Mike Gasser surfaces after 30 years

Mike Gasser today
Former Frank Brennan Tennis Camp Assistant Head Counselor Mike Gasser(1978-82) surfaced this week after his kids did a Google search and found the old camp photos on the the flickr site.

Mike wrote "God Jake it brings back some great times..Good for you still playing and ranked..I just hit once in a while,like an animal,hit harder now than I did at camp. I still look thru my old album and show my friends and family..tell some stories.. Like the time Roger and I ( I think you were there) went into the Field hockey dorm in the middle of the night with water balloons."

There you have it, the secret is out. Gasser, Dickinson and I waterballooned the hockey camp but never got caught. Mr. B. launched an investigation but it didnt get far. He probably found out about our raid in heaven...I hope he's not mad at us!

Jake

For all those former counselors and campers that want to write Mike his email address is:
badfatboy41@aol.com
Photo on the flickr site:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jack9999p/sets/72157602325233550/

Counselor News

Counselors Douglas Hamilton and Bevin Engman, Ford Hall, Mercersburg Academy June 1977

Former Counselor Douglas Hamilton Alive and Well in Madrid

Boise--As I have said many times, this blog has a life of its own. Douglas Hamilton was a counselor with us in Mercersburg during the '77 season and happened upon the blog. Its great to hear from Douglas, Mr. B was very found of the Scotsman and he was a great player at the camp...I can't remember him losing a match...he was just as good as Eric Riley but you would have an argument with Douglas, he was always very modest. Heres the email he sent me and some photos he dug up.

Douglas Hamilton on the Mercersburg Courts July 1977

Douglas's email:

Jake,
I was idly surfing the net other day, thinking about my past, and started to put some keywords into Google and came across your blog. For the past couple of days I've been totally thrown by your detailed diary from the summer of 1977 in Mercersburg. Memories have been flooding back to me, making me realise what a great time we had. Over 30 years ago now and yet some of the experiences still seem so clear, though others I have to say far less so. I remember you fairly well, if only because you were and still are the only person I've known from Idaho. I remember joking about how we spoke the same language but couldn’t understand each other (especially when Eric and I spoke to each other) and thinking you were a bit innocent, and that's exactly how your diary reads at times. And I mean that it in positive sense.

Douglas Hamilton now teaches english in Madrid

Just to remind you I'm the other Scotsman who was there that summer - Doug Hamilton. When I look at the names of the other coaches I remember some but others not. For example, and this is bad, I can't remember who I roomed with! I don't think I had too much in common with him so he's probably been deleted from my memory. I do remember you however, Bobby Dickinson and his Borg-like play, Marc Solomon (who I went to stay with in NYC for a few days after the camp), Pat Rowntree, John Day, Becky Craft and Chris Russell-Vick but I haven’t been in touch with any of them. Of course I remember Eric Riley well but I'm sorry to say that I haven't been in touch with him either for at least 20 years. I also remember Rick Fanning if only because I managed to beat him in a challenge. I remember thinking that it was very important that a coach didn’t lose to one of the kids however good he was.

Looking at your blog I recognise some of the photos. They seem very familiar as if I actually took them (the one at the quarry for example). I’ll need to look through some old files to check if I still have them. Did I send them to you? I don’t think so. So, how did you get them? Eric?

Douglas puts the campers to bed, 2nd floor Fowle Hall, Mercersburg, July 1977

I played a lot during my university years (I never once beat Eric in I don’t now how many competitive matches) but I played for one of the top Glasgow sides and was part of the university team that won the Scottish University Championships (we even beat Eric’s university team!). Sadly I’ve hardly picked up a tennis racket since. I lived in Ireland for 16 years and now live in Madrid, Spain. Given the tennis scene here, especially the phenomenal success of Rafa Nadal, I’m often tempted to start up again but have done nothing. What is especially amazing about discovering your blog is that the recent success of Andy Murray at the US Open made me think just last week long, hard and with some emotion about what it’s like for a Scottish player to do so well. When I was his age, i.e. at Mercersburg with you and others, I never dreamt for a second about reaching the final of a Grand Slam. Nor I’m sure did those much better than me like Eric and others. Incidentally, Andy Murray’s mother, Judy, was the No. 1 Under-18 girl player in Scotland the same year as Eric was the top boy. I knew her and played against her a few times in mixed events (I never liked her!) as did Eric of course. It’s a small world as they say and very strange seeing her sitting in the stands watching her son.

Douglas says he still follows the game but hasn't picked up a racquet in decades

As for my life I’ve been living in Spain for the past five years working as an English teacher. Previously I worked as an economist in Scotland, England and Ireland. I don’t have any children but live with my Argentinean partner.

In your blog you mention Alan Liddell. I remember that he was the person (another Scot) who got me the job with Frank Brennan. In some of the comments another Scot is mentioned – Harry Drummond. I knew him well because, although a few years older, he played at the same club as me in Scotland. I think he must have worked with Frank Brennan a few years before. Harry went on to get a tennis scholarship in Texas and then played American football as a kicker. He was wonderfully talented both at tennis and football (soccer). I remember he was going to sign for a top Scottish football team but failed the medical due to his asthma. He was a truly wonderful person and a huge influence on my early sporting life.

I hope this gets to you and you reply. It’s been amazing for me to go down memory lane and all thanks to your diary. If I can find any photos I’ll send them on. Many, many thanks once again.

All the very, very best,

Douglas (Hamilton)

Frank X. Brennan

Boise--This photo now hangs in my Den as a reminder of the good ole days at camp. During Wimbledon Mr. Brennan would invite me in and we religiously watched all the matches on WHAG-TV Haggerstown...if something really good was going on he would pull me off the court in the afternoon...usually the last Friday of the fortnight and we would watch the semi finals. We saw BJK in her last singles appearance in 78 and he was choked up, sorry to see her go. She had such a good run...

Coleen Brennan sent me this photo of FXB, I had to post it...this is how we remember the man. Coleen was a pro and pretty much ran the adult week all five years I was at camp...she's a chip off the ole block and still serves as my coach. She is unmatched in matchplay advice!

Charlie Fenske

Skip sent this great photo of Charlie Fenske...the photo was taken circa 1975. Charlie not only served as a counsellor at the camp but later became the assistant Basketball coach of ISU, Oklahoma State, TCU and Lamar.

August 28, 1977

Classes have started at ISU. I checked in with the new coach a guy by the name of Marty Holly and while he was open and welcoming he said that I would have to play my way back on the team. I met some of the guys and they're all very good including the number 2 guy, Chip Webber. He's from Redondo Beach and played two years at El Camino Jr. College. I played him and while I was in the match he was too much winning nearly all the ad points. Hes tall, serves and volleys and always holds serve, I cant get around him. I got points off my lob but it was hopeless, I lost 2 and 3 with Holly watching. That might have sealed my fate.

Practice starts on Monday and I have 6 guys to beat, this is going to be rough. I have moved into an apartment off campus. The Halls had a room open and I had the cash so I paid rent for the semester and moved in, its very comfortable and my best friend lives upstairs so its great.
Jim Hall and I played this afternoon at the Reed Gym courts. I won but the guy got good over the summer. Holly was there and said Jim should go out and we could play doubles. Jim is considering it but he's more interested in Journalism and Film school.

I got a letter from FXB and Ill write him about getting back on next summer, I want to come back and I know just about everyone on staff wants to come back, FXB said a few guys wont be back, namely Bobby and Tom. So it goes.

Frank Brennan Tennis Camp

These are the sights and sounds of Summer at the Mercersburg Academy. For the campers and counsellors Tennis Camp is never far away and it's always summer.

1977 Post script

The diary has a life of its own, and it has brought Frank Brennan back; his wisdom, his gruff but soft touch. Anyone that met the man never forgot him...ask former President Jimmy Carter, ask the Duke and Dutchess of Kent, ask Robert Duvall, ask Billie Jean King or even Bud Collins.

Skip Schwartzman sent a priceless photo of Alan Liddell and himself...it was snapped on court 1 near the great oak tree, Skip's hair is wild and free and you got to love the hats. Counselor Jan Short took the photos and according to Skip had siblings that were also counselors.

Send your photos and a description or even a story and I will post them here!

--Jake

1977 Post script, Boise, Idaho June 17th, 2007

Two years ago I found myself in Austin, Texas. I remembered that the Dickinson' boys from camp were living in the Long Star State, there was my Idaho State Tennis Teamate Bobby, Roger who graduated from Texas Tech, and then Todd. Todd was such a good kid on all levels, he could handle any task, but also thoughtful and a great player to boot. The Dickinson family all were deeply entwined in Mercersburg and Northern New Jersey Tennis. I did a Google search and found Roger's Dad in Arlington and he told me that Roger was working at the Texas Department of Labor just blocks away from Driscull Hotel where I was staying. I called him and two hours later that smiling face that I hadn't seen in more than 25 years was there in the Lobby of that great hotel, he took me and my colleagues to lunch.


He hadn't changed a bit, it was a glorious reunion and we talked about old times and people we knew and the years fell away. Roger is a lawyer, a grandpa and is back playing tennis again. He looked to so good that I thought twice about setting up a match.


Roger had asked what I've been up to since camp and it was almost too big of a question to answer. I was a teaching pro for three more years, doing a stint in Toronto, Canada and Florida.
I taught school for a year, was television news photographer for two years, then a reporter for the NBC affiliate in Boise for 13 years. Press Secretary to the Attorney General of Idaho for two years and now Broadcast Services Manager for the Idaho Farm Bureau Federation. During the years I had covered a couple of wars, hosted a talk show, flown in fighter jets, met Presidents and even a King. I had won an Emmy, was appointed to a few board of directors and did just about everything on my to-do list...but as I told Roger over lunch in Austin, It all started with FXB. He funded my college education, taught me how to succeed, taught responsibility and how to compete. Roger agreed that Mr. B had prepaired him for law school and had been a force and inspiration in his life as well.


November 20th, 1997 I was out jogging and felt a sharp pain in my chest. I could have paniced but didn't. I kept my cool. I got back to the car and drove myself to the hospital. I was immediately admitted and a few hours later I had heart surgery. I was lucky, I had a blocked left ventricle and was able to have a stent rather than an open heart surgery. I was back up and working in just two weeks. But I was sentenced to a life of either a couch potato or daily workouts by my doctor. I chose to work out and started lifting and stair stepping but found it extremely boring when one day an old friend invited me to play tennis. I hadnt picked up a racquet since 1985 and all the joy and memories came streaming back. Its like this, on the court its always summer and I'm 20 and all the worries of the world disappear and things FXB had told me on the court and off come back like boomarangs tossed in 1977.

My wife Sheryl, step daughter Kalina and I were moving in the summer of 2005 and it was a hot day in the dusty garage. I was digging through some boxes and found a big shoe box filled with diaries, letters, photos from Mercersburg. In the streaming dusty light I sat there and read caught in time, suspended in 1977 and it was so sweet that I didnt want to come back. All of my friends were with me in that garage, all young, smiling with racquets in hand. We were all so handsome and young. I realized that the garage was my cornfield, the diaries my field of dreams and then I thought If I build it they will come...I heard Frank Brennan's voice ringing in my ears..."...he missed that overhead and the ball went across the street and into the Ford Dealership a block away..." or "Think of ways to win, not lose," or "Go out and play your own game."

I built a blog and the friends, like ghosts came back to the field of dreams, to the har-tru courts.

Ive heard from Roger, Mark Sanderson, Eric Riley, Chris Russel-Vick, former counselors Eileen Brennan, Coleen Brennan, Skip Schwarzman, Eric Anderson, Jim Hall, Jonathan Markson, James Haft camper Jonathan Mudd and Joyce Hackett. I hope more will make it back .

Friday August 13th, 1977

Dawn broke just before 6-am and we were up and at 'em. I showered, shaved and got the last of my belongins packed. FXB was at the door at 6:30 and we were off to Haggerstown. I rode up front of FXB's station wagon, while Mark rode in the back.

FXB was in an excellent mood and we talked all the way about his family and how with BJK in 59 and 60 made it an even 10. He said Mrs. B. looked after her but never treated her and differently than her own. He said Billie loved that. He said that when she first showed up she had racquets off the rack and nylon strings. FXB, being a master stringer got her fixed up with VS gut and a Wilson sponsorship. He said that really made a difference because it got her believing that she was something special, and FXB said she was. There was no out there like her.

He said she was a sponge at the dinner table, soaking up all the strategy talk, all the player talk and she loved it. She called home and talked to her worried, homesick parents once a week...FXB said she was never homesick.

We got to the airport with just minutes to spare, we all walked out to the Tarmac and I said goodbye to a great roomate. Mark is such a good hitter and doubles partner with a great temperment and atitude. Next year I promised that I would visit New Hampshire before camp.

FXB was all worried that I wouldnt have anything to eat in Chicago and forced a five dollar bill into my hand but said he's putting the cash on my tab for next year. He told me to meet with the new tennis coach as soon as posible and get all that squared away.

I waved goodbye to my new bestfriends and boared the Alleghany flight to DC. When I came here back in June I didnt know a soul, now I have hundreds. It doesnt get any better than this.

It was a long day but finally I landed at the Pocatello airport. Mom and Jerry were waiting at the Airport and we took the crowded Subaru home. They were very glad to see me. Pocatello looked brown from the heat, but looked great. It was a beautiful summer night and the air was clean but cool. We got home to the small house on Fredregill. When we unloaded the car my sister Brenda was there and said hi, she told me all about her summer and had grown a foot.

The trains in the freight yards squealed slowly past, there was the familiar sound of steel on steel and then the big booms as the cars coupled in the yard. I stayed outside a second under the big trees and looked up at the stars they were bright and clear. This has been the greatest summer of my life, better than a book, too unlikely for a movie and no one will believe it.

I got to get some sleep because tomorrow ,Im kicking ass on the Reed Gym Courts and I have Frank Brennan in my corner.

Thursday August 12th, 1977, Mercersburg

Stayed up last night and chatted with the guys in the second floor Lounge. Roger was there listening to his radio with his liter of Coke, X showed as did Lenny, Mike, Kenny, Marc, Vrana and Fanning. Fanning has been with us all summer as a camper but we accept him as a counselor. He won all the camper tournaments against tough competition especially in the third session where he beat the Sommerville kid from Hawaii.


We got in an argument over whos better the east coast or west players. I argued that we arnt going to be as good on clay but kick ass on hard courts. Bobby and I pointed to Stanford, USC and UCLA no one beats them east of the Mississippi. Of course they argued that those teams are made up of east coast players...some but not all. Bobby Dickinson and I saw Stanford first hand on our Spring road trip, they're very good.


The teaching went well, this is the last teaching day and Mr. B. went over match play, thinking of ways to win instead of ways to lose. He said its always easy to give up when it gets rough but talked about weathering the storm and playing points until theres a break. He says the breaks go the person thats out there trying their hardest. If defeat comes accepts the loss and give credit where its due, dont overly dwell but fix what went wrong, make note of things you can do next time.

I went up to the infirmary and said goodbye to Dr. Prevost, he's a different guy kind of gruff at first then a softie. He took my BP as he has done all summer and noted that it was high and that when I get home to see my family Dr. It was 146/95 and he wrote it down along with a note to my family Doctor. I told him that he did great work on sprained ankle and that I would miss someone inflicting severe pain on anterior ligiment. He said if I turn my ankle one more time he would wring my neck. It was an ugly thing and I though for sure I broke my ankle but Prevost fixed me up with ice and I was back after a day.

It was strange teaching, a huge relief in a way and it went fast. We walked up to that lovely and elegant Ford Hall and I sighed a bit inside. I will miss this place, its smells, the lunch guys especially the guy that looks like Richie Havens. Roger Dickinson was already seated when I walked by he had 3 cokes in front of him symbolizing bets won from campers and a row of milk glasses...I have no idea where he packs it all away.

On this last day Mark S. and Bevin sat with me at the table. Mark asked Mr. B if he could go to the airport and Mr. B. said 'why not.' Mark told Bevin and I about Plymouth St. in New Hampshire, it sounds like a great place to go to college. He is studying to be a teacher and I think he will do well in the profession.

In the afternoon it was all about the campers and their prepairation for the big tournament. Jon Mudd played very well today and lost to Fanning 8-4 which is quite an accomplishment because I dont think I can get that many games. It was a slow, hot afternoon but finally when Roger called balls in I knew my first season at FXB was in the books and I somehow I didnt screw up.

I played Tom Sheridan and played well enough to force a tiebreaker. I lost 9-7. I had him but forgot all about his backhand...I played the whole tiebreaker to his forehand and he cleaned me out.

I showered and got ready for dinner. Mr. B. came by the room and off we went. He had a bottle of de Rothshield's Mouton Cadet...1973. The last bottle in the case and when we got to the resturant I had glass, it was great. Mr. B had my pay check and handed it to me. It was for $700.00...thats two hundred more than we agreed on. FXB said that I saved him a fortune and that's my bonus. I am rich! This check will pay for two semesters of tuition at ISU, plus half of my sisters and will also pay for my room. I am set and I wont have any worries. I can study in peace. FXB also said he wants me to come back next year posibly as an assistant head counselor with Riley. I thought I was going to faint, what an offer! So I said I would be back and FXB promised me $800.00 for next year.

FXB talked about his family and the Jersey shore and the vacation plans ahead. He talked a lot about his teaching assistant back in Jersey, Marv. Marv came to camp as a counselor years ago with Charlie Fenske and FXB got him on at the club, hes been there ever since. FXB says Marv has every cent he ever made and is a hard conscientious worker. He says that one day he could get me on the club.

We got back at 9:30 and FXB and I walked the halls and chatted with the campers. The counselors were just getting all the kids to bed. Its so funny two weeks ago they had trembling lips and tears in their eyes after leaving the parents, now they're nervous over the tournament and thinking of ways to win, they're not thinking or missing the parents right now.

I went over to the girls dorms and said goodbye to all the girl counselors. Pat have me a big hug and kiss and told me that Vrana is giving her a ride to JFK where she will fly home to Toronto. Lenny came by to say goodbye and was playing up a storm on the piano. I said good bye to the lovely Chris Russell-Vick and threated to visit her in Kent as well as Becky Craft and Cathy Davidson. A bunch of the girl campers came to the Lounge and snapped photos of me saying good bye. Bevin was sitting on the piano bench and silent when it was her time for the goodbye hug she had a tear in her eye. She said goodbye and gave me a big hug...it was touching.

I made it back to the room at 11:00, I packed everything up with lights out at midnight. Mr. B is coming by at 6:30 in the morning....I have layovers in DC, Chicago, Salt Lake and Boise...before landing in Pocatello at 10:30...what a long day Friday will be!

Wednesday August 11th, 1977 Mercersburg

I thanked FXB for the racquet, its a beauty and custom made from Wilson and strung by FXB himself with the very expensive VS gut. The top of the frame is worn from the unique way FXB picks up balls. Someday this racquet could end up in the Smithsonian.



I went to the campus bank and cleared out my savings account. I'll have spending money for lunch in Chicago, I should be home by 7:30 pm. I called Mom and Jerry and told them my arrival time, they will pick me up at the Poky Airport. This is the longest I have been away and my Mom sounds excited to see me.

I started saying my goodbyes to the campers. Jon Mudd sat at my table and I asked him to buy me a T-shirt at the U.S. Open and he agreed! I gave him 10-bucks and cant wait to get the shirt. I told him that next summer I would come and visit his family in McLain.

I gave Roger five bucks I borrowed from him back in July. We were at Wises and I was broke and lent me some cash. I think he forgot that I owed him because he was surprised that I paid up. He had so many bets going with campers that I probably didnt register.

This tennis is an amazing sport, through tennis I got my first plane ride, got into college, lettered in a NCAA Division 1 sport, got a bunch of cool roadtrips to California, and best of all got me here...to this beautiful campus and through tennis I got to study under FXB, coach of Billie Jean King and now President Jimmy Carter. Mr. B confided in me tonight that he and Mrs. B have been invited to Camp David for a weekend with the Carters! He was so excited but Im sworn to secrecy. He said something about it being the First Ladies' birthday and they were going to play some tennis and then have a dinner for the immediate family.




Mr. B also said that I saved him so much money this summer that I have guilted him into another dinner at Foot of the Mountain, so we are going out to dinner tomorrow night and then its on the plane for Idaho.




I sat down and talked to Bobby D. tonight. He said that he will miss ISU and some of the great friends he made there but hes glad to be staying in Arlington. I told him all about the team and the new coach and how he cleaned house and Im the only player coming back from last year.
He wished me luck and was sincere and nice.

Mark Sanderson invited me to come a few weeks early next year and stay with him in New Hampshire before we come back to camp. We must first ask Mr. B if we can come back. We both seem to be in good standing with the boss, but Ill ask tomorrow at dinner if we can come back next year.


