The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1940-08-15


was free now-entirely free-to
concentrate On making of himself
the greatest tennis player the
world had ever known. And beat
ing Lefvre would be the initial
step in attaining the height of his
ambition. ...-
He could visualize the future.
First Wimbledon. Then Auteuil
where he would win the Davis
Cup for America. After Auteuil,
the National Doubles at Boston,
probably with Clark as his part
ner. Following the Doubles would
come the National Singles at For
est Hills. At this, the nations ten
mis- event of the year, he would
, prove conclusively that he was no
mere flash in the pan. He would
win the championship. The news
papers would sing his praises,
compare him to the greats of 9TH
er days.
The Nationals over, he would
be invited to Newport to play in
the annual Fall tournament. A
telegram undoubtedly would be
forwarded to him from Berkeley
Helen Willis home town-in-
viting him to take part in the
tournament there. He would ac-
cept, of course. He would play not
only in Berkeley, but all along
in Berkeley, but all along the
Pacific coast-San Francisco, Los
Angels, Pasadena, Balboa, Del
Monte, Aqua Caliente.
The South would call next.
While Winter SHOWS shrouded the
states above the Mason-Dixon line
he and perhaps Don Clark and
Wheatley would travel each week
to a different southern city.
In February they would play at
Havana, and from Havana catch
a boat to Bermuda. After Ber-
muda there would be the usual
lull of a few short weeks to al
low them to rest a while. Then
they would plunge into intensive
training for the Davis cup team.
The check from Dan Worthng-
ton he would return if it was sent
to him. That he had determined.
He'd show them he wasn't quite
as big bum as they thought. He
didn't need money.
He crushed the cablegram into
a tight ball, walked to the rail
and threw it into thea<s !ea.
At the rail outside Clark's ca
bin stood Frank Wheatley.
eli, Roll.n His voice was
strange. He kept looking out over
the water.
"Nice," Len murmured.
eyes," Wheatley said, "isn't it?
Sometimes it gets me-"
"What?"
'The life we lead. Sometimes l
think of setting down and getting
married"
Len stood silent, thinking. .
''But what have I to offer a girl
besides lot of useless cups and
medals? I've only a few tennis
years left, at best. But what
could I do if I gave it up now?
What can I do when I finally
have to give it up? Sell insurance
the rest of my life? Maybe. But
can't sell; I'm the worlds worst
salesman. So what? If I was lucky
enough to find a job I'd have to
start where the high school grad
uate starts, at the beginning. At
thirty-two."
"That's not DID," Len defended.
"You could turn pro-"
"I wouldn't have a chance
against Tilden and Vines and that
gang. I'm only on the cup team
today, Rolly, because King and
Reynolds turned pro. And I'm not
very colorful, you know. Not like
you with a smashing overhead
and screwball service. I'm just
one of those plodders who got to
the top by pulling pretty hard at
the boot-straps. But now that I'm
here, I wonder if it was worth all
the time and effort and sacrifices.
Where do I go from here? When
I'm all washed up, I mean, Rolly."
Len said: II had two years Of
the other life and I came back to
tennis. I didn't have to. I just
wanted to; I like it better"
'That's exactly the trouble"
Wheatley replied. "You like it
better. I tell you, Rollins, it's like
a narcotic; when it gets you, you
can't break away"
Len shrugged.
you're lucky, an exception,
Rollins. You have wife who
helps you keep your balance, who
keeps you from letting the dope
get too strong hold upon you.
You're managing to live two lives
at the same time. Few, if any, of