UNEARTHED: THE PROBLEM WITH AUSTRALIAN TENNIS

For over 20 years, Australian tennis has undergone its annual period of introspection over the last fortnight of January.

As local hopes come and go equally quickly during the first week of the Australian Open, the perennial question is raised: what has gone wrong with Australian tennis?

For a country with such a proud Davis Cup history, and the producer of a string of Grand Slam champions in the 1950s, 60s and 70s, the dearth of current stars in the decades since has been sorrowful and soul-destroying.

Not since Mark Edmondson in 1976 and Chris O'Neil in 1978 scored unlikely victories
have Australians claimed the singles crowns at their home Grand Slam. Since then, of course, Evonne Goolagong Cawley, Pat Cash, Pat Rafter and Lleyton Hewitt have won
other Grand Slam titles and proudly carried the hopes of their nation to Kooyong and, in the years since 1988, Melbourne Park. Despite their heroics, however, the home trophy cabinet has been bare.

So again, we pose that question, what's wrong with Australian tennis?

Well, there are many reasons, including the well documented increase in popularity of the sport on a global basis, reaching out to far more countries and players than in the past, and the growth and popularity of competing sports in our own backyard.

But one reason not generally flagged is this: real estate. We are often told that Australia has the most expensive real estate in the country, and now it's having an adverse impact on sport.

Despite the vastness of the Australian continent, around 90% of our 22 million inhabitants are urban dwellers, and most of us live in cities on the south-eastern seaboard. Our cities are being stretched to breaking point, and the price of land has increased accordingly.

So what's all this to do with tennis? Well, let's add squash into the equation as well.

Baby boomers growing up in the tennis golden years will remember the lay of the land. Quarter-acre blocks, hills hoists, footy ovals, cricket pitches... and, yes, tennis and squash courts.


It was a way of life for the kids of the 60s. Find a tennis court, have a hit. Since then, some footy ovals and cricket pitches have become victims to the developers and bulldozers, but our cities are still generally well served in catering for those team sports.


For tennis and squash, however, it's a different story. Most have made way for housing or, perhaps, general community facilities. How many squash courts can you think of in your area? Or tennis courts for that matter?


You see, both tennis and squash are somewhat exclusive sports, not in elitist terms but, by their very nature, in providing opportunities for mass participation. A tennis court caters for a maximum of four players at any one time, with occupation generally for an hour or more.


As a consequence, court operators promote coaching clinics to increase revenue, and
members rightfully assume their time and territory as well. It all means the old days of rolling along to a perhaps net bedraggled, surface eroding, but nonetheless vacant, tennis court and having a hit for fun, is an activity of the past.


Like much of society in 2010, securing a tennis court is a more organised and structured chore than the carefree ways that encouraged the participation, and ultimate development, of names like Laver, Roche, Newcombe, Court and Goolagong.


Not all kids want structure in their down time. As well intentioned as Tennis Australia and various development programs may be, not all kids want to spend their time at coaching clinics. Initially at least, most of them just want to go an have fun over their summer holidays, whether that's by a swimming pool, at the beach, on their bikes or... on a tennis court.

So, the simplistic answer is this. Turn back the clock. Provide more community tennis facilities for kids to develop an interest in the game and include it in their fun time. From there, the serious contenders will become apparent. That's the time for coaching clinics and tennis camps.

With real estate values the way they are, it's easier said than done.