I walked over to Irvine Chappel at sunset. Bryan Barker was playing up a storm on the carolline it sounded like a lot of Bach and Beetoven, at sunset it was an amazing sight all orange with the humidity thick in the air and the music just floating over the campus and through the dorms. Campers were sitting on the steps and listening it was magic and as he often said, a joy.

Tuesday August 10th, 1977 Mercersburg

It's hot and the morning broke clear with blue skies and no wind. We took the posters off the walls. We folded our clothes and are living out of our bags, at least I am. I'm packed and ready to go. My plane leaves at 8:20 on Friday from Haggerstown Airport and Mr. B said he'll take me to the airport Friday morning. So I have a just a couple of days left. We ironed out all of the travel plans, Mr. B said he will have a check ready for me on Thursday and I am set.

We had a good day of teaching, I was on the beginners court all morning with Cathy Davidson. She is very good with the little kids and we had a blast. The pace is much slower and we play games to keep them interested. I made a game up called the "Slice is Right" where I have the kids hit underspin forehands and backhands back to me, they caught on so fast.

At lunch I chatted with the girls. We talked about the summer and Becky is so anxious to get back to Binghampton she'll stay there until September and then its off to Wellesley College. She's so bright and full of life and is a joy to talk to and so is Chris. Chris Russell-Vick is heading back to London and then its off to college. Pat will pack up her Honda and make the long drive back to Toronto.

When I get back to Idaho I have to meet with the coach, my Dean and academic advisor. I'll rent an apartment from Jack and Mary Hall, they have a great house a few blocks from the ISU campus. Jim Hall is one of my best friends and we will work on our cable access TV show and some film projects, and continue to work on our documentry film on Austin when I get back. Its a bit crowded at the Fredregill house with both Brenda and I there. I dont have a car and am on the bike so I need to live close to campus. I can pay my first semester rent from the Camp check and Ill be set for the semester. All the counselors have plans worked out and thats dominating talk at the camp.

I hit with Dunja Heinrichs, she takes lessons from Mr. B and is a fantastic hitter. She'll be a senior at Old Tappan High and is solid muscle, runs like a deer, and cute as a button. She has been playing the boys in the afternoon and can beat most of the camp. We played a set and I got lucky beating her 7-5. She was killing me from the baseline so I ran her with short angles mixed with deep balls to the corners, When I had her deep I dropped her and then hit the mouse trap lob to win point after point. Dunja hates to lose and we talked afterwards, I told her that she needs to keep me pasted to the baseline.

Mark Sanderson and I gathered up the balls tonight and concluded that this is the best session yet. We're only down 4 cans in two weeks. Every night we make the rounds to all the rooms and pick up rogue balls, that pisses the counselors off to no end. Feinberg and Solomon were watering the courts and FXB drove up. A couple other counselors were there and they were giving Sanderson and I a hard time for being such hard-asses. That pissed FXB off and he stepped up and said that it wasnt about the balls, it was about pride and doing a job well and that one day they might understand how important it is to do a job well no mater how trivial and unimportant it may seem.

Mr. B lapsed into a story about the ditch diggers in Patterson that he used to watch as a kid. He said they worked hard because it was pride with them. No one on the crew wanted to let the other down, when they worked they worked as a team. It was perhaps the only satisfaction they had because of the depression. Mr. B. said they were driven because they had families to support and jobs were scarce, he said they worked hard just to get home at the end of a day and have a meal with their families. I understood where FXB was coming from...I doubt the other did. Mark and I walked back to Fowle feeling pretty good, FXB could see how serious we took our assignment. Ball duty is not very glamorous duty but we broke our chops all summer out of fear, the pressure was on us not to lose balls. When FXB and I went to the warehouse yesterday he had 4 gross of balls left, he beamed that the year before he had to buy 5 extra cases.

We got the kids in bed and they were hyper, when I got back in the room at 10 there was a black trimmed Jack Kramer on my bed, the pro Kramer select. It had a broken string but was in perfect shape. FXB had given me his racquet, the same racquet he took to Camp David to teach the President. I was pretty excited about the frame, not that I will ever hit with it because its a piece of history.

I met Lenny at 10:30 and we went across the street to Tippetts Lounge so he could play the piano. All the girl counselors were there and it was festive, we broke out the cookies,candy and cokes and listened to Lenny play. He played everything from classical to jazz and pop, absolutely perfect.

At 11:30 I got back to the room and Mark was still up reading, he called home and his parents are coming down from Mass to pick him up. He's excited to see them and cant wait to get home and beat some of his high school teamates at East Longmeadow.

I drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Idaho and those wonderful Reed Gym courts on the ISU campus where I taught myself to play tennis on the backboard. In a few days Ill be back there beating the hell out of Mike Zaladonis and some of my ISU teamates.

Monday August 9th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

It was a hot morning and FXB talked a lot about match play and getting it done today. He told us about a gal he was coaching who lost a match in the Bergin County Open and when he asked her what had happened she said that it was okay, she would win the tournament next year. Mr. B. said there's only now. He said that gal didn't made it back to finals and never won the Open. He said to always go out and play like there's no tomorrow that its also a good way to live. That if youre not living a hundred percent today that your'e cheating yourself the joy of winning, of living, of achieving. It was a great speech.



At 10:30 FXB and I went to the bank and he wrote me a check and then we wired my travel agent the money for the trip home. He asked about college and asked if the parents were footing the bill. I told him that I payed for the first year and will pay for it all. The parents dont have the money to send me to college. I get by with grants, loans and have applied for scholarships. I did well last year, I worked in the SUB cafeteria washing dishes every afternoon until tennis season kicked in. I saved every cent and had just enough airfare to get here. Charlie Fenske only had one scholarship for the team and he gave it to Bobby Dickinson. I told Mr. B that I had saved money last year and will have enough for an apartment from Sept to December. I landed a Student Defense Loan for tuition and a BEOG grant. I will live off the camp money and it should last me until March. I think Mr. B was impressed that I could save that much money. We stopped by the warehouse on campus and picked up the last box of balls and T-shirts. We passed out the shirts after lunch for promo photos FXB wanted to take of the kids.



Most of the counselors at camp are on schoarships or their parents are picking up the tab. How great would that be? I already have a job lined up in the Student Union Building working as an usher in the movie theatre, if that doesnt work out I can get my dishwashing job back for SAGA Foods. I cant wait to get back to school, I have some great journalism classes planned and some really fun history and literature classes.



I have totally worn through my grip on the Kramer, I broke the string in the spare racquet and it did not go unnoticed by FXB. He had a spare grip and took my racquet in the afternoon and put it on. This guy can really grip a racquet, it feels great. He also took my other racquet and got it strung. He would have done it but didnt have his stringer. I gave have him the $6-bucks and he said 'forget it,' the guy in town owed him one.



It was a hot, sweaty day but everyone stayed out on the courts and played after 4. I hit with X, Roger and Sandy. Roger and I killed them in doubles. We lobbed and dropped them to death and it was a fun, great match. Every single point lasted forever. We won 7-6, 6-4.



Afterwards Jon Mudd came by and we, along with camper Tom P. went to Highs for mint chocolate chip ice cream cones. We sat on the curb eating them and talking when an Amish Family pulled up in a buggy. The horse was beautifully groomed and the harnesses were perfect. The kids were all scrubbed, clean and well behaved. I have never seen anything like this. We dont have Amish people in Idaho so this was a special sighting.

Sunday August 8th, 1977, Mercersburg

A bunch of kids went off to church this morning and I made the church run with Pat Rowntree. She pulled around and picked me up in front of Fowle Hall, she was in the old blue Academy van and after a drive across town ,we dropped the kids off at church. After the delivery we stopped at Highs and got some coffee and donuts! We talked an hour or so about the summer and she said shes heading to the cottage for a few weeks when she gets home. They have a place north of Toronoto and it sounds lovely. We had such a nice talk and it was fun. We got back to the Academy round 11:30 and stopped at the courts and watched all the counselors matches, then we headed to lunch in Ford Hall.

I sat with Jude Gatewood and Cathy Davidson at lunch, although I have talked to Cathy on and off all summer I havnt talked at all to Jude, shes been standoffish and not social. But on this afternoon she was pleasant. She talked about growing up in DC and going to college. Jon Mudd joined us and those two had a lot to talk about because both grew up in the District. Cathy is from Mass and is the patron saint of all little kids, they love her and she looks after them like a hawk and that has not gone unnoticed by FXB; he told me that he wants her back next summer. Jude however wont make the cut because she was one of the counselors out the other night. I think that Riley was out but he came back early.

I played Kenny F. in the afternoon after lunch. This guy is a much better tennis player, from a tougher university...We have played 4 times and I'm 0-4. The last time we played it was a 2 and 1 drubbing. I noticed that anything short is bad news with this guy because he winds up, hits hard and deep. My plan was to keep it deep, keep him back by the fence and then drop and angle him. It worked. He started missing and hitting short...I dropped him, then lobbed him...I attacked off the short balls, didnt give any serves away...I beat him 5 and 5. He wasnt happy. Keeping the ball deep, keeping it in play was the key.

I got on the pay phone in the lobby and called my travel agent in Pocatello to get a flight home. The Mudds had invited me to their home in Mclain for a few days but I couldnt make it work with the airlines. Saturday was booked solid, so I had to book a flight on Friday. Mr. B came out and saw what I was doing and let me use his phone in the apartment. He asked how much the airfare was, I got the flight from Haggerstown and then the DC to Denver to Boise to Poky flight for $175.00. I had to ask Mr. B for an advance to pay the airfare he said he would have a check for me tomorrow and we could wire it to my travel agent. That airfare will really cut into the $600 I'll get for the summer, but it was worth every cent and I doubt I could have saved this much working in Poky, so all is good.

Mark and I picked up all of our dirty clothes, we're going to do some laundry tomorrow for our long trip home. Mark called his parents and they are going to come and pick him up on Saturday. He is excited to get back to Springfield, Mass. It sounds like such a beautiful place, he says that he should have about a month before getting back to Plymouth State.

Its dark and late and Mark is already asleep, I will miss the crickets at night and the fire flies. I will miss that the wet,sweet smell of grass at night that drifts through these windows. I will miss the carillion bells and Bryan Barkers amazing music. As he said many times over the summer, quoting John Keats,"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

Saturday August 7th, 1977

The week drug by but now it's Saturday morning. Last night a few of the counselors went out after we got the kids to bed...no problem. But at 1:45 AM the security guard called Mr. B and woke him up, he reported that Tennis Camp counselors were out singing and raising hell over near Main Hall. It scared the hell out of the Sports Camp. Mr. B was red faced and mad this morning. He got in his car and rounded up the merry makers chasing them back in the stationwagon. But he never got close enough to see who was raising hell.

Sanderson and I were up at 8-am and FXB asked us what we knew about last night. We were both dead asleep by 11:30 so it was news to us. We were immediately taken off the FXB shit list.

Mr. B. then went to Sheridan's room and got him up and I heard lots of yelling, but Sheridan went to bed early too. Most of revelers were from the second floor so Tom went up there and had a meeting. He did a lot of yelling and I still dont have a take on who was out. A few of the gal counselors including Pat Rountree were out but they came back early, so they're not on the list.

At Ford Hall it was somber amongst the counselor ranks, a look around and I could pick out the guilty parties just by the 'hung-over' factor. I sat with Bevin and she asked if I was out last night, I told her that I went to bed early. I dont think she believed me. Mark and I dodged a big bullet!

We had field sports and the pool all lined up for the campers, plus we had the finals of the counselor tennis tournament. All of the guilty were assigned duties, so Sanderson and I had a day off and we went to the courts and played, after lunch we watched Riley take on Vrana in the finals of the counselor tournament. Despite limited mobility, Riley killed Vrana 6-4, 5-7, 6-3. It was an amazing match with Riley coming in off the baseline and cutting off the angles and sending the ball deep into the corners. Every ball was just inches from the baseline...with that kind of ball control it was hard for Tom Vrana to move the Scotsman. Riley never hit a hard serve, and he only hit a few second serves. I didnt see him miss a service return, but Vrana held serve throughout the match. It was fun to watch.

After the match we went to the Quarry again. Word had spread about the naked sirens, the beautiful girls that swim nude in the hidded cove. Sheridan drove and had a car full of anxious counselors but the sirens were gone. There seemed to be a lot toothless types there and the magic of the place evaporated into the air.

We got back just in time to take on the Sports Camp in softball. I played left field and had two singles and a triple. We beat a good team 7-5. Roger had a double, triple and a single. Bobby and Vrana had homeruns while Ken and John had some nice hits as well. All of the campers were there from both camps and there was a lot of cheering. It was one of the funnest things we did all summer.

We had a great dinner and then a camper dance. I helped set up and FXB and I went for ice cream and he was still mad over last night. I dont blame him, it was just a stupid incident.We have just a week to go and its not a good time to get on Mr. B's bad side. He said he wont ask any of the troublemakers back.

Jon Mudd was at the dance and at one point was just sitting there tarding out. I thought I was going to die it was so funny. I danced with Bevin and we talked again. I did mention that she could have said something and pointed out that she was in avoidance mode since the Washington Star tournament. I told her that I wasnt much of a mindreader. Later when I told Mr. B all about our talk and he shook his head and said I should have taken blame for being so dumb, I guess that was the wrong thing to say.

We gathered up the kids and walked back to the dorms, Bevin didnt say much but it was a nice walk, there was a lot of silent conversation going on. It was muggy and the fireflies were out and I cant remember seeing that many stars.

Friday August 5th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

The session is moving along, I was out picking up balls and the corn is very high across the street. The tall corn makes Mr. B. very happy, the taller the corn the shorter the time till the annual trip to the Jersey shore. He's been whistling a lot and thats another sure sign that things are going well.

I sat with Bevin this morning at breakfast, for once we really got talking. She said something to the affect that we could have gone out all summer but that I was too big of a flirt. Had I known that I was that big of a flirt and that she was the least bit interested Im sure I would have been less interested in all the girls...especially Pat and the Haggerstown gal.

I told Mr. B. the sad tale and he chuckled all the way through the story. He thinks I need a seeing eye dog and tin cup, that it was obvious that she was interested, he said that she is so unique and special that theres no way that she would ever consider a flirty guy. I chuckled with Mr. B.; he's always right and Bevin is right. Im labeling this the camp romance that almost was.

Im guilty as charged, but is love blind, or in my case blind, love?

All things considered, I've had a great summer. My hair is bleached almost blond, and like my fellow counselors we are bronzed gods. We got to spend a summer on this amazing campus rent free and all meals paid for...we got to play tennis all summer and we got to study under Frank Brennan, does it get any better than this? My other option for the summer was to work construction with my Dad back in Pocatello. I did a couple of days last summer and it was brutal hard work because the laborers carry everything, and fetch everything. Pipefitting is very dirty and the time passes slowly, the hours long. Thank God Charlie Fenske got me this job...a week to go and I still have to be careful not to screw up.

We worked on the serve and overhead, Mr. B has the best description, he says with the overhead put both hands ups, point at the ball and replace one hand with the other...just like swatting a fly in your grandma's kitchen. The demo is always fun to watch because FXB has Riley feed him balls and he crisply smacks overheads to the corners. The ball sound pops beautifully because of flawless technique and immaculately strung racquets. I picked one up while I play with a 4 5/8 grip Kramer, he plays with a Kramer Pro with a size 5 grip. He strings his racquets with expensive narrow guage gut...I think its VS. He let me hit with it and it was like driving a Porche around the block.

Jonathan Mudd sat at my table in Ford for dinner. We talked about the news and all the people he knows at CBS and PBS...its a long and impressive list. Hes not bragging, just stating fact. I told him that one day I want to report, I want to travel the world...so its either be a reporter or a tennis pro...If I were better I would consider being a touring pro...but the fact that Im not good kind of elimates the latter.

Its bed time now and finally the Bevin talk is haunting me, I should have done a lot of things differently, but Im just a blind kid from Pocatello and dont know how these Ivy League girls work. I talked to X about it because he is the master observer of FXB tennis camp. He thinks that I was avoiding Bevin because there was a chance of falling for her and then getting hurt later...Bingo...thats it. That Xavier Combe nailed it, come to think about it, Ive been running from the right girls for years.

Its time for bed, Sanderson is already asleep and snoring, I know Ill be thinking for a few more hours...

Thursday August 4th, 1977

It's still hot and muggy and sleeping was tough last night because the heat was heavy and it pressed on the chest and was hard to breathe. It took a long time to drop off to sleep, we listened to WRCV till after midnight and then fatigue took over. Morning came too early, it was hard getting out of bed...

Mr. B talked about volleys. He had Riley up at the net while Feinberg fed balls and his demo was flawless. The Scotsman hit the ball dead center of his Maxply racquet over and over. The sound of a perfectly hit volley is like nothing I've heard; its music.

FXB lasped into a long talk about BJK and how her volleys changed the women's game. But emphasized that it's not enough to have a volley, one needs the touch and underspin and one must also have the depth. He stressed that BJK rarely hit the same volley, that she even had a volley that she hit down the line that would kicked out sideways on grass. He told the kids to attack the short balls approach deep down the line and success will find you. He also warned the players with the eastern grip that they need to figure something out because an eastern grip at the net is hard to manage and stressed again that the hammer grip is the most practical because you dont have to change grips.

The teaching went well and the kids were into it, it was hot but everyone is used to it. Mr. B had us watch the kids close making sure they're getting all the water they want or need. Today we had just a couple report to the infirmary and one has a cold, so Dr. Prevost thinks we're back on track there.

Just before dinner I stopped by the lounge in Fowle and Jonathan Mudd was there and we sat down and we watched his Dad do the evening news, he was filling in for John Chancelor on NBC news. NBC is high on Roger Mudd and one day he could be the next Chancelor, he's smooth and confident and makes a great network anchor.

After dinner I had gym duty and played basketball. Sanderson was there and we took on these these high schoolers and ended up schooling them in a game of half court...For me it was just a mater of getting the 6 feet 4, Sandy the ball on the inside...It was all passing and positioning. I was also able to shoot from the outside and Sandy rebounded...I dont think we lost a game. Jonahan Mudd and Rober London dropped by and went into his mongo routine and I was laughing hysterically...London also does impressions, he has a killer Clint Eastwood...we have funniest kids this session.

Mr. B. was out in the Hall when I got back and asked me how Terence was doing, I told him that the kid has a 30 or 40 best friends, no problem with him mixing in, hes a natural. We had a storm blow in from the coast tonight, it cooled down and we might get some sleep tonight. Im looking toward the highway from Fowle and can see the lighting heading this way...cool winds are blowing I can smell the rain, but its still in the distance.

Wednesday August 3rd, 1977, Mercersburg

The morning was hot and very humid again. The kids are starting to fold in the heat. We noticed that there’s some flu going around, I took two little kids up to the Infirmary and left them there. Dr. Prevost said that they were dehydrated and it probably wasn’t the flu. He ordered us to give water breaks every hour.

The kids were back on the court by 10:30, all in all we had 8 kids that had mild dehydration, its so hard to make these kids drink, I suggested that we call Peggy and have the dining hall staff bring us a big 10 gallon canister of lemon aid. We had it by 11 and that solved our hydration problem.

It was my afternoon off so Tom S. and I drove into Haggerstown to see the afternoon matinee of Star Wars. It was so visual and stunning, what a movie, the visual effects were mind boggling. It was a journey from beginning to end and I was lost in time. It was nice to be in air conditioning all afternoon, it was so cold in there. I told FXB he should see the movie and he asked if it was a musical, I said no…he said he likes the musicals.

We got back at 5 pm and noticed that the courts were deserted while the pool was packed. The kids were having a great time in the pool. We went back to the dorm, changed and went swimming until dinner, it was fun because a few of us played some water polo at the far end of the pool…talk about hard work!

Dinner was very good, we had lasagna and garlic bread and we all went back for seconds and thirds. For desert they had this Italian sherbert….and it was delightful. After dinner we had a huge soccer game with the sports camp. The first match pitted our campers against theirs, then the second match it was their counselors against ours…we destroyed them because of Riley, Hamilton, Varna (who is an amazing all state soccer player) Lenny, Feinberg and Solomon and Greenspan…all of whom also played high school soccer. I got in for a few minutes…but was so bad that I pulled myself out. Riley says I have a head like a six pence…whatever that means.

Mr. B came by and reminded my that we have 6 teaching days and a wake up and then we are out of here, he was in a great mood. He asked how I was set for cash and I told him that I still had 20-bucks in the bank and I should make it through okay. He said that there was this local lady that had called and wanted some lessons. He said Tom and Riley had first dibs…he said she was paying $15 bucks an hour! Wow.

