In 1973 I started volunteering as a linesman at the professional tournaments, men's and women's, that were played in the Washington DC area. There were only two of these at the time, a women's indoor tournament in February, sponsored by Virginia Slims, and a men's tournament outdoors in July, during the midst of our usually sweltering summer, played on Har-Tru at a public park at 16th and Kennedy Sts., NW.
My first experience calling lines was at the women's tournament, where I got to meet most of the great players of the time, including Billie Jean King and Chris Evert. That week was mostly uneventful, except for one instance, when I was calling the service line in a match between Aussies Lesley Hunt and Kerry Reid, and I called a serve good that Ms. Hunt thought was a fault, and she missed the ensuing volley, then stared daggers at me, Oh well.
At the men's tournament that July, I had my most amusing experience, and my most difficult assignment, both in the same day. In the morning I had one of the service lines in a match involving Tom Gorman and Jaime Fillol. I noticed that the baselinesman at my end of the court had fallen asleep, but fortunately no balls landed close to the line for a few games.
I had no opportunity to try to wake him before a ball did land just behind the line, and the umpire looked to him for a call. When the umpire's voice boomed over the P.A. system, my colleague awoke and looked around. The umpire again asked for a call, and he stage-whispered to me, "Casey, how was it?" I whispered back, as quietly as I could manage, "Bobby, it was out." He theatrically pointed his hand, yelled "Out!" and play continued, but he was replaced at the next changeover.
Later that day I was assigned the task of jumping serve, meaning I had to call all of the serves at both ends of the court, at a doubles match featuring four of the biggest servers of the time. Arthur Ashe and Roscoe Tanner played Colin Dibley and Phil Dent. The balls were booming all over the court, and it was quite a challenge, but none of the players complained about any of the calls, and Ashe and Dent were both pleasantly complimentary afterwards.
The next year a men's indoor tournament was added to the schedule in Washington, and I had the pleasure of working the final, calling one of the service lines. The match itself was not especially memorable, but what happened just before the players and officials went on to the court was the most memorable and entertaining thing I ever experienced as an official.
The final was between Ilie Nastase, the master of gamesmanship, and Tom Okker, an excellent player, but a nervous, fidgety man. As they were waiting to be introduced, and the players were just a couple of feet away from me, Nastase says to Okker, "You know Tom, when we play, I don't really care if I win or lose."
Okker looked confused, and he replied, "What do you mean Ilie?" Nastase replied, smiling and tapping Okker on the head, "Tom, all I want to do is get to you in there, just get to you in there," as he continued to tap on Okker's head. It was clear the match was already over, and Nastase triumphed easily, 6-3, 6-3, and put on quite a show, mocking Okker, imitating his mannerisms, and drilling him with an overhead along the way, to complete the defeat.
I was actually a little surprised Okker shook hands with him at the end.
Jim Casey
Memory added on May 2, 2014
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