The spring of 2020 will ooze into the history books as one of the most dire and confusing periods in the history of tennis, in general, and the world as a whole for that matter. The COVID-19 pandemic brought pretty much everything everywhere to its knees. Death was chronicled every evening on the news. The economic collapse that was mindlessly driven by dysfunctional government decision-making gave birth to generalized desperation. The resulting “could this be the Apocalypse” trepidations gathered fears that have wound themselves around anything and everything that was pertinent to life and a lot that wasn’t.
Finally, in May, there appeared to be a glimmer of hope for reconstructing the world as we had come to know it. Coronavirus’ social-distancing restrictions were being loosened. It looked as if, after months of quarantine – virtually worldwide – there would be an opportunity to breathe freely, albeit with a mask, to limit exposure to the virus which could possibly mutate and become even more dangerous than the first version.
Sadly, the hopes were just that – “hopes”. On May 25th in Minneapolis, Minnesota, a cellphone video captured a confrontation. Millions watched in horror as a police officer named Derek Chauvin knelt on the neck of George Floyd for eight minutes and 43 seconds. The ghastly result – The 46-year-old African-American was dead before he was lifted into an ambulance that was finally brought to the scene.
I continually replay that event in my mind. I cannot make it go away… What is worse, as a long-time journalist, I am unable to find words that come anywhere close to describing what I and the rest of the world witnessed.
The reaction to the execution was swift in the US and internationally, too. Hundreds of thousands of people began to march, many carrying signs with Floyd’s last words – “I Can’t Breathe”. They did it, for the most part, peacefully day after day after day. Emotions were raw. As is often the case in troubled times, some decided to take advantage of the complex situation. They literally and figuratively tossed matches on a world full of freshly split kindling and watched as property, along with spirit, was destroyed. In the US, it was reminiscent of bygone protests that ended up destroying cities in the sixties and again in the riots after police were acquitted of the Rodney King beating nearly thirty years ago in Los Angeles. Humanity was running scared then, and now it was running again.
This time the dynamic has been different. “Black Lives Matter” has become the chant. It has filled the streets and has been shouted from the rooftops from virtually everywhere by everyone.
The outpouring of grief left national and local officials aghast and shaken. In some cases, leaders were visibly overcome in an effort to respond reasonably. Members of the athletic community at large, weighed in supporting the necessity of bringing about change. The reaction from tennis players was clear. They made their voices heard. Frances Tiafoe, James Blake, Katrina Adams, along with Taylor Townsend, Sloane Stephens, and both Serena and Venus Williams spoke candidly about how they had been dealing with racism because of their skin color their entire lives. Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, whose father is Congolese and whose mother is French, addressed what it was like to be “different”, as a youngster, in Le Mans, France. Naomi Osaka has a Haitian father and a Japanese mother. Given the cultural type-casting that can dictate public perception in many Asian societies, she elaborated on being a “hafu” (only half-Japanese), which, to some, made her almost a non-person.
Of all of those in the tennis world who reacted to George Floyd’s death, Coco Gauff was the valedictorian of the class. She spoke to a crowd during a “Peaceful Protest” in Delray Beach, Florida telling those on hand about her grandmother’s struggles generations ago. Her call to action was as eye opening as it was chilling. As she has shown on the court, “She is wise beyond her years…”
Tennis is constantly touted as the “Game of a Lifetime” without the appropriate asterisks noting – “If you meet certain standards”. While the sport has improved its inclusion policies in recent decades, its past is tainted with the slights that were pervasive if you happened to be Black, Brown or any color but White.
Historically, “diversification” has lumbered along at a laggardly pace. That is why the American Tennis Association was founded on November 30, 1916. Over the years, the ATA has become one of the major organizations representing African-American tennis in the US. Simply put, prejudice brought about its inception. The Association Tennis Club of Washington, D.C., and the Monumental Tennis Club of Baltimore, Maryland, joined forces in response to the United States Lawn Tennis Association’s policy of excluding players of color from participating in tournaments.
In those days, “East was East, and West was West”, and the difference between the two regions was more than geographic. But, make no mistake, both areas had to confront the same attitudes toward racial acceptance, which was the reason that players from in and around Los Angeles established The Western Federation of Tennis Clubs in 1916. The TWFTC was the West Coast counterpart of the ATA.
The first meeting of the TWFTC took place at the YMCA in downtown Los Angeles. Today, the organization is known as Pacific Coast Championship, Inc. and includes clubs from San Diego to Sacramento. The ATA has received kudos for opening tennis doors for African-American players. The TWFTC should not be overlooked for the essential role it played in the progress that slowly made its way across the country.