Tuesday August 2nd 1977, Mercersburg Academy

It was a long morning, by noon it already had reached 88, according to Mr. B. The heat is nothing compared to the west, it’s the humidity that takes it all out of you. Tom Sheridan put me out on court 13 all morning, that’s the price I pay for video taping and not hitting balls yesterday! Court 13 is the court that is the softest, for some reason no mater how many times we roll it, nor how much water we dump on the court we can’t get it to pack down tight…by mid morning its not much better than a sandbox and its been a ruin of many a good counselor.
We use court 13 as the teaching court for the beginners and everyone must do time there. Usually its just once per session but time doesn’t pass…the clock stops and it’s a bit hotter, its dustier, the water fountain is in another zip code. I barely survived.

In the afternoon I got to operate the V.T.R. and showed the kids the tape of their hitting yesterday. It was nice and cool in the drying room behind the gym…stark contrast to the courts where it was in the 90’s. That part of the afternoon flew by…at 4:00 the courts were empty because of the heat. Except for Sanderson and X and John Day and I. I played Sandy because he wanted another shot at my after beating him yesterday. I was up 2-0 when I realized how well I was playing, how crisp my shots were…that’s when I started to crumble and he beat me 6-4. I couldn’t do a thing with that 110 mph serve. I also tried to lob him because of the heat but he didn’t miss a single overhead.

I had dinner with Jonathan Mudd and then we hit after dinner, he's a cool kid with excellent ground strokes. His stories are interesting about his family and he wanted to hear all about Idaho. He told me that they have relatives in St. Maries…that’s 12 hours north of where I live but it’s a lovely town. He was telling me about his band that he and his buddies put together and they play high school parties and dances in Mclean, Va.; that sounds very cool; we have a teen idol right here in camp.

I got another letter from Tennis Coach Marty Holly at ISU. He said that he's recruited 6 players from California but said I was welcome to walk on. It turns out that Im the only one that got the letter, so I don’t know what that means other than the new coach has cleaned house. I think Charlie Fenske must have interceded on my behalf. Bobby Dickinson got a phone call from Holly earlier in the season and he told him that he was going to enroll at Texas Arlington. I’m writing back that I’m game and will challenge my way back on the team. Hell, I did it once already.

I told Mr. B about it and he said to show up and play and see what happens. I asked him if Frank Jr. could help me out at Ohio State, I liked the look on FXB’s face…amused, like I was crazy. Frank Jr. has done an amazing job at Ohio State and is a hot tennis commodity. I wouldn’t make the Jr.-Jr. Varsity.

Monday, August 1st 1977, Mercersburg Academy

I left the window open last night and the air was fresh and clean, out in the halls though, it was choas as new campers scrambled to get ready for breakfast. I could hear Mr. B. out in the hallway talking to campers, one kid asking if he could call home. Three, two, one…knock at the door; Mr. B. is standing there with a homesick 9 year old. I take the kid to breakfast dropping him off at a table of 9 and 10 year olds and the problem is solved. Later in the day I ask him if he wants to call home, “what for?” definitely, end of problem.

Mr. B welcomed all the kids to camp in his talk and then lapsed into a long talk about how this isn’t all about tennis. The kids are here because their parents love them and want a life for them that will challenge them, and sharpen them for the world. That tennis is a great way to connect with good, talented people, that tennis is a sport you can do for a lifetime, and perhaps the most interesting point: For the most part one cannot play a perfect match of tennis, just as one cannot have a perfect life, that once you think you have either mastered; it caves in on you. You can get frustrated and quit, or you can get up and find a way to win. One can pursue the perfect set and might come close …but odds are there’ll always be a mistake, a ball in the net, a missed serve, a ball hit out. He talked about how this game mirrors life, that life can knock us on the seat of our pants, but we must compete to live and while things may look perfect it seldom is, but to strive for perfection, strive to be the best person you can, to practice and work at it; is noble…and he called tennis a very noble game.

I watched the kids during the talk, they sit on the baseline and they draw and play in the green clay as Mr. B talks, you can see the wheels turning in their minds. When FXB talks its silent and his voice booms over the lower courts all the way to the cornfields across the street. I remember once in the first session I overheard a little 10-year old say that Mr. B’s stories were better than TV and that reinforces a thought that I had, that his talks are so visual and so real that you think it happened to you, that’s the mark of good storyteller.

We started video taping the kids on the expensive sony reel to reel video deck. We have a machine just like this at Idaho State and they are the best and the most expensive, I think our department paid 3500.00 for ours…Mike Kunz and I give the gear the white glove treatment, we’re the only ones that can touch it.

After feeding for an hour I got to go up on the balcony with FXB. We were shooting these girls from Tappan that Mr. B teaches during the year…Dunja and Randi Henrichs. He was talking about how talented Dunja was, she has beautiful strokes, kind of a tomboy, and then he lapsed into this story about BJK.

Mr. B told me than in the summer of 1959 he went to the Eastern Grass Court Championships where this 16 year old kid from Long Beach was up against Wimbledon champ Maria Bueno. He said that this little girl with cat eye glasses stood barely 5’6 and had as he described it 'more freckles than fear'. FXB said she did the unimaginable, she took hold of the match and that from the start he saw something special in the kid. Instead of being intimidated against the number one player in the world, that this Moffit girl walked on the court like she was going to win. He said that she attacked so well that it put the champ on her heels. He said that in the end Bueno had to change her game and attack to pull it out but the match was the talk of tennis that summer. Afterwards he talked to Billie and said she was red faced and mad and he was impressed with her fire. He said that he introduced himself and told her that one day she was going to be good, and that with some work she can beat anyone. They struck up a friendship and Billie started staying with Brennans every summer. FXB said they would pack up the station wagon and coach Billie through the summer circuit. He said that she so fit into the big Brennan clan that she was dubbed the 10th kid. Just three years later she beat Margaret Smith in the first round of Wimbledon.

Terence had a good day at camp, I couldn’t help but notice his Fred Perry shirt with the BJK monogram on it, further evidence of the days when women players won clothes instead of money. Just like I asked Coleen Brennan during adult camp, I asked Terence is there a lot of Fred Perry stuff at the house? Terence said a closet full. BJK fought for the money, could careless about the clothes.

We got through the taping and then broke for lunch. It was a good lunch day…pizza and the kids were excited. Some were impressed with the fact that they could drink as much chocolate milk as they want and glasses were stacked up.

I sat with the camper Jon Mudd that I met the day before, he’s a junior in High School, He is tall and decked out in Fila Bjorn Borg stuff, he has a Donnay racquet and even the headband. The first thing I noticed about him is that this guy is a comedian. He had me laughing the whole time with his impressions and jokes. On tape he has excellent ground strokes and can hold his own with the best tennis players in camp, he’s a good athlete.

At 4 I played Mark Sanderson and beat him 6-4. I decided to hit off pace balls at him…he’s a power hitter and that screwed up his timing. He went back to the room because he was tired, I stayed and then hit with Pat Rountree, who is hitting very well.

I helped Pat with court duty and we brushed the courts, dragging the long brooms from end to end and then we turned on the sprinklers and sat on the balcony at sunset until the puddles started to form. We talked about her family in Toronto and her studies at York. She told me about their cabin up north on the Georgian Bay and how she usually spends her summers up there. I told her that I had met Peter Burwash a few times, he’s a famous coach that has a camp at Parry Sound. She was acquainted with him, the tennis world is so small. What a great gal.

Sunday, July 31st, 1977

We woke up to dead silence, there were no kids, no doors slamming, no running in the hallway. I heard Mr. and Mrs. Brennan up early packing the car. I heard Mr. B's whistling, he is a very good whistler, he gets a lot of practice because he whistles every morning...I like it, its my FXB warning system and he doesn't whistle when he's mad or upset; so when he is whistling he's happy.

We are resuming our counselor tournament, we have matches all day. I'm playing my second round match, I beat Andy Greenspan in the first round. I'm playing Bobbie Dickinson and I talked to Mr. B about the match. His advise was simple, hit deep down the middle, keep it to his backhand and cut off the topspin by coming inside the baseline...Dickinson and I played challenge matches at ISU and I could stay with him till about 3-3 and then he always pulls away by hitting angles to the outside, getting me off the court and forcing defensive lobs. I had a 6-4 match with him on clay...by the time I figured it out it was too late.

I'm now getting ready to man the check in desk at Fowle, We have 88 kids coming in...that's down 20 than the previous three sessions, it should be a cakewalk. I am on duty with Bevin, Marc Solomon, Feinberg, X and Pat Roundtree...so it should be fun. Solomon and Feinberg have a dry sense of humor and they keep me laughing.

It's 10:30 now, we got all the new campers in bed and got them through lights out. Roger Mudd from CBS news brought his son Jonathan to camp, I got to talk to them and what a family. Mr. Mudd has a booming cheerful voice and Jonathan is funny. Mrs. Mudd is the classic Virginia mom...doting, cheerful, with wonderful southern manners. I've been a big news watcher since 1st grade and cant count the number of times Ive seen Mr. Mudd on TV. The most memorable I think was the 1964 Democratic convention, he anchored that one replacing Walter Cronkite. He's amazing on the air with a smooth confident way about him. I want to work in news one day...when Mr. Mudd comes back Ill ask him about it. I'm taking journalism and news writing classes now.

Mr. B came and watched my match. I don't think anyone has ever showed just to watch me play not even the parents. The advise worked, rather than play behind the baseline I played inside the baseline and stole set up time from him...meaning I was taking the ball on the rise and hitting deep back in the court before he had time to set up. On the backhand side I made him look bad because he couldn't get the racket back soon enough and I forced a lot of errors. We played even until 3-3 and then he broke me by hitting deep to the baseline on the return which forces a short shot...he angled the short balls and it was all over. I started running around his forehand and I had to change my game. I went to a high ball strategy to eliminate the short angles that played into his strength--the moon ball and I lost the second 6-1. Mr. B said that this was the wrong type of player for me. He says I'm a counter puncher and that's not a great thing to be on clay. He said he liked what I did in the first and should have kept at it...he said the unforced errors killed me and is right. Mr. B says I need to own the middle of the court, I need to mix it up and I have to be able to hit deep 10 or 15 times in a row. He had some great advise and said I'm not far from a break through. That made me feel good...He said I need to initiate and dictate play and everything else will fall into place.

Mr. B. said he had a great weekend with Mrs. B and was sad to see her go. He said they went out to dinner and had a great time, but said its all downhill from here. He said the corn is just about 'eye high to an elephant,' when its eye high, he says its time to head to the Jersey shore.

He said he and Mrs. made all the final plans for the shore. Its sounds like they have a ball because all the kids come and go and there's barbeque's and dinners with their friends, he says its his favorite time of the year. Then he says its just a few weeks from the U.S. Open, and the big tournaments in Mahwa and Orange.

I have to get some sleep, Mondays are huge, they are so tiring and the day seems to last a week.

Mr. B came by a while ago and wants me to help with the video taping. I get to feed balls. Mr. B stands on the gym balcony with his bull horn and comments on camper groundstrokes...its incredibly hard work for everyone. We are so good at taping that we can will run all 88 kids through the chute by noon...then the kids will watch the tape in the afternoon.

Saturday, July 30th, 1977

Sanderson and I skipped breakfast because we were up so late last night. I remember hearing the kids stirring out in the Lounge, many were up early to watch cartoons, others headed to the courts, while most packed. The parents started arriving at 11-am and it was an endless parade of Volvo station wagons, argyles, Lacoste and topsiders. The parents were surprised to see their healthy suntanned kids. There were many smiles and hugs and so many reunions. We got to know the kids so well and then to meet the parents is a treat, its amazing how much the kids and the parents are alike.

Mr. B is always front and center when the parents arrive and they flock to him like a moths to flame. We always brief him on the kids so he has a report in his mind if asked how the kids did. He wants to hear all the success stories and also difficulties if asked.

At 11:30 Peg arranged a big chicken barbeque for the kids and parents, this is where the dining hall staff shines, they do such a great job and its always a yummy spread of salads, lemonade and ice cream deserts. I stuffed myself and I swear Sanderson has a hollow leg…the most surprising counselor on barbeque day is Roger Dickinson, he downed at least two chickens, where a thin guy like that can put that much food is one of the great mysteries of life.

Mrs. B came to the barbeque for a few minutes and I introduced myself and she said, ‘so you’re Jake, Frank’s told me all about you.” I hope that’s good--we talked for a while and she asked me to keep an eye on Terence, to make sure that he mixes in with the other kids. I don’t think that’s going to be a problem the kid is here a day and is best friends with a few counselors and the outgoing campers, he has that Brennan knack of making friends.

I played tennis in the afternoon with Sanderson. I was down 4-1 in the first against that killer serve and saw something…If I pick that ball up on the rise and return deep it catches Mark off-guard. I started catching the ball on the rise and returning it deep to the backhand, he started missing. On the second I approached and again he started missing. I broke and held and broke again…its 4-4 and he’s looking gassed and perplexed. I threw a few drop shots in the mix and some lobs and pulled out the first 6-4. I took the second 6-4 with just one service break, so Im happy.

I then hit with Chris Russell-Vick and we worked on lobs and overheads…I swear at one point I hit 30 in a row, her feeds were so perfect. She can lob and drop on a dime and give you some change. Its no wonder that she’s ranked in England and sponsored by Dunlop.

At 4pm we went to the Quarry for a swim…Andy Greenspan, me, Tom, and one of Andy’s friend that stopped by for a visit. The Quarry is an amazing place where they used to mine granite for buildings…its so deep and the water is emerald and people dive off the cliffs into the water. There were many crazy looking towny types there so we kept our distance. We found this little cove and we were diving and swimming there and to our surprise came upon 3 gals that were skinny dipping and diving off the cliffs naked. They were stunning and looked very much like the Siren’s I read about in my World Literature class, I swear…We chatted with them and they wanted us to join them but the water was soooo cold that none of us dared to drop our drawers! So much for adventure.

Tom’s parents came to visit from Michigan and they took us to Foot of the Mountain for dinner. I had the shrimp dinner and strawberry pie…and then a milkshake to go. What wonderful parents they dote on Tom and because Im his friend I got the treatment as well. These are about the most perfect parents one could have.

We stopped by Coves Gap, the birthplace of James Buchanon and Tom’s dad and I had a conversation about how strange President Buchanon was that he was a bachelor, his avoidance of the slavery issue and sat out the war on his farm near here. He died a bitter man and many people at the time were upset with him for not making an attempt to avoid the war, it was a good talk. Coves Gap is amazing…tall beautiful woods and a pyramid where the cabin once stood…now it stands near the gym on the Mercersburg Campus.

Mr. and Mrs. B left in the afternoon and when we got back Tom and I checked up on Terence. He was in the upstairs lounge talking to Dickinson , Vrana and Fanning…they had all gone downtown for dinner and were in good spirits. Roger was listening to a Phillies game on the radio. The TV had a Pirates game on it was sports choas so I went downstairs to read. X dropped by for balls and he and John Day were heading out to play 5 sets…I didn’t ask why. Five sets…are you kidding?

We went out at 9. Pat, Chris, Eric, Mike, Bevin, Marc and I went to the Mercersburg Inn for drinks. Stephie the manager made us popcorn and she came and sat with us. The place was empty and she was happy to have company. I stayed until 11:30 then walked Bevin back to Tippits. It was a beautiful night with a billion stars and the crickets and fireflies kept us company.

Friday July 30th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

It's tournament day! The counselors all love tournament day because we don't have to teach, we get to officiate the matches give tips afterwards, congratulate the winners and counsel the losers.

Mr. B gave a great speech about competition, that the best competitors are nervous and after the first ball is struck if you can lose yourself in the ball, you can get over the nerves. He talked about how when he played that he would never take his eye off the ball, if the ball went to the corner, or into the net FXB would fix on the ball and everyone watching and every sound and balls rolling on the court. He said that when things are going wrong its usually feet or concentration and both are and easy fix.

FXB told us about watching Bill Tilden one time in Orange in the late 30's and how he fixed on the ball and how close he kept track of the balls and he looked at the ball longingly before he served...how intently he watched the ball as the server bounced it, then lifted it, then struck it...how he watched it come up off the court and how he would try to see which way the ball was spinning. What a great tip, concentration on this clay is the toughest thing because of the patience and the bad bounces.

The kids had a ball in the big tournament, they played hard...the group of juniors all breezed through the early rounds, the last eight fought savagely but Rick Fanning pulled out the win in boys singles, he is good...all that hitting with Vrana paid off, there isnt a situation he cannot handle. He can handle topspin the sharp angles the drop shots and lobs...plus he has a tough serve and tougher service return.

Mr. B. came by this afternoon and we ran to the store to get coffee and stuff because of the Mrs. B visit, he's just like a school kid getting ready for the dance. He also wanted me to get Terence fixed up in a room with linen and a key...we have a camper that's staying over a session and we fixed him up in that room. Hes a good kid with surprising long hair, a big smile and easy disposition, he'll do fine.

We had a great dinner and all the kids were scrubbed and excited for the dance...all the girls seemed to be on one side of Ford Hall and the boys on the other as if they were scoping each other out. I ate with Bevin and Roger Dickinson and we talked about which campers would end up with whom at the dance, love is in the air.

Mike Kunz and I carried all the gear to the drying room in back of the gym, thats where we have all the dances. We ran the speaker wire, hooked everything up and went through the music tapes...soon the first kids started to arrive...the young ones first. They were running around and rolling in the grass and having a great time, an hour later the older kids showed, looking sharp.

By 11:30 we had all the kids rounded up, Tom Sheridan and I walked the grounds to pick up stray kids, we then had bed checks, then it was our turn. We sat up in the Lounge and Roger and Kenny and X, Sanderson and Lenny and Mike all stayed up until 1-am. We went out and caught some campers sneaking out. We are sooo good, Roger heard it was going down and we scooped the kids up 15 feet from the front door of Fowle.

Its after 1-am...I must get some sleep so I can play in the morning!

Thursday, July 29th, 1977, Mercersburg

We have so many competitive juniors that Mr. B sent us to the High School for the afternoon so the kids could get some playing time on hard courts. They’re all playing in a big national tournament in Cleveland next week and its on Hard courts. I got to go and we got to play afternoon matches with them and I beat Glen a kid that Mr. B. teaches during the year. I barely took him in a competitive match 7-5, 7-5. The kid could play for Idaho State next year, instead he’ll be a sophomore in Franklin Lakes.

Mr. B came by talked to us in the afternoon, he wanted to make sure the kids all had tough matches. Bobby Dickinson played Rick Fanning and barely beat him 7-6, 7-6. Tom Vrana played one of the kids from Hawaii and ran the little guy into the ground but the kid still split sets with him. These are nationally ranked juniors and a handful.

Afterwards I stayed and hit with Pat Rountree. She is such a tall, cute girl and hit’s the ball a ton off her forehand. She’s one of our best counselors on and off the court and Mr. B likes her because she is all business. She runs that girls dorm like a platoon sergeant, and she loves to boss me around but she doesn’t get far, she’s had a crush on me all summer, Mr. B says I should give in, I told him what makes you think I haven’t? He gave me that amused look, he knows everything that goes on here.

Mr. B. told me that Mrs. B was coming down on Saturday, that she was bringing Terence and that they were going out to dinner to some French restaurant in the Maryland countryside on Saturday before she headed back early Sunday morning. He’s excited to see her because I noticed he did his laundry and cleaned up the apartment. Mr. B and laundry should not be mentioned in the same sentence. He washes his socks and underwear in the sink and his tennis shorts in the tub. I offered to take a load with my laundry a few weeks ago but he always refuses. He thinks twenty five cents for a load of laundry is highway robbery and reasons that the air is free.

I sat with X at dinner and we talked a lot about music and again I asked him why Ringo Starr isn’t a great drummer, he gave me that look of his and with great condescension said that he’s a fill drummer that while he’s great at improvisation he's not technically sound. I’ve watched X practice on his pads and he’s precise and perfect like a metronome, I know little but know that X sounds pretty good.

X and I played after dinner and what I thought was going to be an hour set turned into a three hour marathon in which he pulled out a 7-5 win. I had him 6-2 in the first but he ran me corner to corner, drop shot and lobbed me…Im still aching and dirty from gritty clay all over me. I don’t feel bad at all, we both played well. I know to beat him I ‘ll have to keep the ball deeper so he can’t angle me.

Wednesday, July 28th, 1977, Mercersburg, P.A.

I slept well, Mark slept well and when morning broke we were up and at 'em. The first thing we did was count the balls and we found that we're way ahead of last session in our ball count. We didn't get all the balls back from counselors last night so we'll get 'em this morning.

I heard Mr. B whistling first thing this morning and smelled the coffee from his his apartment so I knew he was up early. He took the 280 Z down to the gym and hit for a half hour behind the gym. He loves the routine and it keeps the groundies sharp.

We had Breakfast in the dining hall which was amazing as usual then headed for the courts. It's fun to show up a few minutes early and hit and many kids were already there and eager to burn off breakfast. Mr. B. showed up on the clay about 8:15 to watch us hit and he said he likes the new loop forehand. Im doing real well with it and have noticed more more depth and accuracy.

