tournament played on grass courts. (There are four Grand Slams: the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon, and the US Open.) This year’s Wimbledon has special significance since the tournament was cancelled in 2020 because of the pandemic, its only cancellation since World War II. Americans aren’t as dominant as they were years ago. There are no American men seeded in the top 25, and only 3 seeded at all — Reilly Opelka at 27; John Isner, 28; and Taylor Fritz, 31. American women did better: Sofia Kenin, 4; Serena Williams, 6; Coco Gauff, 20; Jessica Pegula, 22; Madison Keys, 23; and Allson Riske, 28.

Two legendary players, members of the old guard, are seeking to add to their remarkable Wimbledon records. With 8 previous tournament victories, Roger Federer, age 39, has the best Wimbledon record of any man in the open era, and a ninth title this year would tie him with Martina Navratilova for the most of all times. However, no man over age 35 has ever won Wimbledon. Despite his two knee surgeries and a year of rehabilitation, fellow players and tennis experts aren’t counting Federer out. Second seed Daniil Medvedev observed, “I think Wimbledon is always — even when he will be 50 years old — a great chance for him.” The tournament also has historical implications for American super-star, Serena Williams. With her formidable serve and powerful groundstrokes, Williams’ game is perfectly suited for grass-court tennis, and she has won Wimbledon 14 times in singles, doubles, and mixed doubles. At age 39 and seeded 6th, she needs one more victory to tie her with Margaret Court for the all-time Grand Slam victory total of 24, and she’s been pursuing that milestone since coming back from childbirth in 2017.

Novak Djokovic is the clear men’s favorite this year. A five-time Wimbledon winner, if he wins the tournament this year, it will be his 20th Grand Slam title and put him in a three-way tie with Federer and Rafael Nadal. Djokovic’s aspirations are entirely clear. After the French Open in May he commented, “I don’t have an issue to say that I’m going for the title in Wimbledon. Of course, I am.” Having already won the Australian Open and the French Open this year, Djokovic is in a position to win a calendar Grand Slam of all four major tournaments (if he wins at Wimbledon and the US Open), a feat no male player has accomplished in the last 51 years.

Not all the top players are playing. Rafael Nadal, currently number three in the world and a member of the Big Three who have dominated men’s tennis since 2003 (Federer, Nadal, Djokovic), recently withdrew from Wimbledon A two-time winner on Wimbledon’s grass courts, Nadal lost in a thrilling five-set French Open finals last month to Novak Djokovic, and, at age 34, he said he was “listening to his body” and forgoing Wimbledon to “prolong my career and continue to do what makes me happy.” Another of my favorites, Naomi Osaka, the No. 2 ranked women’s tennis player in the world, announced on June 17 that she was withdrawing from Wimbledon. According to a statement released by her agent, “She is taking some personal time with friends and family She will be ready for the Olympics and is excited to play in front of her home fans [in Japan].” At the recent French Open Osaka withdrew after the first round during controversy regarding her decision to skip required post match news interviews. Osaka revealed that she had been dealing with anxiety and depression issues since winning the US Open in 2018. I hope she’ll be back for the US Open at the end of August.

We also have our eye on Coco Gauff, the 17-year-old American who is partnering in Ladies’ Doubles with Cincinnati native, Caty McNally, and who captured fans’ attention by reaching the fourth round at Wimbledon in 2019. Gauff reached the quarterfinals at the French Open last month, and she won the singles and doubles titles on clay courts at the 2021 Emilia-Romagna Open at Parma, Italy.

The only other man to win two Wimbledon titles in the last 20 years, Scotland’s Andy Murray is a dark horse at Wimbledon. After two hip surgeries and recurrent injuries, Murray has returned to the singles draw at Wimbledon for the first time since 2017. A British crowd favorite, Murray has said that his prospects at Wimbledon this year are unknown.

It seems like the Big Three have dominated men’s tennis forever, but the younger generation, now in their mid-twenties, are nipping at their heels, and it wouldn’t be surprising if one of them captured the title this year. The top contenders are: Daniel Medvedev (Russia, seeded 2nd), Stefanos Tsitsipas (Greece, seeded 3rd), Alexander Zverev (Germany, seeded 4), Andrey Rublev (Russian, seeded 5th), and Matteo Berrettini (Italy, seeded 7th). Tsitsipas nearly upset Djokovic in a five-set thriller at the French Open final, Berrettini also pushed Djokovic to the limit in the French quarter-finals, and Medvedev is a two-time Grand Slam finalist and winner of the 2021 ATP Finals. The other top-ranked younger player, Austrian Dominic Thiem, who won the 2020 US Open, had to withdraw from Wimbledon because of injuries.