Looking back, it is ironic that in tennis history, little if any mention is ever made of Howard and Tuskegee Universities offering students an opportunity to play tennis beginning in the 1890s. Another significant, but ignored, reality is that at the end of the decade – 1898 to be specific – African-American players from the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast were taking part in tournaments that were staged at the Chautauqua Tennis Club in Philadelphia.
In the 104 years since the ATA and TWFTC came into being, change has taken tenuous strides. Generally, advances have been patterned by irregular steps, almost as if the attempts were searching for concrete reasons to take detours. Looking at the real picture, beyond the public relations applause, the “progress” took place in cul de sacs with rarely an exit.
Fortunately, there were situations when every street was not a dead end. Sadly, memories of the successful excursions have been fleeting, leaving many of those who remained still disenfranchised and still searching for pathways that would lead to different and truly meaningful results.
On July 29, 1940, Jimmie McDaniel, the ATA singles champion, played an exhibition match against Don Budge, the 1938 Grand Slam tournament winner, at the Cosmopolitan Club in Harlem, New York. Though McDaniel lost in straight sets, the contest was historic because it was the first ever between a top African-American and a White player of note.

Don Budge and Jimmy McDaniel (Photo from Whirlwind The Godfather Of Black Tennis by Doug Smith)
Budge complimented his opponent’s playing ability and opined that if McDaniel had an opportunity to compete against the best players in the country, “he’d rank in the first 10.”
The first National Junior Public Parks Championships was staged in 1948 at Griffith Park, a recreational facility near the present day Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, California. Oscar Johnson, a Los Angeles native, won the Boys’ singles, becoming the first African-American to earn a USLTA championship.
Nonetheless, tennis’ racial barriers remained rigid until 1950 when Althea Gibson was allowed to play the US National Championships at Forest Hills, New York. Today, fans of the game are aware that Gibson and later, Arthur Ashe made a “difference”. They have been lauded for doing so. But, why were they the only ones? What happened to the others who tried to follow in their footsteps?
Henry Talbert, who passed away on January 12, 2014 in Los Angeles, was the first African-American USLTA administrator. In 1974, the UCLA graduate became the Tennis Programming Director at the organization’s New York City office. The appointment was a step in the right direction, but not a full-stride. Some community activists felt that Talbert was being forced to “tippy-toe” in order not to set-off the blink of a caution light because an African-American had been “placed in charge”. An exemplary individual, he survived the close scrutiny that ensued so that another silent milestone was passed.
At the beginning of 2015, Katrina Adams scored a resounding and deserved “triple.” She became the first African-America to hold the office of President, Chairman and CEO of the United States Tennis Association. She was also the first former professional tennis player and the youngest individual to have assumed that position.

Katrina Adams posing between Madison Keys and Sloane Stephens following the final of the 2017 US Open.
Those mentioned above are each a credit to the game. But, for every Adams there have been thousands of other deserving individuals who have been overlooked because of something that they had no choice in – The color of their skin. Former President Barack Obama summed up the issues very well, saying, “Every step of progress in this country, every expansion of freedom, every expression of our deepest ideals have been won through efforts that made the status quo uncomfortable.”
There are still countless individuals of color, who have dedicated their lives to the game, yet their talents are under-utilized. They include administrators, university coaches, teaching professionals, local leaders and more. Many have been forced to “bite their tongues”. They know the “Silent Code” not to speak about such things as program inadequacies, compensation inequalities and being forced to contend with short term or annually renewable contracts which don’t foster job security confidence. They have become almost mute because of an ingrained fear that has escalated over the years due to the whim of an economy that undervalues their skill. Simply said, it is because they are Black and very likely viewed as expendable.
When I am not travelling the world writing about tennis, I have a home in a town that is part of Los Angeles County. That we, as a culture and more to the point a society, have barely moved beyond the Watts Riots of 1965, or Rodney King’s verdict on April 29, 1992 is baffling to me. It definitely reflects on everyone in America and for that matter, the world.
The killing of George Floyd may have tipped the US and other countries toward making credible reform. But, one thing is certain, reality must walk hand in hand with change. Reform can no longer be like a never-ending rondo. (A rondo is a musical form that keeps returning to the composition.) Music from the past must be remembered, but now a new tune needs to be composed. It must feature meaningful choruses that remind us how far we have come, along with how far we still have to go.
As society grapples with the ramifications of Minneapolis, the game must set itself apart and show that actions do speak louder than words – really. “Black and White” should only bring to mind an antique photograph. Times have changed. The status quo no longer works anywhere. There is no place for prejudice. It will no longer be tolerated.
Tennis, if it actually is “The Game of a Lifetime” should involve a ball, a net, a couple of racquets and at least two individuals – With no mention of ethnicity.