The lecture today was about out chocking in a match. Mr. B says its natural to be nervous its how you handle the pressure. FXB thinks its best to redirect all that energy into the match and into the moment not about the past or the future--just the moment. He says most of the chocking comes from the dialogues we have in our minds specifically after the match, what people are going to say if you lose, FXB says keep it present and keep it now and you'll do fine. If your opponet can beat you so be it.

He told us about going to Wimbledon with Billie and seeing the Kipling quote in the tunnel on the way out to Centre Court. "IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you..." He talked about how important 'If' is... It was a wonderful talk about triumph not only over the opponet but one's self, and how you a person has so many things to overcome, but if you can keep your head and adjust to change you can triumph. He talked about BJK's first Wimbledon when she was a teen and how she and Karen just showed up every day and played doubles. They didn't look too far ahead and they didnt read about themselves in the paper, they just played and had a ball. There wasn't a sound during the lecture, all kids were fixed on FXB, as if we were all tuned into the same movie of the mind, then FXB, I dont know how he did it but he began to recite the 'If" poem.

"IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise...

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools..."

He built it to a crescendo with the last paragraph from memory:

"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds' worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! "

He finished with a great life lecture, that tennis is just a run through for the big game and that one day we must treat treat triumph and disaster the same. You could have heard a pin drop, Mr. B. played it like a great shakespearean actor...he let the silence linger and then told us to get on with the day, and our lives.

Goose bumps...what impact, you could feel the excitement, I doubt a Barrymore ever had a moment like this on stage. Mr. B on his good days was just about unbeatable, I doubt John Wooden could have beaten him today and he was beaming afterwards, he knew he hit this one out of the park. Who knows how many ships he launched into the business world, or medicine, or tennis?

Im sitting in the lounge of Fowle Hall now, Im on dorm duty and Im writing all this in my journal. Mr. B just came out of the apartment still on cloud 9. He looked at me and then my Journal and said "Jake a writer?, Christ, I should have known, I hope you got all that down this morning!"

I did Mr. B; and now its with us forever.

Tuesday, July 25th 1977, Mercersburg, P.A.

We worked hard this morning, it was back to grind after a rainy day and Mr. B makes sure we make up for lost time. We worked on the backhand and it’s a challenge because so many of the kids want to hit the two handed shot, they see Borg and Evert and think it will work for them. I think it limits range, motion and options. With a two hander, unless you have incredible talent, you will never master an under spin shot, will never have a great backhand lob or drop shot. I think you lose too many tools plus the mobility. There are a few that can still hit all the shots, I’m stressing few.

All things considered Mr. B likes the two hander, he says Evert, Borg and Connors have made it work for them…as well as Solomon and Dibbs. Mr. B. says for the shot to work the player has to have superior foot work and racquet preparation.

The kids were ready for tennis this morning, they had so much energy, I think it comes from the blue skies and the fresh smell after a long rain. Everyone was energized and the counselors all realized that we have just two more teaching days and then we can coast into this ‘tweener’ weekend. A ‘tweener’ weekend is a weekend between sessions and it’s one of the few weekends that we can actually go out on the town. The Scots have already scheduled Saturday night at the Mercersburg Inn, and then possibly McKinstry’s pub. These guys like their beer and they can drink a lot of it.

Lunch was fantastic today, they made pizza and it was cheesy and good and the crust was perfect. Many of us went back for seconds, I downed at least two pitchers of milk…afterwards I went back to the room and started reading, its my afternoon off.

I had to run to the bank, I’m broke. I’ve really been through the money over the past 7 weeks I’ve spent $50.00 and I only have $75.00 left in the bank. I went through my receipts, and found that I spent a big load in Washington. Mr. B had asked me how I was doing for money and said I could get an advance if I needed it. Mr. B. is the camp safety net, He advanced Bobby and Roger $20.00 a piece, I guess Mr. Dickinson had called Mr. B and had him advance them money.

Mercersburg on a summer afternoon is a delightful place, it was a beautiful walk to the bank with everything so bright and fresh. I knew that I was becoming a local when that Stoner kid, the camp terror nodded at me. Mr. B. hates the kid with a passion because as he tells it a few years back he caught him the girls dorm one night and found out from campers that he was selling drugs. He seems alright to me, but we’ve only nodded in the street. I know I could take him if I had to but he doesn’t seem like the fighting type.

I stopped by Brian Barkers house on the way home and he was sitting at his T.V. set drinking ice tea. Of course he had problems with the TV set when I showed and I gave the television a good going over, there was nothing wrong with it. He started telling me a story about coming over here in the 20’s and how in his youth he and a rival were the best caroline players in England, that he came to the colonies and his buddy went to Oxford. He says he made the right move. I bid Brian good bye and he told me to send Mr. B by for a tea with a wink (Brian’s been known to mix his tea with Irish whiskey).

At 4 I played a match with Pat and Ken and Chris, They beat us bad…8-2. It wasn’t Feinberg’s serve or his volleys that killed us but Chris Russel-Vick’s world class lob. She just ate us up…when we were both back after chasing a lob she would put it away with that crazy overhead of hers…that looks much like Frankie Durr’s from the pro tour.

After that set I played Feinberg in singles, it was a close match but I lost 4 and 4. He beat me in the most basic way…he held serve and broke once. It was a mental fight with both fighters moving the opponent off the court. I dropped him and then tried the mouse trap, the lob but he recovered too fast and would often move from defense to offense. Then there were the serving games, that’s the most critical thing on clay, just hold your serve. This transition to clay has been tough! Feinberg plays for Johns Hopkins University and says they had a good year.
After dinner Sheridan and I went for a car ride to Foote of the Mountain resturant for pie. I had the best strawberry and whip cream pie of my career, the pie took away the sting of the double loss this afternoon. Tom thinks I need to not force the points…he says I’m getting in the middle of a point and trying to end it, he says you cant do that on clay. I agree.

I went up to Lenny and Kunz’s room tonight and we listened to the new Earth Wind and Fire Album, I love that song “Shinning Star’ and “Way of the World”. They also have Pink Floyd's Darkside of the Moon that’s such a mind trip and sounds great in the headphones.

There’s a full moon with white puffy clouds, I went over to the girls dorm and hung out with Bevin on the steps, we talked till about 11:30. We discussed everything from school to families, she talked a lot about her sisters, they sound so cool, I would love to meet them. I wish I could go to the Cape with her after camp.

Monday July 24th, 1977

Rainy days and Mondays, Mondays are tough but add some clouds, lightning and thunder and a tough day is even tougher. It was dark and foreboding all morning and then after lunch the rain started falling. We got the kids in the gym and then Mr. B asked me to help him out. We went to the warehouse and picked up a couple of cases of new balls. This past two weeks we lost just 22 balls.

When I got back to the gym all 105 kids were playing around the world on the four indoor wood courts...the noise level was about the same as a 737...Its a tough environment to teach in, but the kids love it because they actually get a lot of hitting in.

At 4:30 we set the gym up for basketball and we also had the pool opened so the kids had a lot of different options. Mr. B. had Mike Kunz, Lenny and I set up the video tape so the counselors could look at their tape; some of us didnt get to see the tape, some wanted to see it again. Im amazed at my forehand. From a straight back forehand to a loop, it looks good and makes all the difference in the world.

The rain is still falling, its been falling since this afternoon, a lot of the kids came in early and the dorms have been noisy with lots of rough-housing. Mr. B came out of his apartment and was not happy with the kids, he came into my room and had me settle the kids down, I sent them to the girls dorm, they have a better TV room. Its quiet now and I think everyone will sleep well tonight because its nice and cool.

Sunday July 23rd, 1977 Mercersburg

A few times a day I walk the perimeter of the courts to pick up balls. I love to look out over the cornfields to the north...off in the distance I see the Tuscarora Mountains. It almost looks like home, these mountains only rank as foothills in Idaho but beautiful nonetheless. Its always a time for reflection, I always hear the morning doves on these walks and in the distance I smell the familiar farm smells.

We woke with the great feeling of not having to work, that we can go to the courts and play. Sanderson and I had breakfast and then went down to the courts and hit for a half hour, then played a set. Even on clay, Sanderson's serve is too tough...he held serve with a late break and won 6-4. I need to stay with him and go for the break. I need to give him different looks and take him out of his rhythm. I was happy with the workout and by 11:00 we headed back to the dorms, because we had to get ready for the annual Sports Camp versus Tennis Camp basketball game.

The campers filed into the gym after lunch, Sports camp on one side, Tennis camp on the other. Sanderson was our center, Solomon Feinberg, and Day played forwards and Bobby, Roger, Mike Kunz X and I were the guards. Bobby D, and I played against each other in Intramurals at Idaho State so we know each others games quite well. Bobby is a good shooter, Im much better at defense. The game was close, we traded baskets and Sanderson had 12 points by the half, Bobby had 10 and I had 2, Roger had 4, and Feinberg 4. They clamped us down in the second half and the game went into overtime. Mr. B. dropped by to watch and he was snapping photos and was beaming like a proud papa. We scored first in the overtime but then Sports Camp scored 6 straight and ran out the clock for a 54-48 win. It was great fun and we proved to the Sportsters that tennis players can play. Mr. B came talked to us afterwards and said that this was one of the better basketball teams he has seen over the summers, that's saying a lot with Charlie Fenske,Marv, Skip and some of the basketball greats.

Eric Riley and Doug Hamilton played Bobby D. and I in doubles...it was a classic match up, Scotland versus Idaho State. Bobby played number 1 doubles during the year and had some great matches in conference, I played number 3 and we won our share, but we're both singles players and we didn't come to the net much, that's a problem. The Scots beat us 6-4.

I had a letter from Mike Zaladonis, a teammate from ISU. He apologized for our last match before I came to camp. We met at the Reed Gym Courts and I was confident coming off the conference tournament and thought I would roll over him, in fact he rolled over me 2 and 2. I thought I was playing well and and I ran to the net post I said 'lets play two out of three, there's no way Im losing to you today." That pissed Zaladonis off and he said you re on. I won the third 7-5, won the fourth 6-3 and won the fifth 7-6. As I ran to the net to shake his hand 2 hours later with a big beaming smile on my face, I held out my hand and he nearly broke my wrist. He said, I beat you, but this god dammed sticky grip..." we walked off the court both wounded, it was a victory that I won't forget. Mike wrote that he was upset because he had beat me in straight sets and was pissed at my cockiness. I wrote him back that the apology was accepted but I wasn't cutting him any slack, that I'll be kicking his ass in August when I get back. That should renew the rivalry!

Its a quiet Sunday night, the kids are in bed, Sanderson is still bragging about 18 points in the basketball game. Mr. B was out in the hallway a few minutes ago, he said that he had a call from Frank Jr. and that things were going well there and then both talked about the Jersey shore. That's just three weeks away and Ive noticed everyone is talking about getting back to college. I have to get back to ISU, I have a new coach to meet and the word is that Bobby D and I will have to walk on to play. Bobby took it as an insult because he was MVP and the number 1 player, I had to walk on last year so its not a big deal for me. Bobby is thinking of going to Texas Arlington next year. That's the world of college tennis, play to play.

Saturday July 23rd, Mercersburg Academy

We had to work today because we took last Monday off for the Washington Star tournament.

The day was cool and sunny and we worked on serves, overheads and lobs. Mr. B says when hitting the lob you have to hide the shot, you simply open up the face of the racquet with the same swing and follow through. The secret to a good lob is what you do with the left hand on the throat of the racquet. You have to make the adjustment with the left, that means that you have to make your mind up early and execute the shot.

We only worked a half day...which was great. After lunch Mike Kuntz and Mr. B broke out the video gear and all the counselors got to be video taped. For many of us it was the first time we've seen our groundstrokes. I was happy with what I saw...Mr. B had a few changes...he thinks I need to loop the firehand, I was dropping the head of the racquet and it was a 'back and through stroke, the loop should give me consistancy and power. My volleys look great, the serve looks good. Mr. B says my best shot is the backhand. I hit a one hander and can top or underspin at will...with the underspin I can lob or drop and its hard to read...Mr. B really liked that.

Mr. B was very impressed with Sanderson's serve, he says its amazing that he can generate that much heat...he says its his slow to fast motion. Mr. B. snapped photos of all the counselors before they hit. He's very good with the camera and snappes hundreds of photos that he gives out the campers...they're great keepsakes and my collection is growing.

Mr. B came to the net post today and chatted, he talked about the Jersey shore and the big family vacation. He says its an annual event and a great way to put a cap on the summer. He's says Mrs. B starts planning in June and all the kids show. Ive never been to the Alantic coast he says its packed because everyone leaves the NYC because of the heat. He said he was glad that he took Charlies advice and hired me, he said Charlie had called specifically to ask about me and make sure I was behaving. He said that I was one of his best 'recommends' and that I was a good guy..." a diamond in the rough', whatever that means!

Later in the day we were all on the courts playing, counselors, campers and there wasnt an open court. I was just finishing another match in which I beat X 5 and 5. Mr. B came up said that he got some rattlesnake eggs in the mail, they were in an envelope and he said he was afraid they might hatch. Being from the west and growing up on a farm he wanted me to open the envelope and make sure they were not hatching. I grabbed the envelope and opened the flap and heard a distinctive rattle, I threw the envelope in the air and let out a scream. Mr. B was laughing so hard that he wasnt breathing, his face was red and tears flowing. I looked in the envelope it was a rubber band wrapped around a paperclip and a button. I cant believe I fell for that one, but it was so funny.

After dinner I hit with Riley...I volleyed for an hour while he worked on his groundies. I kept every ball about two feet in front of him and got to check out his racquet prep, he is smooth. Afterwards Hamilton came out on the court and I was able to hit with him, he is steady and technically sound. He and Riley talked a lot about their tournaments in Scotland and how regimented and organized everything is...much different in the USA...here you show up and play.

We hit the showers and then it was time to go to the camper dance. I sat next to Bevin and we chatted the night away, I would love to see William and Mary College, it sounds like such a beautiful place. I had a long talk with Becky Craft, she goes to Wellsley, I would love to see Boston and her school sounds like an amazing place. I have a friend from High School that's going there but they dont know each other. If I had a million dollars I trust Beck Craft with it, she is so honest, sweet and cute, its an honor being her friend.

Lenny and I walked back to the Dorms and got all the kids on our wing in their rooms and ready for bed. He's just a kid himself...we are heading over to the girls dorm to watch SLN and then he's going to play the piano, what a talent.

Friday July 22nd, 1977 Mercersburg Academy

Its been a long two-week haul with the weather and heat but the campers have made it through the week with little difficulty. We have some hitters this session, a bunch of kids that are nationally ranked. It's fun to hit with these future college stars and have the chance to mold them. I lost last night to one of the kids from Hawaii, we played a set and I played him even but he pulled away at 5-5. He said that he needed to play guys like me because I drop shot and lob and give him a lot of different looks. I guess thats a complement. The kid is ranked 11th nationally in 16's.

When we woke up this morning the first thing Sandy said it's cool outside. We had the window open and we were both cold, the radio said it was 68-degrees, the coolest morning since early June and it feels great and on top of that its clear.

Mr. Brennan lectured us today on winning and finding the drive to win. He says to be a winner you must be hungry to win, you have to have it in the belly. He talked a lot again about Althea Gibson and how every time she walked on the court she had something to prove, he said her hunger centered on the fact that she just wanted to be somebody.

He talked a lot about BJK and her teen years, he said she had a chip on her shoulder, and then he corrected himself and said she had chips on her shoulder. He talked about the time she played her first tournament at the LA racquet club and they wouldnt let her in the winner photo because she wasn't wearing a skirt. He said from that point on BJK was out to 'show the Country Club crowd'. FXB said BJK didn't know much about the 'club rules', at the park where she played you just showed up and played and there was no dress code.

He also talked about the USTLA and how BJK had to share her number ranking with Nancy Richey and how that was a blatantly political move and how that burned BJK up. He told us about the first time she won Wimbledon singles and how once she got over the elation of winning how upset she was when she realized how much more Laver got for his win...he told us that BJK is wonderfully complex, that these things were always on her mind, and inspired her to win. He said not since Althea Gibson had there been a woman 'peoples' champ.

Mr. B says that we should never discount the kids coming out of the public parks, he says they're hungry to win and when it's 4-4 in third, he'll bet on the park player because they'll work for the win, they're not expecting a handout, they're used to working for the win. I guess Im partial to Mr. B's comments, I'm a park kid...I wish I had the talent to go with the desire.

I played Tom Sheridan tonight and stayed with him through two sets but lost 4 and 5...two service breaks! Im getting better but must find another concentration gear when it gets tight. Mark and I are doing so well with ball duty that Mr. B says he's gonna owe me another 'Foot of the Mountain' dinner.

Thursday, July 21st, 1977, Mercersburg, PA

The day went fast…It was overhead and serve day. Mr. Brennan started up the morning lecture with a short declaration: “Without an overhead and serve you are without a game.” Mr. B told the campers that to become a great player you have to practice the shots that win points and that matches are not won with forehand and backhand winners alone

He called the overhead a psych stroke, when its on you’re golden when its off it’s lead. He told us how BJK hit 300 overheads a day leading up to the Bobby Riggs match. He said she also fine tuned the slice serve because she was working at pulling him off the court and running him…when good players run they lob to get back in the point and that’s how she set the trap; a tired Bobby Riggs lost in three sets. This lecture was an amazing insight into the match. Mr. B’s just as proud of that win as BJK, he told her play to play her game….

Using Mr. B’s service method I got these little 10 year old girls serving beautifully and consistently…instead of having them roll the ball off the finger tips I told them to lift the ball, holding it like a snow cone and eliminating the spin. Once they see the ball in the same place every time the serve is simple and natural, Mr. B’s method worked like a charm.
We have a new CIT counselor Mr. B brought this kid in to replace Liz. I guess he was a good high school player from the Northern N.J. area, he came to Mr. B on the recommendation of one of his friends. Mr. B has a vast tennis network and he knows everyone in NJ NY area. So this guy will get here over the weekend and then we should be back up to staff.

After 4 I hit with Xavier, John Day and Feinburg and we had a career doubles match. We hit volleys down the middle, dinked and lobbed and it frustrated Feinberg because he's a pace player and dominates. Day was hitting good and didn’t miss much but we hung with these guys and won the first set 7-5, we had them at 2-2 in the second but it got dark and the winds came up and with the crack of lightning a huge storm blew in. Sanderson and I ran frantically getting all the balls up before the cloud burst hit. It was a crazy storm for an hour or so, a regular Wizard of Oz class storm. I expected to see the bad witch. By the time we got back to the dorms we were soaked to the bone but the balls were dry and fine.

I got a letter from counselor Chris Russell-Vick, how adorable is that? I’ve just had a couple of letters this month. Mail is everything here, so I sat down and wrote Chris a letter thanking her and telling her what I’ve been up to…even though I see her and talk to her every day!
I work and live in constant fear. The fear is that I will let Mr. B down, I don’t want to do that because I came here on the strong recommendation of Charlie Fenske, I don’t want to let Charlie down. As I mentioned before, everyone comes here on the recommendation of someone in Mr. B’s network. I would only recommend someone that wouldn’t let me down. So the pressure is always on to do a good job and not be a pain in the ass. This is a good gig. I get three meals a day and room and board, all the tennis I can play on clay courts no less with one of the world’s greatest coaches. I should be paying Mr. B! Had I stayed in Idaho I would be in the trenches with my Dad laying pipe. Pipefitting is dirty hard work, I tried it last year and it was incredibly tough, filthy work. I don’t know how my Dad does it day in and day out without complaint.

Mr. B stopped by the net post this afternoon to chat as we watched the campers play their afternoon matches. I told him about our cable access TV show back in Poky, about my filmmaking classes and he thinks I should go to Hollywood, get an agent, make movies and marry a movie star. I’m thinking television where its at... But that’s FXB, nothing is impossible to him or out of reach, anyone can do anything if they put their mind to it.

Wednesday, July 20th 1977 Mercersburg Academy

This was a difficult day. Last night few slept a spectacular thunderstorm swept through the valley, I have never seen anything like it, lightning flashed and thunder cracked almost continuously until dawn. The lightning flashed so intense and so close that it was an erie blue, and then there was the strange smell of lightning, that other world fresh smell was in the air. The rain came down in sheets …when I dozed off morning came too quick. It was peaceful and strangely calm, almost as if nature was apologizing for raising hell all night. The humidity is so heavy and horrible that it was actually chilling.

I headed to the Ford Hall this morning and looking at the wide-eye campers I could tell they were terrified last night. Inside the dining hall the storm dominated the morning conversation. I can tell this is going to be one of those days. I sat with Bevin this morning and she said the little girls were up all night. She had three little ones in her room all night. She has a great mother instinct and I bet the girls were thankful for her being there.