After a two-year wait, we are eager to watch lots of this year’s Wimbledon. Our hearts are with Roger Federer and Serena Williams, but we’re prepared for other more likely outcomes too. It’s at times like this that we appreciate what a miracle television is. In some ways it’s almost as good as being on the scene. Coverage on ESPN of Round 1 starts at 6 a.m. tomorrow. We’ll probably tune in a little bit later. LOVE, DAVE

Father's Day Musings

DEAR GEORGE, My dad always asked us not to bother with Father’s Day, claiming that holidays and presents were only for children. The four of us bought gifts for him anyway, spending 10 or 15 cents apiece at the Five and Dime. Parental roles and parent-child relations were vastly different back then. When I was a toddler behaviorist John B. Watson wrote in the most popular child-rearing book of the day, “Never hug and kiss them, never let them sit on your lap. If you must, kiss them once on the forehead when they say good night. Shake hands with them in the morning…If you expected a dog to grow up and be useful as a watch dog, a bird dog, a fox hound, useful for anything except a lap dog, you wouldn’t dare treat it the way you treat your child.”

Most families we knew in our hometown had 3 or 4 kids, and mothers almost never worked outside the home. Father was the breadwinner, mother the homemaker. We learned from many sources that men were ideally strong, hard-working, and nonemotional, while women were warm, nurturing, and instinctively suited to be mothers. These stereotypes played out in my family. My father, while an exceptional and admirable person in many respects, could be emotionally distant and authoritarian. Having served as an officer in the Navy in World War II, he brought his military experience home with him. Children were of the “lower orders”, and we were instructed to obey orders to the letter and not question parental decisions. My father encouraged achievement in many domains, holding his kids to high standards and demanding perfection, so much so that my younger sister defensively prefaced any performance by saying, “This is not my best.” I should admit, though, that we all turned out well.

By 1969, when Katja and I had a son of our own, (J), it was a new and different era for fathers and mothers. Traditional gender roles were on the way out, it was commonplace for women to work outside the home, and fathers were expected to play an active role in childcare. In addition, there were major differences in our situation simply as a function of family size. In my four-child family of origin daily life was more complex and more chaotic. Parents and children constituted two distinct subgroups. The children spent most of their time playing with one another, often engaging in dysfunctional behavior which called for parental intervention and sometimes a spanking. In J’s case, virtually all of his household transactions were with adults (i.e., Katja and myself), more grown-up, more reasonable, and he became a mature kid as a consequence. With no brothers or sisters in sight, I was J’s primary playmate at home. I found that role completely enjoyable, a chance to live out childhood over again. As J grew older, we went to thrift stores together, visited the art museum and the zoo, took the dog for walks in the forest, played tennis, watched TV, went to the movies, and ate out as a family at Skyline Chili. Instead of a big group with a rigid parent-child hierarchy, we operated pretty much as a close, egalitarian threesome.

We were thrilled last week when J, about to celebrate his 52nd birthday, visited us from New Orleans for a long weekend. J and I went to three thrift shops and found amazing treasures. Despite a relatively high income, J remains a thrift store addict. He reveled in the used 99-cent Sohio T-shirt he found at St. Vincent de Paul and worried that he’d paid too much for his brand-new Calvin Klein pants ($12.79). He and I took the dog for long outings in Burnet Woods and our Clifton neighborhood, and we did an art museum tour. Our best stop was the 21C Museum Hotel on Walnut Street downtown which was displaying wonderful contemporary art. The Contemporary Art Center, on the other hand, was a complete bust. We felt sad for the little children whose parents had to lead them through four floors of dull and meaningless displays (and also for the young couple who appeared to be struggling through a failed first date). Katja joined us for an outing at the Cincinnati Art Museum, and we lingered over a garden lunch at the Museum Cafe. This was French Open week and we were thrilled to watch the semi-final clash between Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal. Then J went out to play tennis with a local nationally ranked junior player. Since we’d been a tennis family throughout J’s teenage years, his mom and I were happy for his renewed interest in the sport. We ate at Skyline Chili twice, had our fanciest meal at the Dusmesh Indian restaurant near Cincinnati State, and indulged ourselves at Dewey’s Pizza. Most of all, we shared lots of laughs and happy memories. Then it was over, and we couldn’t have asked for a more perfect visit. It’s when J comes home that our little family seems whole again. Thinking about our time together, it dawned on me that our family routines have been much the same as they were forty years ago.

