It had been a tense first set, running nearly an hour, the two men on each other’s heels, and it was the same in the second. And now, with the score 5–6 and 15–40, it was keep-your-nerve time. J.J. Wolf had a double break point on Michael Mmoh, which meant two match points and a ticket to the third round.
Mmoh’s heroics on this very same court, the John Harris Grandstand at the William H.G. FitzGerald Tennis Center at Rock Creek Park, home of the Mubadala Citi Open, had produced the upset of the tournament. He beat the big man (6′ 7″) of Wrocław, Hubert Hurkacz, seeded third partner with ladies’ world No. 1 Iga Świątek to represent Poland at next year’s Olympics, in Paris, if they can maintain order in that city. He won a wildly entertaining doubles match with local hero Frances Tiafoe, wherein they came from behind against Sebastian Korda and Christopher Eubanks, but then they got beat by Glasspool and Heliovaara. I kept asking who these two were and no one could say; but what I will say is that they are the best doubles men in this tournament, which does not mean they will win it. (READ MORE: Incredible Skill and Good Humor: Doubles at the DC Open)
Paris — this is not to digress but an important fact of tennis lore — is the home of the legendary Four Musketeers, whose captain, René Lacoste, stopped Bill Tilden’s dominance of the sport and went on to make a fortune in the polo shirt business, on top of the one he was born into. There is a Lacoste kiosk at the FitzGerald Center this year, so I asked the young man holding it down if he knew who Lacoste is and why is there a little lizard or whatever on all the products they sell. He said Lacoste was a determined striver in France, 1960s or around there, whose dream was to make the French Davis Cup team. He adopted this tough, unflinching animal as his mascot and then made him the logo on the shirts he designed.
I checked to see if he was speaking with a straight face, and I must report he was. He is a model fellow, too, hardworking, any mother would be happy if he courted her daughter, and a Californian to boot, which I realized might explain the confusion.
“Have you ever been to Florida, son?” said I.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. But you are aware they have crocodiles in France?”
“Alligators; they do, yes.”
Mmoh, however, saved the two match points with a service winner and an ace and went on to hold despite Wolf getting two more ad points. They were not only alternating points, they were taking turns making mistakes. Mmoh evened the tiebreak (first to seven points) at 5–5 with a booming serve Wolf returned way long, then gave it back with a double fault. Wolf proceeded to practically flop his first serve into the net, but followed with a boom of his own. Mmoh got his racquet on it and sent it out of bounds.
And so it goes, you beat one of the top guys and then you run into one you think may be easier and he has a game like a blizzard, shots hitting the paint on every side of the court. Spoils your day.
It is fine tournament. I wanted to watch Gael Monfils, one of the original New Musketeers, the ones who, many years after Lacoste & Co. retired, were hyped as — well, exactly that, the new ones. They did well but they did not stop the Tildens of their day. The Tildens of their day stopped themselves, but now we have Michael Mmoh and J.J. (Jeffrey John) Wolf, who played with the Buckeyes at Ohio State, and some others; hope springs eternal. Monfils — most of his fellow musketeers have hung up their racquets — is a past champion here and still a class act. His beloved wife, Elena Svitolina, won her match so I was sure he would win his. But the rain came and the courts were unplayable. Maybe they will play tonight, if the courts dry and they can rig up some lights. You can look it up tomorrow.
In tennis, there is always another day.