After the storm only courts 12 and 13 were unplayable, Mr. B came and got me right after breakfast and Tom Sheridan and I, along with Vrana and the Dickinson’s were up at the hard courts drying them off. We had them ready to go by 9:30...because of the extreme heat. It was already in the mid 80s by 9:00 am and its going to be a scorcher today.

We were down 20 balls yesterday, I told Sheridan that Mr. B will be pissed so he and I went through all the dorms at the first break and recovered 14 balls. It always happens early in the session, counselors hoarding the new balls for their matches. So we’re down just 7 and that’s an acceptable loss. Sanderson and I have a reputation as the ball police and we nag everyone, this ball thing is our obsession. We check balls out from our room and if they don’t bring them back Tom S. hears about it and they get extra duties. The system is working and Mr. B is happy.

After work today Bevin and I played Eric and Pat. Riley dominated play even though I hit away from him. He has a deep service return and he hops to the net for the volley which he seldom misses. Its impossible to break his serve, they beat us 8-2. Bevin played well, she hit great lobs and served well but they stayed in the point. I was frustrated but weathered the storm. Crestfallen Bevin and I walked back to Tippets Hall, she was bummed that we lost and said we needed to put the lobs over Pat…I agree.

Mr. B talked about the backhand today and the one thing I really liked is the fact that the key to a good backhand is the other hand…you need the other hand to pull the racquet back and to change the grip. Mr. B says you have to read early, get the racquet back early so you hit through the ball. We talked about under spin and topspin and then he lapsed into a great story about BJK and how in the early days she dominated because she could hit pace, top spin and under spin equally in the course of a rally.

FXB says the women on the tour were too used to seeing flat, hard strokes. All of the sudden BJK was on the scene and she forced the game to deal with her and deal with different speeds and spins. BJK plays very much like her brother pitches in the majors, both masters at mixing it up, he said. FXB said more than once he chocked down chuckles from the sidelines as he watched confused opponent after opponent walk off the court in defeat. He's told me a few times that BJK at Wimbledon was a shark in bloody water. He loved her approach shot saying she fielded it like a shortstop charging and then would spoon the ball down the line breaking away from the opponet he said only Margaret Court had a chance handling that shot because she had the timing and reach on grass. FXB said BJK didn’t play their game, she played her own game, that she had her own drummer and 20 years later she‘s still winning, still a genius and still a shark.

Tuesday, July 19th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

It's hot again, I survived the day, Im in my room and according to WRCV its 103-degrees. It's hotter than a pizza oven in this room...Its so hot that I got a towel wet and wrapped it around my head just to cool off. When I was upstairs a few minutes ago Rick Fanning and Tom Vrana were in the showerroom sitting on chairs under the streams of cold water. They have been in there over an hour. Everyone has their ways of cooling off, I feel sorry for the kids they're really taking it hard. Mr. B had the pool opened for them and thats helping a lot...they place was packed.

I hit with camper Kathy Maso. Shes 16 and will play in the East Orange Pro tournament later this summer. She is solid off both sides, hits deep and doesnt miss...ever. We had one rally that lasted 55 hits cross court. She also has a solid serve and excellent returns.

Mr. B and I were watching Victor Amaya play at the Star. He is 6 feet 7 and has a cannon for a serve...its coming in at least 130 mph...but the guy he was playing this guy from the UK named Bertram, drop shotted him like crazy. Mr B says that if someone drops you, you should run with the racquet in front of you fully extended to give yourself the advantage of reach...and then you change the direction of the ball with a flick of the wrist should your opponet break one way or another. I tried it today and Mr. B is right...you dont have time to chase down a ball, pull the racquet back and then hit the shot. Its little tips like this that makes a difference in match play.

We got the video taping done, it was such a long tedious process but Mr. B's stories were fantastic. He told me a story about Betty Stove the great Belgian player...shes at least 6'1 and a very big girl. Mr B. told me that he and Billie were at Wimbledon practicing and someone threw a ball and hit her in the head. She came over to FXB and asked if he threw the ball, Mr. B. didnt and said so but she didnt believe him so she came over and picked him up and carried him across the court. He said Betty is sweet and nice but is strong as an ox could have suffocated him, it was a funny story and Mr. B's embellishments made it even better. He told me all about Clark Graebner and how he met his tennis pro wife Carol...he said in the late 60's they were the tennis couple of Forrest Hills.

Mr. B also told me Lenny's story. Lenny Saks is a counselor from Cambodia. He told me that his family escaped from the Khymer Rouge. He said they got out with just the clothes on their back and said thats why Lenny is so driven...and he's right, the kid wants to be the best at everything and he is...His tennis is perfect and flawless, his piano playing is stunning, Mr B says the kid made it through High School in just two years and will make it through college is three years. I dont know how he finds these counselors, all intelligent, all achievers.

Mark and I are still doing well on ball duty. Last session we lost just 48 balls...thats an average of just 5 a day. Mr B says he's never lost so few balls...I told him the count should be a bit better because the kids take balls back to their rooms so they can hit early in the morning. Nonetheless he said he's taking me to the Foot of the Mountain resturant for dinner in just a few minutes, he invited Mark but he has a match tonight with John Day.

Its bedtime now, but I have to say the food tonight was amazing. I had Alantic Salmon and had a side order of corn fritters. Mr. B. took a bottle of Rothschild's Mouton Cadet and I had a glass. I dont like red wine but this was very good. We talked about the depression and WWII. Mr. B says that his family struggled through the depression but it wasnt too bad, he mentioned that his mother had won the N.J. state Lottery and that got them through the bad times. I dont know if he was serious or the if the lottery was an allegory for something else but his stories were interesting.

He told me about the time when he was little, seeing Babe Ruth at Yankee Stadium. His story was so real that I swear I saw the Babe strike out twice before hitting a homerun late in the game...I think he said it was sometime in 34 or 35. He said that the Babe had a soft spot for kids...and after one game he was called out of a bar by some kids that wanted an autograph. He said that he signed one and then there were 20 or 30 out there. He signed them all and then had the bartended bring out three cases of coca-cola for all the kids. Mr. B's stories are amazing. I told him that he should write a book, he just let out a belly laugh and said no one would believe it.

Monday, July18th, 1977 Washington, D.C.

We made it back to Bowie late last night, we hung out at the tournament until the last afternoon matches, then we had dinner in Georgetown, then called Mark’s uncle to pick us up. We were exhausted and went straight to bed…but talked an hour in the dark about the players we had watched.

I think of all the players I was most impressed with Dibbs and Solomon…they seem to have less to work with. Neither looks athletic but I understand Dibbs was a boxer at one time. Both are short but very fast, both are so accurate with their groundstrokes. Dibbs was eating Raul Ramirez up, even though Ramirez has amazing shots, he is a very smooth player, but the deep shots on the baseline forced him into errors.

We got up early and read the Washington Post, the sports page had all the results and excellent feature stories on the players, its perfect reading with the cold cereal. Sandy and I had at least 3 bowls a piece! Its going to be humid and hot today. We’re supposed to meet Mr. B and the camp buses at 10:30.

It’s 10:30 pm now and Im back in Mercersburg. Former Camper Marie Reagan picked us up and drove us to Rock Creek in her VW convertible. We got there just as the bus pulled in, we had the tickets and passed them out. Mr. B asked us how we liked the box seats and we told them all about the cool matches we watched. He invited me to sit in the box in the afternoon and we sat through a match but when the temps reached above the 90 mark Mr. B. packed up and headed back to Mercersburg. I got to stay in the box the rest of the afternoon and watched Raul Ramirez carve up Jeff Austin from UCLA. Then we watched Bernie Mitton play Ricardo Cano of Argentina. Cano moonballed him every single shot and easily beat him.

I’m very surprised by all the drop shots and lobs, on this green clay the easiest pattern to hit into is the deep short pattern and everyone was using it, the hard hitters are at a huge disadvantage here. We went over to a side court and watched that kid from Long Island play. McEnroe although just 18 is so good its as if he’s toying with people. He passes with ease, his lobs are deadly, I have never seen volleys like this and a serve that breaks both ways. I was so impressed.

I have a horrible sore throat and am very tired, I think all the excitement and travel has worn me out and worse yet I have to work tomorrow! We have a whole new crop of campers that we have yet to meet. Mr. B came by a while ago and wants me to help out with the video taping tomorrow. So I have something to look forward to, Kunz will tape until 10:30 and then I get to run the camera until noon. This is by far the best job because I get to shoot video while Mr. B tells stories and I know he will have a lot to say after the Washington Star.

I saw Mr. B talking to Gene Mayer at one point during the tournament. Roger Dickinson was there and got to talk him as well. Roger is from Franklin Lakes and Gene and the Mayers are local heros. Roger was telling me that he knows their Dad. Mr. B told me a bunch of interesting stories about their Mr. Meyer, I guess he was the classic tournament father, hard to believe because those boys are so nice, but we can’t choose our parents.

Sunday July 17th, 1977 Washington, D.C.

We sat at the breakfast table in Bowie reading the sports page of the Washington Post. In between bites of Corn Flakes we read all about the Washington Star, who had qualified, who was injured (Connors). There was a story about the local kid doing well…Harold Solomon is from nearby Silver Spring and is ranked in the top 10 of the world. Top ranked Brian Gottfried is here, along with Raul Ramirez…Ive seen all of these guys on TV, I know their games and today I get to see them.


We went to the ticket office and picked up the camp tickets along with our tickets and they gave us the box seats, the lady asked when Mr. B was going to be down because she wants to say hi to him. Everyone knows Mr. B and his juice got us the courtside tickets, they’re treating us like VIP’s and we even got a pass to a hospitality tent!


We got down there at 1:30 and there were a lot of matches going on. I saw Chris Lewis, Jeff Austin, Larry Gottfried, Bruce Manson, Elliot Teltcher, Manuel Laura. While we were watching Larry Gottfried play his brother Brian showed up and sat right next to us. Mark Sanderson got his autograph and I chatted with him like a neighbor over a fence. He asked about us and I told him we were counselors from the Brennan Camp. He told us that he had met Mr. B at the Open a time or two.


At Rock Creek theres a Stadium Court that seats 7-thousand and then 5 outside courts that seat anywhere from a few hundred to a thousand. Then there are 6 practice courts to the side of court 4, all are har-tru synthetic clay and absolutely perfect. We went over there and watched Anand Armataj practicing with Tom Gulikson

. I walked around the tournament almost in a daze.

Harold Solomon was playing on the grandstand court and we sat in the box. He is so short but does amazing things on the court. He can keep the ball on the baseline from anywhere on the court. He wins points off his depth and consistency, he is a backboard and a joy to watch. His serve is adequate but he seldom hit’s a second…almost all first serves but he can move the serve around the box, he can hit the T or the corner at will with good depth.
He played Chris Lewis first round and slaughtered him, he was so hot I think he beat him 2 and 1.

Elliot Teltcher was fun to watch, he has a big backhand and I call him a picker. He picks opponents apart, he doesn’t blow them away with anything he wears them down. I watched him through 2 sets and he I don’t think he made more than a handful of errors. Teltcher is a legend of the junior ranks, Ive heard stories about him for years, his gamesmanship and shot making…he very seldom loses a match, he easily beat Bruce Manson.


Vilas didn’t show at the tournament, he won a tournament in Europe over the weekend and wont be here until Tuesday night…so I wont get to see him in person. He’s been very hot lately and I would love to see him in person. I wish I could have caught Connors as well. Borg is staying in Europe, playing in some tournament in Germany, what a drag.


I walked around the Star with my Adidia’s warmup jacket and a towel around my neck. These little kids asked if I was anyone and I told them I was Eddie Dibbs, and before I knew it I was signing autographs…poor kids, I signed my own name.

Saturday, July 16th, 1977 Mercersburg to DC

I snuck out last night. It all started when there was a rap on the window at 2-am, I was dead asleep and would have ignored it except for the gigles. It was Caroline the CIT, her friends Kristen and Marie along with Tom Vrana and Rick Fanning. We ran through the fields and played a game hide and seek with the security guard. I’m so amazed he didn’t catch us. We all wrapped sheets around us and we ran around like ghosts…from a distance I think the sight would have scared the hell out of anyone. By 3-am we were dog tired and snuck back into bed. I think the girls were expecting a make out session but since two of them were high schoolers; that was out of the question.

I was so tired that I slept through breakfast, Sanderson came in and woke me about 9:30 and we started packing for Washington. We started asking campers for rides, we thought Marie was going to give us ride but they didn’t have any room so asked Jonathan Bartlett, a very good junior player and his very nice family.

We said goodbye to all the campers, I must have had my photo taken a few hundred times. The kids are so great…we attended the chicken barbeque with all the parents and it was fun telling them how great the kids did over the two weeks. There were a few parents from New York City that told us all about the blackout and the scary Son of Sam night. I think they were glad the kids were in PA.

We had a scary incident at the barbeque. I was standing with Mr. B and he was eating his chicken when a bee landed in his food, I stopped him just in time from taking a bite of bee, and he tripped and fell over trying to get away. It turns out that Mr. B is very allergic to bees and had he got stung, it could have been very bad. He has the worst bruise on his elbow and leg but is fine. Ill have to remember to keep him away from bees.

Mr. B is driving all the way back to Upper Saddle River to pick up Terence for camp. He’s looking forward to the drive and seeing Mrs. B again. Hard to believe we have been here 5 weeks already! The corn just beyond the tennis courts is getting high, as Mr. B says when its as high as an elephant’s eye then it time to go home.

At 1pm we loaded up in the Bartlett car and drove to DC and it was a spectacular drive, the trees, the farm land it was amazing…but its very hot. It took us just under an hour and a half to make it to Bowie, Maryland.

The Bartletts dropped us at Mark’s Uncle’s house in a very stylish Washington suburb. The homes were all two story brick and brownstones. We hung out for a while and then Mark’s uncle took us to a club called the Foothills and played tennis from 7 to about 11 under the lights on hardcourts. We met two really cute girls and played mixed, it was fun socializing with them. It‘s a swanky nice club, with 8 indoor courts and its also part of a country club. We called Marie Reagan and she is going to meet us tomorrow at Rock Creek Park, that’s where the Washington Star is played. McEnroe and Solomon have first round matches at 1pm.
We were tired and went to bed, tomorrow should be fun!

Friday July 15th. 1977

Liz went home today, she tearfully said goodbye to everyone, she said she had waited all year to get back to camp but once she got here was sick, she said it just wasn’t fair. Poor thing, I think Prevost said it was mono or something like that. She’ll do much better at home where her mom can take care of her. Its so hard here because she needs someone there all the time and we are so busy teaching and taking care of the kids.


The kids from Hawaii are tearing through the tournament, Jimmy,Keri and Hannah Somerville and Brian Beall are here just to train for the National Clay Courts coming up next week. I don’t think any of the wonder kids lost a match. Mr. B is really high on the kids. Jimmy and Brian made it all the way to semis, until they met Rick Fanning, the camper that is here for the summer, He won the tournament, he has really improved because he hits with Tom Vrana every night. This Hanah Somerville is a Tracy Austin clone, perfect ground strokes, she won the girls tournament and should win the National Clay Courts.


Jimmy Connors is hurt, his left thumb is sprained so he is out of the Washington Star, that means that Vilas is the number one seed and the favorite to win the tournament. Mark and I are leaving on Saturday for Washington and we hope to hang out at the tournament as much as we can. We are working on our plans right now, Mark has relatives in Bowie so hopefully we can stay there.


The Camp dance is tonight, It should be fun. I have to go shower now and get ready. Tom S. wants me there to help Kunz set it up and I also helped arrange for the ice cream and punch. Mr. B is coming by in a few minutes and we are going to the dining Hall to pick up the punch from Peggy. Mr. B is in good spirits because he is driving down to West Virginia to try out a new restaurant.


Its midnight now, the dance was fun, Bevin was distant and for the first time all summer we didn’t dance or even hang out. I wonder what’s up with her? She talked to Mark and he said that she had a phone call from home that really drug her down, So a little distance is expected, she‘s just a little sad, she’ll talk about it when she‘s ready.


I called home but my Mom and Jerry were not there so I talked to my sister Brenda. Sounds like she is having a good summer, she’s so nice to me, but she has her moments. We talked about her accident, she was in a little car wreck but is okay, she banged up her neck, poor thing. I’m a bit homesick tonight, I tried to call Jim Hall to see what he is up do but his Mom said that he was working.


Mark S and I lined up a ride to Washington. I've never been there and I’m excited to see the sights. I went to the bank and got some money, Mr. B got us free tickets and he had a job for me. He gave me a check to pay for the camper tickets so I'll pick them up Sunday so when they arrive they wont have to wait in line. Mr. B got us comp tickets and even a box on Sunday to sit in…courtside! This guy has connections. Ive never seen a pro tennis match, I cant wait!

Thursday, July 14th, 1977--Mercersburg Academy

The day went very well, the kids were working hard because they want to do well in the camper tournament coming up tomorrow. Mr. Brennan talked about competition to the campers how it brings out the best and the worst in people. He said when people can overcome diversity, emotion, the elements its frees them to just win points and amazing things happen. Winning, hes says is a magical thing and ordinary people can do extraordinary things if only they believe in themselves.

We had a lot of phone calls in the morning from parent in the city who wanted to talk to their kids. Most of the kids didn’t know about the blackout so they were not worried, but the parents all had stories to tell, one kid said his parents got stuck in the subway and had to walk from Queens all the way into Manhattan.

I was an Idaho day today, hot, low humidity, very blue skies. It makes me homesick, theres nothing quite like an early afternoon day in Pocatello when the weather’s nice.

In the afternoon the kids played each other, the competition is keen and the kids want to play well tomorrow, this session is now racing to an end. I talked to Bevin and Kenny this afternoon at the net posts, about everything from old movies to which kids will prevail tomorrow.

I played right after work, Im hitting so well. I hit with Feinberg for an hour and matched him stroke for stroke. He is such a great hitting partner because he hit’s a nice deep ball and is very consistent. Kenny is an interesting guy, he can converse about anything, extremely bright and knowledgeable with a funny, witty sense of humor.


Pat and Bevin said something about wanting to get away, so they asked Marc Solomon and I if we wanted to go out to dinner. None of us had duties so went to a fancy restaurant called “Foot of the Mountain.” They have these great appetizers called corn fritters and they were so good. The food was amazing and it was fun to be away from the kids for a night. I had Shrimp and a couple of cokes and ice cream, Bevin had the same and it came to $6.00. I was afraid I wasn’t going to have enough. We hitched hiked there which was kind of funny because the girls wore very nice dresses, we got a ride with a nice family in a station wagon. Marc ate an amazing amount of food for a skinny guy he sure packed it away. Bevin and Pat got lots of stares in the restaurant and its because both were so radiant and beautiful, even the little kids were staring. We had ice cream afterwards and then Tom Sheridan joined us then gave us a ride back to the Academy. Marc and I swept and watered the courts when we got back and as usual I got soaked.

I changed and went to the girls dorm and watched TV until 10, then it was to the second floor of Fowle to watch Roger, Riley and X put together the camper tournament. These guys have so much fun and they take seeding players so seriously. Roger had his liter of coke and his radio blaring, he was listening to a Philly game from who knows where.

The Blackout is all over the headlines and lead all the newscasts tonight. Im glad I don’t live in a big city, It all makes you appreciate how fragile civilization is, a power outage and we are right back in the Dark Ages.

I guess the most chilling part of the blackout is the fact that Son of Sam is still loose, I don’t know how you can go out into the streets of New York with a lunatic on the run. The killings have been going on all summer and there's no way I would set foot in New York.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 13th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

There are times when the mornings drag and its an eternity to lunch. We all love Forde Hall with its beautiful long tables and its high ceilings, I even like the cafeteria people, especially the guy that looks Cheslock in “Cuckoo’s Nest”. He watches the pudding like a hawk and its imposible to grab and extra one because he’s right there saying ‘hey buddy, one desert.’ The other guy there looks exactly like the famous Woodstock singer Richie Havens. I keep expecting him to break into the song ‘Here comes the sun’. They are so kind to us and the kids and we are very fond of them.


The morning was cloudy, it was humid and with humidly comes the knats. They chew up the legs and fly into the eyes, there’s also swarms of mosquitoes that are trouble. I always have scabs…and the bugs are bad when its humid.


This is my favorite time of day, 4:15. The work day is over and we can play tennis or take a nap, or read, this is the magical time of day. I decided not to play today because I need a break…I am have lost so many close matches, I think its all focus…I need to play each set like it’s my last. I get too far ahead of myself, I dig in too late. I need to take the initiative early…play with the lead instead of catch up all the time.


Mr. Brennan had a great lecture today about excuses. He said that we should never make excuses, he said “Don’t make up excuses to lose, think of excuses to win.” Very wise words. Often a player will be close to an upset and Mr. B says they will talk themselves right out of the match because they are more afraid of winning than losing. Excuses get you no where…
Liz was violently ill last night, shes been sick for more than two weeks straight and tonight the girl counselors took her Dr. Prevost at the infirmary. He was very put out, he didn’t want to open up and treat her. Liz turned hysterical, it was a huge scene and Mr. B intervened and called her parents and when she is able she is going back to Florida. it’s a sad situation.