What also strikes me is that there are many ways to be a good father. What worked for my parents fit who they were and the world they lived in, as did Katja’s and my parenting approach. Now J and K are parents to two preteens of their own, and their family patterns are once again different. The children are immersed in the digital world, the family is more attentive to social justice issues, and they take full advantage of New Orleans music and culture. In some ways child-rearing nowadays is more challenging than ours was, and J is a terrific father. There’s a lot to be thankful for this Father’s Day. LOVE, DAVE

The Outing

DEAR GEORGE: Katja and I have enjoyed Sunday brunches at the Broadway Cafe for at least thirty years. We bring along the Sunday Enquirer, and Katja does the Jumble while I scan the TV Week and read the sports pages. The Broadway chefs are breakfast masters. Perfect fried eggs or French toast, delicious hash browns, crispy bacon. A delightful end of the week for families and retired folk.

All this, of course, came to an abrupt halt with the arrival of the pandemic. The Broadway closed its doors to indoor dining, and we stopped going to restaurants altogether. We finally got vaccinated this past March, and we’ve been thinking about going out for breakfast ever since. It took a while, but we made the big decision this past weekend.

We arrived about eleven a.m. There were fewer cars in the parking lot than I remembered, and we found a spot in the front row. The front lobby was empty, and we stood by the hostess’ stand for a few minutes. Restaurant staff flitted by. Finally a masked waitress came out of the kitchen. I couldn’t tell if we knew her or not. She handed us a couple of disposable paper menus (clearly intended for one use only) and asked for our drink orders. Katja said water and black coffee, and I said the same. She pointed toward the dining area and said we could sit anywhere we wanted. There was one couple seated on the north wall and a family of five in the opposite corner. Most of the booths and tables were walled off with cellophane tape and had “Closed” signs. We found a booth far away from the other diners.

As we sat down I noticed a QR code on the wall just above our tabletop (one of those square bar codes with lots of squiggly black lines and white spaces). A small sign just below it said “You can place your order and pay your bill here.” I pushed on the bar code two times with my thumb, but it didn’t do anything. When the waitress came I asked her how to order with the bar code. She said I could take a picture of it with my smart phone, then follow the prompts and email my information to the kitchen. “But,” she added, “I can take your order in person.” Katja ordered two eggs over lightly, whole wheat toast with butter on the side, and bacon. I ordered the same except for link sausage. Normally the waitress would bring a little tray with a variety of jams and jellies, but instead she asked if we wanted grape or strawberry. Apparently offering a tray that other customers had used meant danger. Katja chose strawberry, and I chose grape.

Fifteen minutes later the waitress returned with our order, just as Katja was finishing the Jumble. She gave each of us a cellophane wrapped package containing black plastic silverware and one napkin. The silverware wasn’t the more expensive sturdy grade that we get at the Party Source but small-ish bendable utensils that might come with a McDonald’s Fun Meal. There were no salt and pepper shakers on the table (also to avoid contamination), and the waitress brought little packets at Katja’s request. The food tasted as good as we remembered it, and we ate it up more quickly than usual. Katja complained that the coffee was horrible, but I reminded her that it’s always been horrible. The waitress didn’t return to ask how we were doing but she did finally bring the check. As we left the dining room was empty.

We waited quite a while at the cash register. I joked that we could just walk out without paying, and my evil self wanted to do so. Finally a kitchen worker came out. The bill was $18.50, about three dollars higher than it used to be. The kitchen guy didn’t ask how our meal was, but he did say, “Have a nice day.” To commemorate this historic event, I took a selfie of us standing outside the front door. We had taken the big step of re-entering the world. Unfortunately the world wasn’t quite ready. LOVE, DAVE