Mark and I went up to the third floor, the maintance crews still have not cleaned out the rooms and they are a treasure trove of books, decorations, and junk destined for the garbage. We found some curtains to put in our room and needed them badly. We also found some cool posters, including a great one of Illie Nastase. We keep our room very neat and its comfortable. We have our radios and photos from home. This is a great life and this summer will be over soon and that is sad to think about right now. At home I lived in a small apartment with my Dad during the first semester. He and my mom had split and he moved out into this dingy apartment. I moved in with him just to keep an eye on him. I slept on a couch for a long time, then I moved to a great house just a few blocks East of the campus with Duane Stotland and Bonnie, Cathy and Debi. We called the place the ‘halfway house’ because so many of us lived there. It was nice but not as comfortable as this dorm.


I just talked to Mr. B and he was thinking out loud, he is now short a counselor and is going to bring in a CIT to take the open slot when Liz leaves, He knows this kid from Northern N.J that he can bring in. I think the kid will work out, we are all sad about the Liz situation.



Its now bed time, we just put all the kids in bed, we are all so tired but we had a little meeting with Sheridan, he told everyone why Liz is going home and that everyone will have to pick up the slack. Some of the counselors have been going downtown for beers after lights out, he said that has to stop. Other than that the camp has been running smoothly and Mr. B is happy.

A while ago I called Mom collect, it was great talking to her and she and Jerry miss me. I also talked to my sisters, Brenda and Tamy. I miss them and I cant wait to get home. My sister Tamy just graduated and my other sister will be a Junior at Poky High. They are growing up so fast and Tamy will join me in the fall at ISU.

After the phone call I went into the Lobby to see what was happening, everyone was gathered around the TV and watching the great blackout in NYC. The networks were covering it live and there were reports of looting and people stuck in elevators and babies born in cars and murders. Absolutely crazy stuff. The news showed some clips from looters in Crown Heights, then the fires on Broadway in Manhattan, I can’t imagine being a fireman in that mess, thousands of people are being arrested. The Mets were losing to the Cubs in Shea 2-1 when the stadium went dark. Its now past midnight and the madness continues…I hope our power doesn’t go out.

Tuesday July 12, 1977

It was a good morning, the series of storms that have pounded us have cleared and we are back to hot, clear days. The morning really flew by past, we worked on backhands with the campers, in the demos Mr. B showed the one and two hander. All the Borg-Connors clones use two, I would say over half of all campers use the two hander. I think you give up too much reach with the two handed backhand, and its very hard to hit underspin. I like the one handed stroke but if I have a player that’s doing a good job with the two-hander I’m not going to change it, I will help them make it better.


After lunch I took a little nap before we gathered up our dirty clothes for the trip to the laundry. Its about a four block walk, I have a big laundry bag that I can put clothes in, This laundry mat is expensive .50 cents to wash and .25 cents to dry. So, I got three dollars in change and leaves me enough money to buy a coke too.


The walk through Mercersburg was fun, I love looking at the houses, they are so ancient and this is such a beautiful town. Bevin chatted the whole time, most of the talk is about her sisters and Dad, about school and her classes. She told me all about her home outside of Philly, a place called Haverford. When we got to the place it was reading time, Bevin is reading the book ‘Valley of the Dolls.‘ I’m still reading Farewell to Arms, and Im at the part where Catherine dies in childbirth. I’m really into Hemingway.


We finished folding and then walked back to the Academy. I didn’t feel like sitting the dorm the rest of the day so I walked downtown to the Fredrick Library and just hung out and read all the magazines and newspapers, then found some great picture books to leaf through. One book had all the photos of Mathew Brady…to think that this was where the war was fought…being so close to Chambersburg, Antedium, Gettysburg. The photos were amazing. I made it back to the Dining Hall just in time to eat.


After dinner I had another counselor tournament match, this time I played Roger Dickinson. We ran each other into the ground, it was a battle and I had the edge down the stretch but he tied it up at 8-8. We played a tiebreaker and he pulled it out 9-8. There were no bad line calls, no controversy, just steady tennis. I have to hand it to him he played well with a deadly topspin lob. Rogers forehand is very steady and he hits it deep, he has a just one weakness, he hits short off his backhand side, I needed to attack off that side but didn’t think of that until it was too late. The match lasted neary 3 hours and we both lost a lot of water, I’ve downed at least a gallon of water tonight, I’m pleasantly tired, I feel good because I played good, I’ve had a bunch of close matches lately, I’m closer to figuring it all out.


Mark and I planning a weekend trip to Washington, D.C. for our only weekend off. It should be fun because on Saturday the Washington Star Tennis tournament gets underway. We plan on attending Sunday and then join the rest of the camp there on Monday. Mr. B rented buses and we’re taking 86 campers. I have never seen a pro tennis match, I cant wait to see how they hit. Mark and I are very excited. The Washington Post reported today that Villas is the number one seed with Brian Godfrey, Raul Ramirez, Eddie Dibbs and Harold Solomon are all scheduled to play.

Monday, July 11th, 1977

It was a tough day, we woke up to dark foggy, morning with mist, the sky was dark gray…again we headed into the gym. Mr. B sent Roger, Riley and I to the hardcourts to try and get them playable, puddles were everywhere and just as the courts became playable it started to rain.


I noticed a big berry bush outside the courts, a mulberry bush and its branches were heavy with dark berries. Dr. Prevost from the infirmary came walking by and I asked him if it was okay to eat the berries, he said they were safe but in the future refrain from eating anything red in the wild. We picked at least a quart a piece, the berries were so ripe and sweet. I think our purple lips gave us away when we returned to the gym.


Inside it was two counselors to a court and a massive round of 'around the world' with the kids starting from one end and rotating to the far end of the court. So a camper running the gauntlet would get 16 running forehands and then would have to sidestep or run around the backside dodging balls. At least one kid per session get beaned, and at least a counselor or two, it’s great exercise, good practice but very tiring. Its also very loud. The kids were so exhausted that we played volleyball in the afternoon, the sky was the darkest gray I have every seen, almost eerie, the volleyball was a welcome treat and the kids loved it.


After dinner the rain quit and the clay courts were playable. I played Tom Vrana in singles, again he had me down 7-1, but I came back losing 8-6 in a very close match. I had the adrenaline pumping and while Tom attacked early, I started attacking and kept him at the baseline and stole momentum. At one point the pulled me off the court and I ran down a ball into the next court, dove for it, hit a high lob and he missed the overhead. What a way to win a point! Had I started attacking I would have beaten him. I was just a point from evening the match at 7-7. Tom V. is a very gracious winner and admitted that he had chocked and was lucky to pull out the match, he complemented me and made me feel better about the defeat, that was very classy.


Mr. B says over and over again that the breaks go the person that’s hustling, digging and trying the hardest. Mr. B says nice players seldom win, you have to have a bit of hostility to win, but Mr. B says take it out on the ball not your opponent. He told me once of watching a Rod Laver match once at Forrest Hills. He said the Laver lost the first set 6-1 and he could tell that Laver was upset, said his face was red as beet. He said that Laver took the court in the second set with an incredible amount of hostility. He punished the ball with that menacing forehand and Mr. B said the guy Laver was playing wasn’t even there, Laver was so pissed off at the ball. In the end Laver won the next three sets easily with a bagel in the fourth. I love that story.


Mr. B also talks about the concept of blood in the water. He says that when BJK plays she plays with the hopes of getting blood in the water. The concept works like this…in a set there’s a turning point. Both players can hold early and usually do but at 3-3 BJK would step it up and go all out for the break by attacking the second serve, once she got the break at 4-3 she serves. BJK seldom losses her serve, so she’s up 5-3. When BJK hit’s the magic number---5 games Mr. B says she’s a shark with blood in the water. She senses the blood and moves in for the kill…he calls it a ruthless but humane kill. I will never forget this story. Because for the first time he gave us a glimpse into BJK's thought make up and one of the great tennis minds. Mr. B says the other girls on the tour know that if BJK pulls ahead they don’t have a chance because she’s so relentless with her attacking game, many just fold. That's why BJK is perhaps the greatest to ever play the game.


I’m sitting here at my desk contemplating my match, I need to just hang with these players and then go for the break and the kill. Im just now getting used to clay, I need to focus more so I don’t get tight in a match. This tennis is so complex, it’s the hardest sport in the world to master, it’s a running chess game and its hard to make decisions when your head is pounding and pulse racing. I know golf is hard, there too you have to have concentration, tennis is much harder because you have stay in a high level of concentration while at the same time you’re running your ass off. If you can keep your head, while those around you are losing theirs….


I have no clean clothes, everything stinks to high hell. Mark Sanderson is in the same boat so our first order of business is to do laundry. I just got back from the girls dorm, Bevin and I sat and listened to Lenny Saks play the piano for about an hour, this guy is really amazing. We had our own concert and it was simply perfect.


Bevin needs to do laundry too and the three of us are off tomorrow afternoon so we will all walk to the laundrimat and tackle this mountain of moldy-sweaty clothes.

Sunday, July 10th 1977, Mercersburg, Academy

Tom S asked me to drive some of the kids to church. So Becky Craft, Lenny Saks and I took 11 kids to the Catholic Church downtown and attended the service. It’s very interesting because much of the service was in latin, I was so lost and spent a lot of time kneeling and getting up and shaking hands and I must have looked like the village idiot because I kept getting blindsided by the movement and motion. The church was very old and beautiful, lots of stained glass and icons, it was a good time. After church we stopped for ice cream and all the kids loved that. We made it back to camp at 11:30, I changed clothes and soon it was time for lunch.

In the dining hall I spotted Roger Dickinson and I pulled up a chair and we talked baseball. The all-star game is coming up and we agree that the American League is going to kick ass this year because they’re heavy with good hitters like Carew, Brett, Yaz and Reggie Jackson, but Roger argued that it wont be easy becaue the the NL has Sutton and is loaded with other great pitchers, Roger is bummed because the only Ranger that will play is Bert Campaneris. Anyway we were sitting there and Roger bet a camper that the AL would easily win…so we will see.

After lunch Bevin and I played Mark and Becky. On paper they should have won, they have better serves and better returns, but Bevin and I dug in, hit a bunch of service return lobs that split them and got em off the net. We played relaxed and we joked around a lot. I worked on making sure that I was thinking two shots ahead of each shot. In the end we won 7-5, I stretched out the back of my knee sliding but it’s okay now.

Later I played Bobby Dickinson in the second counselor tournament, he had me down 7-1 but I came back and won 5 straight games before he pulled out a 8-6 win. I had him running. I wish I had hit short angles early in the match…he didn’t handle the mouse traps I set for him. Mouse traps are short angle drop shots and cross court lobs and they worked like a charm. There’s no way I can stroke with the guy from the baseline so I have to give him junk.

After dinner Tom Sheridan and I had to get out and away from the dorms and the sound of slamming doors and kids, so we drove over to McConnellsburg. It was fun doing something out of the normal like going for a drive, we went to a diner and ordered corn fritters and cokes, we talked about the U of G and his frat and it sounds like those Georgia guys party down! We got back in time to put the kids to bed. When I got back Roger was in the upstairs lounge listening to a baseball game and arguing with Feinberg and Solomon about….baseball. Xavier was in the corner with his practice pads drumming away. Tom Vrana and the camper Rick were listening to Springsteen music, If I hear Born to Run one more time I will go insane. I love the song but they have taken it to another level,They never seem to tire of that song and the Thunder Road song.

Mark was reading when I got in, he was happy because he won his counselor tournament match against Andy Greenspan. He said his serve was on…I wish I was 6’4.…like him I would crush the ball…5’8 doesn’t cut it.

Saturday, July9th 1977 Mercersburg Academy

What a great morning to catch an early breakfast in Forde Hall, then walk across plush lawns to the beautifully maintained courts for a few sets of tennis?

Xavier Combe from Paris asked if I wanted to play and I readily agreed because he is a clay court specialist. He is graceful with classic ground strokes and on this surface he can mix it up with anyone here. In Paris that’s all he plays on, he says the red clay is much slower and have to be steady to survive the long rallies. I took the initiative in the match, by hitting short angles and drop shots to take control and I had him running around pretty good, but then he started attacking my forehand with short angled cross court shots of his own. I started missing, a few shots at first to make me bleed, then the hemorrhage started. We got into 5 ball rallies and then he'd throw in the short cross court forehand and I'd hit it long or in the net.


I lost confidence in the forehand and the match losing 4-6, 6-3, 6-4. Despite the defeat it was a fun match, X is such an even tempered guy. He doesn’t say much but when he does it's something you can use, and dwell on. We were changing sides and he said that I need to trust the forehand and glide into the short balls. He was right ,I was taking too many steps which is good on hard courts but a disaster on clay.


Later we talked all the way back to the dorms, with Bevin it's art, Roger it's baseball, with X it's music. We talked a lot about Eric Burton who X claims is French. I didn’t know that. I think Burton is one of the all time greats, with great lyrics and interesting hooks in his music. X agreed. He's a drummer and asked me who I thought was the greatest drummer of all time, I answered John Bonham of Led Zeppelin, or Keith Moon from the Who. He thought Watts from the Stones was the best in terms of rock, he said Ringo Starr was a terrible technically so we disagreed there. All in all he thought I had a good start but then rattled off a bunch of jazz drummers that I have never heard of, I decided then and there not to challenge X in the field of music. I’ve heard him practice on his pad in his room and he's very impressive. X asked me who I listened to when it came to jazz. I told him Coltrane, Monk, and Davis…again he thought I had a good start.


I love this game. I had a talk with Mr. Brennan yesterday about tennis. He said it's more than a sport, it’s a business tool, it’s a social life, it's a fitness regime, its a running chess game and keeps the mind in shape. But he said most importantly that if you play the game seriously you strive to get better. When you strive to do something you set goals and he says when people quit setting goals they stop living. He said too many people his age quit playing, quit doing anything active at all and they die too soon. FXB said tennis is also part of the great network, you meet good people that trust you and want to do business. He says tennis doesn’t have limits, you can be a great player if that’s what you’re into or you can be a great networker, or a great social butterfly. He said that tennis in terms of rich and poor is classless, and colorless and can lift you he said that on the court you are free of the pressures of work, that youre no longer a too young for too fat, or too slow, no longer this or that. Tennis is the great equalizer claims FXB, where kings and paupers play on equal ground. That it frees you of everything in life that tends to drag one down. I never thought of it but he’s right. In my case Tennis got me to college and got me to this wonderful Tennis camp, theres no telling where it will take me next. Tennis took Mr. B to Camp David and on the court with the President of the United States, hard to imagine that the Patterson boy made it to Camp David to hit with the world’s most powerful man.


I haven’t had mail in two weeks, until today. I had 4 letters…all from that sweet Chris Russell-Vick, how nice is that? The letters were very campish and newsy and I found out more about what the girls have been up to all summer. She told me which girl counselors had crushes on which guy counselors. The letters were funny,cheeful and thoughtful just like the author; Chris Russell-Vick, who is nothing less than a hero in my eyes.


Again, its starting to rain. We were planning on taking the kids to Saunderosa Park, Its almost noon now and Im heading back to Forde Hall for lunch. I hope this rain doesn’t kill the whole day.


I had lunch with that cute Chris in the the fancy dining hall and I imagined we were dining in a London castle. I thanked her for the mail and later asked her about Wimbledon and she told me what its like there, how much fun it is to get a field pass and walk the grounds. She told me about the strawberries and cream and how nasty Nastase really is and how easy it is to spend a day watching tennis with good friends. I hope one day I can see it all.


I just got back from lunch and its still raining, Im listening to WRCV and that great Fleetwood Mac song is on again…Rayana. That’s good music, I wish I had a stero, but its just another luxury a poor college student can't afford.


It's after 11 now, we ended up going to Saunderosa after all but it rained all the way there and it was so dark. Luckily they have a little club house there and everyone was inside listening to the juke box. I talked to Bevin for a couple of hours, she told me about life at William and Mary college, and it sounded good. She told me about the house on the Cape all the while we were wading in the lake, getting soaked by the rain, we didn’t care, good talks with a good friend is more powerful than an umbrella.


A bunch of us walked downtown with the kids to see the movies. I sat with Bevin and on the way home we talked about how movies are mini vacations for the mind, an escape. That’s why I go, to get away, but it was fun getting away with her!


Im looking out the window of my Fowle Hall dormroom, up toward Tippits. All the girls are in bed and its dark. I can see the outline of the trees in the night. With all this rain it smells so fresh. I hope it’s a good day tomorrow because I want to play some more tennis.

Friday, July 8th 1977

It was a spectacular night, at 11:30 I was dead asleep when I woke to a loud crack of thunder and a blinding bolt of lightning that struck a tree out near the highway. It was deafening but the smell was fresh and indescribable. So much for sleep, Mark and I we rode the storm out the rest of the night, sheets of rain came down and we sat out on the porch of Fowle and watched the spectacle, soon other counselors joined us and we talked and watched in wonder. Tom S was there, Roger, John Day, Xavier, Andy Greenspan, Kenny Feinberg. I can’t remember rain like that. At about 1:30 it let up and we were able to go back to sleep. It was so hot and sticky inside but we were exhausted then in a few minutes morning broke.

The sun rose clear but it was too wet to roll the courts, the hard courts were unplayable too, we ended up in the gym for the first two hours. Thank god for Mr. B’s stories, he talked nearly an hour about the pro tour, about Billie. I heard stories I hadn’t heard before. He told us about the early days, when she was in High School and how she used to come to Upper Saddle River every summer. He said that she came to train and play in the big USTLA tournaments. He said she was up early in the mornings and had breakfast with the Brennan clan, that she was one of the kids. Then she was out on the road, just like a boxer, jogging to the courts. Mr. B would then have her hit with two guys at the net, sometimes Frank Jr. in the later college years, Larry King. FXB says it was modeled after Harry Hopman’s successful training routine that he used on his Australian Davis Cup team. The guys would stand at the net and hit ball after ball to the corners while BJK scrambled to get balls back, this lasted for a couple of hours. He said she ran ladders on the courts, jump roped, sprint intervals, and said no worked harder than Billie. It was an amazing insight.

FXB said that in those days there was no money in tennis, that all BJK had was a clothing and racquet contract. When Coleen Brennan was here during the Adult session she was wearing a Fred Perry shirt embroidered with the initials BJK. I asked Coleen about the shirt and she says they still have a stack of BJK clothing around the house, a reminder of the days when there was no money in tennis, Mr. B called it bullshit shamatuerism with contempt.

I remember the first time I heard about BJK, it was in grade school when she won Wimbledon doubles, I read the story in the Weekly Reader Newspaper back in first grade. Women sports heros were rare that it was a novelty . I remember later, must have been 5th or 6th grade when she won the singles title and I caught that match on TV and read about it in the Idaho State Journal. I was fascinated by her. She had drive and determination and you knew that she was going to win, kind of the woman’s equivalent to Laver. She was the only woman athlete that when we played tennis handball against the wall at Whittier Elementary, we would pretend we were her. I wish I would have started tennis back then. I wanted to but it was impossible because we didn’t even have pavement anywhere near our farm house, so it was baseball and football until junior high.

We finally made it outside at 11:00, the courts were freshly rolled and it was humid and hot but anything is better than being in the gym. We worked on serves and overheads and the kids were into it. In the afternoon it was match play and all the counselors were worn out after the late night, the gym and the humidity. As soon as Dickinson called ‘balls in’ and we walked the perimeter and got the balls up, we ran back to the dorms to take a nap. I slept almost till dinner time.

We had a dance tonight and the kids had a great time. I danced almost all night with Bevin, she is so kind because she didn’t say a thing about my dancing. I am the worst, the very worst dancer of all time. We played matchmaker and got the little boys and girls out there dancing. It was so funny, some of the boys just were not into it, but they loved the ice cream that Mr. B dropped by at 10:00. Bevin is a great dancer and can dance to anything and look good doing it. She is graceful and beautiful and when it was time to go we talked art and who we liked and disliked, I walked her back to the dorm and I helped round up all the girls, and helped get them to bed, afterwards Bevin gave me a nice hug at the door and all is right with the world.

Thursday July 7th, 1977

Sandy was talking about the camp counselors, stating that everyone here is very accomplished. He pointed out that everyone played college tennis or were high school super stars. I agree but think he’s feeling sorry for me because I’m struggling so badly. There are players from Iona College, Rutgers, Harvard/Wellsley, Georgia, Idaho State, John Hopkins, Plymouth, York, Holyoke. GW, its no wonder it’s so hard to win a match. I think the East Coast players have the edge because they’re used to playing on clay and in this humidity.


Every day between 10:30 and 11:00 is a magical time, that’s when Mr. B shows up at the courts with the mail. He climbs from the station wagon with brown-wrapped packages, letters of all sizes and for homesick campers and counselors and it’s a beautiful sight. Mail is nothing new for Mr. B, he told me a while back that he worked in the APO post office in San Francisco during the war, sending and sorting Navy V-mail. He said it was the dream war time job because he got to live in a hotel by the Bay and didn’t have to worry about dodging bullets.


We run to the water fountain during the morning break to check the stack of mail. Mental mail inventory is taken to see who is getting what from whom. Mr. B neatly sorts the mail near the water fountain under the giant oak tree but in a matter of minutes its scattered. On this day I had high hopes of getting a letter because I’ve written to everyone I know, including the Dean of Students at ISU…but nothing….only two letters in the past month.


I was sullen the rest of the morning. I told Chris Russell-Vick about it because she always gets a stack of mail, I asked her secret she says she writes everyone in her family at least once a week, she says that seldom a night passes that she isn’t writing someone. I’m so bummed. Cathy Davidson gets a lot of mail from Massachusetts, as does Mark. Bevin gets tons of mail from the parents, brothers and sisters. Riley does well too from Scotland. Roger and Bobby never get mail, unless its from a camper. Roger got a letter from Billy Sigmon, the 12 year old from last session sent him a 5-dollar bill, payment of all the cokes he lost on Roger’s hard court. Funny how mail is such a validation and at the same time a status thing here.


This has been a very difficult session because of the heat. Tom had a meeting last night in his room and said that we were getting lazy in the afternoon and we need to stay on the court to supervise the matches and coach the kids. Some counselors and sneaking off to the shade, Mr. B drove by and only two counselors were on court, Tom got chewed out for that. Tom said they are going to allow more water breaks but we need to make an effort to stay out and work otherwise day offs will be taken away. I think that woke a few people up. Also we’ve lost an astonishing number of balls and Mr. B wants Sandy and I to take over ball duty. We don’t mind, I think its relaxing to walk the perimeter of the courts and pick up balls.


We took the kids to Chapel night or Bells as we call it. We take the kids up the narrow staircase up to the gothic bell tower to watch Bryan Barker play. Bryan has a wonderful old english accent and an artist with an artist touch, he puts on a show and tower is his stage. This is his Carnegie Hall and its worth it. He is an entertainer plus its an inspiring sight, an 80 year old, pounding on the keyboards, playing Back and Beethoven and then giving an eloquent speech with quotes from Shelly and Keats. Bryan wears a headband when he plays to keep the sweat out of his eys and he pounds the keyboard with incredible energy and passion. He starts every performance with a Keat‘s quote “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Then its back to the carillion. Brian pounds on the keyboard with pads on his hands crafted from tire tread, he works up quite a sweat and the kids sit transformed. Its so nice to look from the tower out on the greenfields of the campus and of course the inspiring music of Ludwig Van!

Wednesday July 6th, 1977

The heat wave continues and last night it was like sleeping in a blast furnace and tough sleeping. The sheets get wet from sweat and humidity and dont dry. My hair was wet and matted and never dried. WRCV FM said that it was 85-degrees at midnight! It was up to 97 this afternoon, that’s nothing in Idaho but when you consider humidity into the high 80’s it's unbearable.


Mr. B. talked for a long time today. He said on a tennis court you have many fights the opponet, the heat, the wind, bad breaks, the sun,horrible line calls and few can win against those odds and elements. Instead Mr. B says its smart to team up with a few of the elements to level the playing field. How hard is it, reasoned FXB to figure out which way the wind blows and use that when lobbing or hitting drop shots, to pay attention to the sun and put a lob or two up. Heat can be managed by being prepared, conserving energy and making the opponent run. As far as breaks, breaks go to the person that’s digging in and working the hardest. Line calls can be managed by calling lines as tight as your opponet. In the extreme heat of morning Mr. B was cool and refreshed and the lecture was perfect for the occasion.


At 11-am Mr. B came to my court and said he needed me. Tom S. found someone to take my court and I climbed into the station wagon. We headed toward the Chapel and I asked what was up. FXB said he needed me to take a look at Brian Barker’s TV set. I'm studying video and documentary film production at Idaho State and know a lot about video so I was the best candidate. Bryan plays the carillion bells in the Chapel tower and plays wonderfully. Mr. B. says he’s been here since the 20’s and just recently celebrated his 50th anniversary at the Academy. Bryan’s white hair and blue eyes gives him a regal look. He lives in a nice brick home a couple of blocks from the chapel.


Bryan greeted us at the door and I checked out the television set. I spotted the problem right off, the antenna wire in the back was disconnected. I reattached it, turned on the TV and Bryan was happy. He asked Mr. B if we could stay for tea, he had the tea boiling and pot was whistling. Brian had a fancy tea service with cakes and cloth napkins. I could tell that Mr. B was more than amused. We had a cup and listened to Brian’s lovely, formal English accent and the tea was green and strong like my grandmother's. Brian went off on a story from the old days and I was reminded of the great old book‘ Goodbye Mr. Chips”.


In the car Mr. B says that Bryan disconnects the television set a few times a summer and he's called upon to come and ‘fix’ it. He brought me along just so he could say that ‘Jake has to get back to work.’ Mr. B says that sometimes Bryan has more than tea in the cup with a wink. FXB thinks he's just a lonely guy. At that moment I thought ole FXB was a softie, playing the visit game, I was glad to ‘help’ Bryan and honored to be a guest.


We drove past the beautiful gothic chapel, past the tree lined streets to my dorm then to the Dining Hall. FXB said I did such a great job that the job is mine for the rest of the summer. I thanked him and both rolled our eyes.


The afternoon was brutal on court. We stood in the sun for 3 hours and I downed at least a gallon of water. We kept the little kids in the shade and watched the others closely to make sure none of them got heat stroke. We kept on them to make sure they were drinking water. We still had three go to Dr. Prevost at the infirmary. Prevost then came to the courts and told Mr. B. he was worried about the heat, so we sent the smaller kids to the pool.


I went swimming at 4 and that helped …then I took a nap until dinner time. I m so scorched, sunburned and bleached, I hope it rains soon, the heat is killing me.
I finished reading the Fitzgerald book and started in on Hemingway’s Farewell to Arms, its an amazing read. Im facinated with him, he used to live in Idaho and I've adopted him as a hero.


On the third floor of Fowle Hall there's a stack of books 3 feet tall all destined for the trash bin. I found 20 classics and that’s my reading list for the summer…everything from Hardy and Keats to beloved Hemingway and Steinbeck and this new guy Wallace Stegner. What a find,I love the books and my reading time.

Tuesday July 5th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

Morning broke early, too early. I woke up just in time to make it to the Dining Hall. On days like this I slip on the adidias warm-up and call it good. I set a new Sugar Pops record, 6 boxes and at least a pitcher of milk! I was so hungry.

Everyone that went to Saint Thomas the night before compared notes, there were three groups and everyone split up. Some went on rides, others ate, while still others drank beer. When the fireworkds started we stood at the edge of a wheat field and under an orange moon the fireworks burst across the sky. It was so bloody hot but we had a great time and we all thanked FXB for the chance to get away.

I’m was so tired that I could hardly move, thank god FXB's lecure was a bit long this morning. It was good recovery time and once I got moving the weariness fell away. We worked on the looping forehand this morning and I had a good group so it went fast. In the afternoon as luck would have it, was my day off. I took a huge nap and feel better. At mail call I had a surprise, my Dad sent me a card, he never writes let alone a card. I think I’m going to frame it, it means that much to me. He’s not exactly a Hallmark kind of guy.

I was telling Mr. B that my Dad is blue collar all the way. He takes his lunch to work each day in a lunch pail. Sometimes his hands get so dirty that they never come clean. But I wouldn’t trade him, he’s a good guy, honest and smart and he likes to have his fun. When not working construction he trains quarter horses and drinks beer. He’s very good at both. One afternoon at the net post I told Mr. B all about my life in Idaho and how it was'nt close to the Country Club life. He said I wasnt missing much and that not many kids get to grow up on a farm and said I was lucky to be away from all that city pavement. He told me all about growing up in Patterson, N.J.; there were some interesting stories there.

I gave a camper tour of the Buchanan cabin just down the road from Fowle Hall. I had done a lot of studying up and I told them all about the President’s life, his Presidency and the kids were impressed.Thank god for the Fredrick Library on Main Street, they have a good collection and theres another great reference on campus the wrestling coach doubles as a history teacher, he taught me me a lot over dinner one night.

I was a nervous wreck all day, I had a match to play and the pressure was killing me.
In the consolation bracket of the Counselor tournament I had to play Jude-Marie from Washington D.C. A loss would forever scar my guy confidence...that's pressure.

First of all she showed up looking like a Vogue model, she is very stunning with long blond hair, and perfect cheekbones, but not that friendly, she came to play. Once we got going I had to fight for my life because rather than hitting away from me she kept the ball in play and on the baseline. She made me hit 6 backhands in a row to win a point. She also held her serve so it was tough. But I figured it out…I made her run. I hit cross-court drop shots followed by lobs and once I got her winded it was over. I won 8-6. After that Chris Russell-Vick and I played her and Tom Vrana in mixed. We lost 7-6 but we kept them off balance with the lobs. Both players really smack the ball. Chris is a wonderful player that seldom makes mistakes. In the previous round she beat Jude easily with her all-court game. Thank God I didn’t have to play Chris!

Afterwards I showered and walked down to Wises’. I drank a half gallon of water and three cokes. It was 93-degrees during the match, In Idaho that translates to 103! There is no escaping the heat, we don’t have AC in the dorms, we don’t even have fans. You lay there and just sweat. Its very hard to sleep, I hope this heat wave breaks soon. I’ve never felt heat like this before. I just heard on WRCV that its 92-degrees and its 10:30 pm. In Idaho you can always count on it to cool off at night.

Then there's the poison oak. I went up to the hard courts to relieve counselors this morning for water breaks. I got hit in the calf with a ball; now I have the perfect infected outline of that ball on the leg thanks to poison oak. The oak gets in the felt when the balls roll to the corner of the court. Three campers have poison oak as well and Mr. B dispatched Academy maintainance to the hard courts to kill the oak. The only solution is calamine lotion. It's 11:15, Im sweating, Im reading finishing up Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night and I’m so miserable.

Monday July 4th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

More details emerge from Mr. Brennan’s amazing weekend at Camp David. He said they had dinner in the Main Lodge at 7:30, it was just the Carters, Caron and Amy. He said they joined hands and Mrs. Carter said grace. Mr. B said he sat between the President and Chip's wife Caron. After dining on barbequed ribs it was movie time. They watched the Mel Book’s film Silent Movie, which isn’t in the local theaters yet. Mr. B adore the movie and then turned in---he stayed in the lodge across the way, a nice set up he said with two bedrooms. He said that he couldn’t believe where he was and that he had an overwhelming urge to call everyone he knew…but he only called Mrs. B. He is very respectful of the First Families privacy. FXB got a wake up call from a White House Operator at 6-am, he and the President were out on the courts by 6:30 and under the watchful eye of the Secret Service Presidential detail. Mr. B’s says the President is an early riser just like him, so the early morning was perfect. They played for a little more than a hour and then had breakfast in the Main Lodge with Mrs. Carter and Amy,Mr. B then drove home.


Even though it’s the 4th of July we all had to work today and it was a long, hot day. We video taped all 102 campers. Kunz ran the camera, and I fed balls, this was a major honor because usually Eric Riley feeds or so I thought…feeding is very hard and tiring. It occurs to me now that I had been had, that feeding the ball to the hitter on tape is grunt work. But I enjoyed it because FXB was there and he's in great spirits and was full of stories and details from the weekend.


I had asked Mr. B a question about Connors and he went off on a 45 minute story about Bill Rioridan and Gloria Connors and the rise of Jimmy from the juniors, what an amazing story. Connors was a blue collar kid blessed with the big four as FXB calls it: Ability,Hostility, Mobility and Agility, these are the keys to success. He stressed to me that nice people seldom make it to the top because they lack the fire and desire, the fear of losing is the coal that turns a player into a diamond; he said BJK was a diamond and Connors. That was just one of many stories. I should write them all down, they’re priceless.


After balls in at 4:00 Mark and I played Andy Greenspan and John Day, we were on fire and everyone held serve at 5-5 we ran out of time and had to run to the Dining Hall, afterwards we walked to Laundry Mat and washed out our whites. We're both dangerously low on clean clothes. In fact we were down to the sniff test in the morning, sniffing to see which clothes stunk the least. Its disgusting.


We have another 100 kids and they’re a handful. There's a lot of high school girls and boys and I can tell its going to be trouble, we will have to keep a close eye on them all. There is one kid here that no mater what comes out of his mouth, its hilarious. Robert London, Oh my god. His timing and sense of satire are razor sharp.

Mr. B ordered us all to go out and have a good time tonight. He and a few counselors stayed behind and got the kids in bed, the rest of us drove to St. Thomas which is just east of here. They not only had a great fireworkds display but a fair with lots of funnel cake to boot! I wondered why so many people were missing teeth...its the powder sugar on the cake! It was an amazing good time. Bevin joined Sandy, Tom and I in his car and we sat in the back. We talked all the way there and all the way back, did I mention that she looked absolutely stunning! Rivaling that is an amazing sweetness behind blue eyes. I was not very suave, I didn't hide my interest, I must have looked like a puppy, but at the end of the night I got a kiss on the cheek. Mark Sanderson thinks I’m a total spaz.


As I write, the window is open and Im looking out across the campus toward the Highway. Under the moon it's so light, it smells like grass and the crickets are loud. Mark is in the bunk across the room and is already snoring. Its 1:30 and I have to teach on what could be the hottest day of the year…

Sunday, July 3rd, 1977

While watching Wimbledon on Friday in Mr. B's apartment the phone rang. Ive been there a few times when Frank Jr. called and always enjoyed listening in as the two Brennans compared Camp notes, but this day it was different. Mr. B's eyes were wide--It was the White House calling. Specifically it was the President's appointment secretary asking if he was free over the weekend. As it turned out the President wanted Mr.Brennan to come to Camp David and give the First Lady a tennis lesson. I've been sworn to secrecy until now. I didnt even dare write this in the diary.

This was how it unfolded; On Saturday he drove Camp David some 30 miles from the Academy. He went to an unmarked gate and got out of the car while they searched it, they ran mirrors underneath, dogs sniffed inside and told me that uniformed and plain clothes agents were everywhere. The uniformed agents opened his hood and looked inside, 20 minutes later he was driving up to the Main Lodge at Camp David. There he met with Secret Service agents who briefed him on decorum, court location and if he needed anything and importantly how to address the President and First Lady.

Mr. B boarded a golf cart with the President's Aide de Camp, a Marine who drove him to the tennis courts. Mr. B's said they are har-tru just like ours and beautifully rolled and maintained. A few minutes later the President and First Lady arrived in a a golf cart with little Amy and daughter in law, Caron Carter, equiped with racquets.

Introductions were made and at first Amy and Caron hit around a bit with the President, while Mr. B worked with the First Lady. Then the President joined Mr.B and Mrs. Carter. The President retrieved balls and lovingly called the First Lady Ros and Rossi and from time to time cheered her on saying 'Run Rossi, run"! Mr. B said it was very affectionate and cute. Mr. B said everyone wore tennis clothes except the first lady who wore jeans instead. The President wore Fred Perry shorts and shirt and played with a Wilson Jack Kramer racquet. Mr. B said he was impressed at how down to earth the Carters are. He said he had Mrs. Carter hitting well and Amy too, then he got to hit with the President and said he was steady, very mobile with classic form. Mr. B. was invited to spend the night and just got back a while ago.

Meanwhile Mark Sanderson has the fastest serve I have played against, he crushes the ball I can only pick it up off the bounce...that said, I beat him 6-4 after a lucky service break. I did it just by blocking it back deep to the backhand side and pulling him off the court. This is an amazing accomplishment because he's beating everybody and is a much better player.

I just got my mail from yesterday, Mr. B had all the mail and was so busy he forgot to hand it out. My mom sent me three badly needed shirts and a dozen peanut butter cookies. I am in heaven, these cookies are so amazing. Im lucky to have such a great mom, she knows her homesick son all too well.

After checking the campers in, I hit with Bobby Dickinson, I have never got more than 3 games on hard courts, I played him even, but he pulled it out 6-4. He was friendly and we went to Wises and had Ice Cream. We talked about the team and about the season and it was real nice. Everyone here plays on a college tennis team, it was interesting to hear about their seasons and what they went through.

It's almost bedtime and I ran into Mr. B in the Lobby he had a great time and the food was fantastic. He said he was the only guest for dinner and they made him feel like family. He says he sat with the President and chatted a while and mentioned that they really hit it off well. He says the president loves to surround himself with common folk and that he had some friends of Georgia up on Saturday, they didnt talk politics at all, and thought their talk was a mini vacation from the pressures of the office. The President grilled Mr. B about the camp and the kids. Mr. B. told him that all of his kids were campers and they loved the experience. The President says he wants to send Amy to camp next summer, thats the secret that Mr. B is entrusting me with.

Im heading to bed, we have another 100 new campers to teach tomorrow morning...all of this excitement and Im so tired!

Saturday, July 2nd, 1977

The tournament final got underway this morning, both matches wrapped up about 11:30. Then the Volvo stationwagons rolled in, the parents wearing Kaki's and Izod came and gathered their children. The kids are changed, they're confident and tanned, some are taller all a bit more grown up and the parents pick up on it right away.

The parents and their newly aquainted kids sat down at the big barbeque at Forde. They dined on excellent chicken and a great time was had by all. Mr. B talked to just about every parent and beemed the whole time with pride, he was in his element. The parents got to meet the counselors their kids had described in the letters home. Many posed for photos, addresses were exchanged and promises made to stay in touch.

After many hugs I headed back to the dorm lobby to watch the woman’s Wimbledon final. I found this note on my door from Mr. B. I thought of all the things I had done in the past three weeks but figured I was okay so I went to see the boss.


I knocked on the door and Mr. B said 'Wimbledon is just about to start, have a seat.' The TV in the lobby is in black and white, while Mr. B has color, I was in heaven, I was in the company of tennis royalty and we watched the tape delay of the Borg match. We had a great time with Mr. B telling us about the times he had been there, about the time he was there and had a heart attack, which was scary. After a while Riley joined us. I opted for Soda while Riley had a Beck’s beer.

At four we headed to the courts and I played X. He gave me some trouble, but I was able to run him a bit and prevail 7-5. I think watching Wimbledon got me in the right mood, I could have stayed out there all day. I took the second set 6-3.

A bunch of the counselors headed into Haggerstown for dinner and then stopped at the Stateline drive in theatre for a movie. It was classic, four hid in the trunk so there was plenty of left over money for beer. I stayed behind and went downtown for dinner with Mike Kunz and Lenny and afterwards we went to the girls dorm and hung out. It was very relaxing and uneventful. Mr. B went somewhere last night, but Im sworn to secrecy. It's big, real big.

Mercersburg Academy, Friday July1st, 1977

It was at breakfast that I noticed a major mood change. The kids were dressed in their finest, the Borg and Vilas fans were dressed in Fila, the Connors kids were wearing JC clothes, the young Chris Everts were equipped with her Wilson autograph, BJK fans were playing with Bancrofts. Its hilarious. The Borg kids are all wearing headbands and playing with that awful Donnay racquet, they are even walking like him, this is something one has to see to believe.

We were all eating in Forde Hall when Roger Dickinson, X and Riley walked in, X had the draw sheet but he wasn’t sharing it with the kids. It was driving them all crazy with anticipation. The counselors were curious too, but we went on with our breakfast and eventually made it across campus, past the Buchanan Cabin to the courts. Mr. B was leaning up against the station wagon waiting for us. We did the warm up lap and then the boss went into a 30 minute talk on sportsmanship, on desire on excuses. He told them he didn’t want to hear any excuses, that they were to play their hardest and leave the excuses on the court. It was a great talk.

Play began, the bigger kids squared off on the upper clay courts, the little kids on the lower clay courts competition among the kids is great to watch. I brings out the very best and worst in their developing personalities. I love to watch the scrappers, theyre the ones that will do anything just to get a ball back, they don’t have the groundstrokes, just desire, those are the ones destined to win tournaments in their lifetimes.

The tournament favorite is this tall blond kid by the name of Rick. His Dad dropped him off here for the summer and he hits everyday with Tom V. He can beat most of the counselors. And he breezed through the draw and made it into the final.

It was the same thing on the girls side, a few of the older girls, High School players breezed through the draw and will square off in the final.

After the matches were over I played Sanderson, at 6’4 he can hit the ball over a hundred miles an hour, and he was on fire he smoked me 8-1. I never had a chance, that’s the worst beating I have had here, except for the Riley match. I know what to do next time, Ill soften everything up, take away his pace and make him run, then I should be fine.

Last night one of the campers came by and offered me $20.00 for my old Head Master. I readily sold it, probably at a lost because I need some spending money, I was down to my last $5-dollar bill. One of my Jack Kramers is broken, popped a string playing Sandy, so I have just one racquet and I cannot afford to restring it. That $20-dollars should last me a long time.
We had a big Dance starting at 8:30, all the kids and campers were there and it was a lot of fun. Mr B. brought some ice cream and punch by and he hung out for a while and took photos. I think everyone will be sad to see this session end, what a great bunch of kids.

McEnroe's run at Wimbledon is over, he lost to Connors and we were able to watch some of the match in Mr. B's apartment, Borg beat Gerulitis, both were sensational matches.

Its late now and we have to get up to watch the finals and then kids are checking out at 1:00. Parents can show up at anytime and we have a barbeque scheduled on the veranda at Forde Hall. Tom has a few of us on duty tonight to make sure none of the kids sneak out of the dorms. So Sheridan and I are going to walk around campus at midnight, should be spooky!

Thursday, June 30th, 1977, Mercersburg Academy

That McEnroe kid beat Sandy Mayer at Wimbledon! This is a major upset and this morning Mr. Brennan talked about that match and how in tournaments underdogs sneak through the draws because no one expects much because there’s no pressure. He says the underdog plays point by point, doesn’t think far ahead nor dwells on the past. Id love to see this kid play Borg.

This is the final preparation day before the tournament so Mr. Brennan let us teach what ever the campers wanted to work on. On my court we did the serve and service return. Mr. B. says that the most important part of the return is already knowing where you’re going to hit the ball, on fast courts chip and charge especially off the second serve. On clay its deep down the middle, Brennan says just get it back to cut down on errors. When serving its a fluid, slow to fast motion. Mr. B talks a lot about pronation and the whipping towel affect. I love to teach that serve to the kids and really snap the ball. It was a great day on the teaching courts.

As soon as Roger Dickinson got off the courts he went upstairs to the second floor lobby and started working on the camper draw. He had the roll call list all laid out, he went around and asked counselors about the various players. He had his trusty radio at his side and a big liter bottle of coke, Roger was excused for duties, he had the draw to complete.

Xavier will run the tournament, keep the kids on the courts and do results and run the draw sheet. The rest of the counselors will stand at the net posts and call out the score and referee each match. This is a huge production and its done right and the kids are so excited. We’re running a few different divisions so the little kids don’t have to play the big ones, so everyone is happy.

At four o’clock there wasn’t an empty, all the kids were practicing and almost all the counselors were still on the courts helping the kids. Mr. B drove by in the Z and was amazed, I think he’s just as excited. Just before dinner he called me into his apartment, Riley was sitting there having a beer with the boss. Mr. B asked me if I wanted a beer, I hardly drink but I said sure afterall the drinking age in Idaho is 19! We talked for an hour, Mr. B wanted to hear the camp gossip, which kids were players, who to watch. I felt as though I been invited to Buckingham palace, it was so much fun. Then Mr. B talked at length about Wimbledon and McEnroe beating Mayer again, next up Connors, Mr. B says Connors should beat him. I guess he knows Sandy Mayer’s dad, he’s a teaching pro too. Mr. B didn’t have to many kind words for him, but said that Sandy and Gene are swell kids.

I had dorm duty and spent the night writing all my old friends. I wrote my Mom, my Dad, Pam Davies, Jim Hall, Mike Zaladonis. Im hoping that if I write a lot, I will get a lot of mail, Im not a dummy.

After we got the kids in bed we all went to Tibbits Hall and gathered in the Lobby. Roger briefed us on the draw and we were able to get the girls draw done too. Tom had a little meeting and it was fun and exciting. Afterwards I stuck around and talked to Bevin. She's such a sweet girl with the bluest eyes.

Wednesday, June 29th, 1977

After all the rain, the clouds broke and it was a sunny, beautiful morning, but humid. Mr. B had a few of us come down early to help the grounds crew brush the courts and get them ready, there wasn’t much for us to do. The guy with the roller rolled the top courts and they looked good, but the bottom courts were too soft. Mr. B came down and said we may have to double up on the top courts and double up on the hard courts. So he sent a few of us up there to sweep and dry them. There were puddles everywhere but we got it done. X, John Day, Roger D. and I spent a half hour up there. Roger was telling us that he and Bobby were campers here for a few years before he was a counselor.

He told me that he knew Charlie Fenske quite well and said he had boundless energy. As a tennis coach, that was true as well. He ran Bobby and I into the ground last season. He had us work out with the basketball team, we did ladders, the leaper, weight room work outs and the dreaded jump rope…plus the mile and a half run around Bartz Field every night. We were not the best team in the Big Sky, but we were in the best shape. I first met Charlie at the tennis courts last summer. He had just found out that the AD had made him the tennis coach and he was looking for players. I had just finished my High School season and was playing tournaments and we chatted for a while at Reed Gym courts and Charlie asked if I wanted to try out for the team. He said that he would help me with financial aid and get me set up with the ACT and SAT. I was just excited to have a shot. Charlie and I walked to the financial aid office and he was a pro at the paperwork. He said that someday, that he expected me to help someone get into college as payment. I never forgot that (and I did). The athletic department gave Charlie two scholarships and he wanted me to play his recruit later that week.

The guy was from Northern New Jersey, he had long hair and amazing ground strokes, that guy was Bobby Dickinson and he wiped me off the courts 2 and 2 and he was very generous. He played with a lot of anger so we were never were close friends. We took the SAT together and I figured I would blow this guy away but we were both respectable in 1200’s. Bobby told me that his dad was a college professor, that should have automatically put him in the 1300 range, mine was a pipe fitter. Charlie basically told me that I would have to play to play and I had to challenge up to get on the team. I made the fall squad and won all of my matches, I was off to a good start in the spring but we had some tough road trips and we got discouraged and only won 4 or 5 matches. At the same time our spring season was going on, Charlie was on the road coaching the ISU Bengals, he had a grad assistant take over. The Bengals dominated, they were a well coached team and won the conference, then made an amazing run in the NCAA’s. The Bengals upset UCLA in the sweet 16 but lost to UNLV in the elite 8! Charlie and Head Coach Killingsworth were headed to the bigtime, they accepted jobs at Oklahoma State. I helped Charlie pack up and move, as we were packing his car he asked what I was going to do over the summer, I told him that my Dad wanted me to work construction with him, he asked me if I would like to go back east and work at a tennis camp. He lined me up with Mr. B and that’s the last I time I saw him, although he’s called Mr. B a few times to check up on me.

We got the kids going on the top courts with instruction and round the world, we had a bunch up at the hard courts as well by 11:00 Tom Sheridan moved the rest of the kids back to the bottom clay courts.

Mr. B has the campers all excited about the big tournament on Friday. He talked today about winning, how you have to be hungry to win and winners don’t make excuses. He told a great story about how BJK was automatic at 4-4. He said she knew she would prevail, it was like blood in the water. She went for the kill and because she was busy attacking and hitting her shots she didn’t have time to think about chocking. I’m sure Mr. B embellishes a bit, but this guy is a master story teller. The kids were dead silent, counselors too, I could see the wheels turning in the little heads. They were with BJK at Wimbledon as she closed in for the kill, it was one of those moments, inspiring moments that the kids and counselors will remember forever.

After that talk the day went fast, I stayed after 4 and hit with Xavier. I kept him deep in the court and then hit short angles, everything was working. I beat him 6-3, then we stayed a while and played Roger and Feinberg. They beat us 7-5 6-3, but we were in every point.
At Wimbledon this guy John McEnroe from Long Island is making a run through the tournament, hes playing Sandy Mayer from New Jersey who lives near Mr. B. Hopefully we can find a TV set and watch it. Its on HBO and on Friday the matches will be on NBC.

We were hungry at dinner and all ate like horses, they had the best dinner, Pizza, garlic bread and pasta! I am a happy guy, I just got in from field duty, we played Soccer, Riley and Hamilton were there, those guys can play.

Tuesday, June 28th, 1977

It was a bad night, Mark was snoring and woke me up, he’s as loud as those diesel trains on Fredregill Street in Pocatello. The trains roar through there six times a day, Jerry and Mom can tell the time by the train. Anyway, I couldn’t fall back asleep so I stared at the ceiling for a long time and listened to the crickets and watched a thunderstorm blow in from the east. It always rains hard in the summer and it smelled great.

When I went to breakfast I knew the clay courts would be iffy with all the rain. The clouds and the rain led to a feeling of gloom with all the counselors, we all had clouds over our heads because if the courts are not playable its in the gym. With just 6 courts and more than a hundred kids, that means around the world.

When we got to the courts it wasn’t too bad, the maintance guys were rolling the courts and adding hardtru to the puddles and things looked okay. Mr. B gave a speech on the volley and overhead, we had some demos and soon we were teaching. It was going slow because courts 12 and 13 were too wet to play. So that meant that we had a dozen kids per court and every counselor was doubled up. Tom S. walked around and tried to keep the peace. He would step in and give each counselor a break for water, we appreciated that more than he will ever know, it was the chance to regroup and recharge.

We finally made lunch…the balls were trashed from all the moisture…and around 12:30 it started raining again. When we got back down there at 1:00…we herded the kids into the gym and made the best of the situation with around the world. At one point I volley for more than two hours straight. I have the best volley from all the practice. Thank god the afternoon finally ended. Tom S. asked me to be on swim duty and I took the suit and swam with the kids it was refreshing.

The day is over, Im going to bed early. Mark is heading over to the girls dorm with Lenny and they are going to sing. The two make me sick because Mark has a voice and Lenny can play…I cant do either!

Monday, June 27th, 1977

Mondays are always a tough time for tired campers and counselors. Mr. B wants everyone at the courts and ready to go by 8:25. He gets very testy if campers show up late, and indignant if counselors show up late. On this day I think he sensed the fatigue and the long weekend. He had us all run a sidestep lap around the 8 top clay courts. Then all the campers were seated on the courts, many sitting on their racquet covers or racquets, counselors against the fence. We never know what to expect. Mr. B started out on a discourse of the game in general. He says the days of nice country club tennis are over, he says the playground players have high jacked the game back to where it belongs, the public courts. He says gritty players like Connors appeal to the average Joe and people are watching tennis on TV who have never watched before. From there Mr. B gave a fascinating behind the scenes look at Pro tennis. He told us stories from the West Side Tennis club locker room, he evaluated the Pros their strengths and weaknesses. He thinks Connors will stay number one, but that Borg has his number on grass. He says Borg has big problems on hard courts. Mr. B also told us about champions of the past, he saw Tilden play and described his game, he says Tilden could hit hard, but his mastery of the spin and change of pace is what made him a champion. He says he was the first true student of the game….and said that Tilden would fit in the modern game. He says he and Billie worked on changing pace and spin in her game. It was fascinating inside look and the kids hung on every word, when it came to play the kids were brimming with energy.

Tom Vrana and were on the same court. I have hardly talked to the guy this past week, but I have to say that he is pleasant and nice and a great hitter. The kids seem to like him and our morning went very fast.

We worked on the kids forehands and backhands. Mr. B trained us to look at the back swing first, feet second, eyes third…those three things are vital in stroke production. With Brennan’s method we can spot and correct common errors in no time, if we don’t catch it, a wondering Mr. B catches it, so the kids get a very well rounded tennis education…and its more than just hitting, its history and love of the game as well. Brennan has a way of tapping into player passion; he makes the game addictive because he can make a player believe that anything is possible.

I took a nap at noon; I needed it because I was so tired. When I got down to the courts I was very refreshed and ready to go. Sandy and I went a bit early so we could hit. We were the only ones there. I was at the net hitting volleys and Mr. B showed up. I have always had a problem on the backhand side and Mr. B took one look and said you need to turn your shoulder and lean into the ball at contact. He told me to ditch the swing and punch the ball with a bit of under spin, with the weight behind the ball, I was hitting it perfectly. I now have a killer backhand volley.

I went to the Academy Bank and deposited a check from my Mom. I was flat broke and she sent me 25.00. That should last me a long time. I spend the most on pop and ice cream. At some point I’m expecting to break a string, and that should run me about $7.00 dollars. I need a haircut but I have talked Pat into cutting my hair on my day off.

I played Tom Sheridan after work again. This guy has a fantastic forehand and a hard serve. I brought him into the net and tried to pass him, it should have worked but I couldn’t pass him on the forehand side. He put a lot of balls away and his serve was working. He’s a bit unorthodox, but when its working it’s trouble. He beat me 6-4.

I had court duty tonight with Sandy. Pat came down and helped and it was fun just sitting and talking to her as darkness fell. With all the old buildings it looked like a night out of a Shelly book. It was so hot that getting wet felt good. I made it back to the dorm and the kids were watching TV. I saw Tom and thank god he wasn’t gloating over his victory, he never does, in fact he praised my game and said that I need to cut down on a few errors and that I would be okay.

Sanderson and I read for a while and then fell asleep.

Sunday, June 26th, 1977

It was a wonderful, lazy Sunday morning at the Academy. It was clear and grass was wet with dew, I love the smell of wet grass. This is the first day of the counselor tournament and I drew the number one seed, Eric Riley. Riley has the game and the sound, By that it means that when he strikes the ball its dead center of his Dunlop Maxply. It is a pleasing sound rivaled only by how picture perfect his strokes are. I ran and tried to run him; I was in the match, in the set, in the game, in the point, but Riley had an answer for every ball I hit. I had some luck with my drop shot because he doesn’t cover the short ball well, but he handled everything and beat me 8-0. Did I feel embarrassed? No. I gave it everything I had and I showed up. Sandy watched and thought it was a close match.

Mr. B also showed up to watch and when I came off the court he had nice words for me. He said that I out-worked him but I needed a plan. He said any plan is better than none. That I need to make a list of weaknesses and play to them, its not enough getting to every ball, he said I was playing defense, he thinks I need to grab the match, dictate points and play offense. He said while I’m out there on the court I need to constantly think of ways to win. Very wise words from Mr. B; I can work with that.

In the afternoon it was counselor doubles, John Day and I played Doug Hamilton and Andy Greenspan. John Day is a very good doubles player and we were able to win our serves and lucky enough to break Andy. We won 6-2. Andy is a great guy who just came into camp a few days ago from Scarsdale, New York.

Sandy beat X in the first round, Pat lost to Chris, Becky beat Jude. Bobby D. beat Tom V in a three setter. There were some great matches. Mr. B says hes putting up 25.00 bucks to winner of singles, that’s peaked interest in the tournament.

They had video tape replays from Wimbledon all afternoon, they had the Borg match and Bobby D. and the legion of pro Borg campers were cheering him on. I think he’s okay. I think the heavy topspin is more of a liability than an asset, but he should win the tournament.

After the matches and dinner Mike and I walked down to Wises for mint-chocolate chip ice cream. We talked about little league baseball, He's an athlete and was an all star. I bet he can hit the ball a mile. Hopefully when the sports camp gets going we can play them.

It’s a perfect night, I can hear the crickets and see the fireflies. I walked over to the girls dorm and hung out in the TV lounge and talked to Chris, Becky, Bevin and Pat. The poor girls have it much tougher than us, there are more girl campers! I adore them all.

Saturday June 25th, 1977

I slept wonderfully and when I awoke my first thought was…no teaching today! Sandy I and walked down to the courts after breakfast and and played tennis. For the first time against him I took a set. His first serve was off a bit, that was just enough to let me in the door. On clay I can attack the second serve and make people run with a short angle and thats what I did, I hit the ball back to the corners and hit to the open court. I got him running but he should have took the match at 5-4, but I hit this really weak return and he came in and I landed a lob over his head to tie the match at 5-5. I won my serve and he struggled with 5 duce points, I finally hit a ball deep to his forehand corner, he tried to pass me and I volleyed into the open court. This was a huge set because Sandy has been beating everyone but Riley and Eric L.

We went back to the dorms and got ready for Saunderosa Park. Mr. B rented two buses and we drove to the park. Mr. B. talked to Peggy in the Dining hall and she made 129 lunches. It was a huge operation, Roger is our number guy and he does roll call when the kids get on the bus; and then again at lunch and then again when we board to go home. Its a lot of paperwork but Roger doesnt mind, hes good at it.

The Park has a large natural lake and a nice clubhouse with pin ball machines, juke box and snacks, the kids loved being away from the courts for a day. Bobby and Vrana, X and Lenny enjoy teasing and playing with the kids. The rest of the counselors just kept an eye on everything while at the same time getting a tan. I got scorched….I even went for a swim in that pond water. I think its safe. One kid caught a frog and he asked if he could bring him back, I ordered the frog released.

Saunderosa is in the mountains (hills) outside of Mercersburg and its very beautiful. The woods are very thick with ferns and all of the are thick and leafy. The skies clearrd and it got hot fast. I brought a blanket and set it down near Roger, he brought his radio and I was able to listen to the Philly game.

We got back at 4 just in time for Wimbledon on television. 40 campers gathered in the Fowle Lobby on the first floor. It was a great match and I was pulling for Connors, he fought like a mad man and pulled out the match 6-3 in the fifth over Stan Smith. The kids were disappointed because they wanted the mild mannered underdog to win.

We had at least 5 campers with sunburns, Tom S. and I took them to the Infirmary. After that I helped Mike Kunz set up the dance. He has tapes all recorded and ready to go. It took us about an hour to run the speaker wire and get the two decks hooked up.

Mr. B dropped by with two big containers of punch from the dining hall. He was in great spirits, was glad the day went so smooth. He is still upset that we are losing so many balls, he asked why wasn’t I on ball duty. I didn’t have an answer for him, he said he was going to talk to Sheridan about that. When I had balls we only lost three. He says we are down half a gross.

The kids started showing up. They were all dressed up in their sperrys and LaCoste shirts, it was the classic case of boys on one side and girls on the other. A few danced but they all enjoyed the music. I was asked to dance by Judy the camper, and then I asked Bevin to dance. All the women counselors looked lovely.

The dances are held behind the gym in the drying shed. The drying shed is where they dry out the football uniforms. It’s a big room just perfect for a dance. Some counselors patrol around the gym, others dance, others are on dorm duty for kids that want to stay there.

The dance ended at 11:00, I helped Mike break down and hit the sack by midnight. Boy am I sunburned and tired, we get to sleep in tomorrow!

Friday, June 24th, 1977

I can’t believe its Friday all ready, this week is really flying by. We worked on volleys and overheads and when you have to hit several hundred balls before noon the day drags on and on. Xavier was on the court next to me and I could tell that he was just as exhausted.

I did have some triumphs; Mr Brennan’s method for the overhead is flawless. He tells the kids to raise both hands up immediately, track the ball with the left hand and replace the left hand with the right. The kids were timing the ball perfectly. In the demo Mr. B nailed it, both hands up, weight on the balls of the feet, sideways; replace one hand with the other. I had 7 little girls on my court and all nailed the overhead. They had a bit more trouble with the volley.

We broke for lunch, it was getting hot fast and I got to Forde Hall for lunch. I sat with X and we talked about France. He is a University Student, he’s been playing for years and one day wants to be a musician or an interpreter. We talked about French rock music and who he likes and dislikes. X is a very interesting guy and I like him a lot. He is very good on clay; he gets a lot of balls back.

I took a nap at lunch; I needed it because I was so tired. I had a much better afternoon. I stood next to Bevin’s court and we were able to talk the afternoon away. She told me that she is from Haverford outside of P.A. that her Dad is a famous artist with work in New York's Met. Her parents are divorced and we were able to compare notes on that. Mr. B came by and talked to her for a half hour, then came to my court and talked to me.

We talked about BJK and that first Wimbledon singles title she won. He told me that the previous summers she stayed at the house. He told me that with so many kids he hardly noticed he had another kid there. He said she was just another member of the family and he told me how fond Mrs. B is of her. Mr. B says BJK is successful because she attacks, attacks, attacks.

Sheridan came over and asked what Mr. B and I were chatting about; he says Mr. B must like me because he says he doesn’t chat much with counselors. I’m just a good listener and Mr. B is the consummate story teller.

At 4pm I hit with the camper Billy Sigmon. He is 12 and is a remarkable player. He hits hard and deep and easily beats the 15 year old guys. He has a funny personality, very loud and happy. Mr. B is fond of him. I like him as well. Roger loves to play him for cokes and I think he owes Roger at least a 6-pack, but Billy is so cheap he keeps doubling his bet. Roger is ruthless when cokes are on the line.

The kids are all going to the Mercersburg Theatre downtown tonight. They’re playing Jaws and it should be fun. A few of the counselors are going along to keep an eye on them all. I volunteered, the cute girls from Ohio invited Mark and I to sit with them it was such a cute gesture. The Theatre is at least a hundred years old with movies over the weekend. Bevin ended up sitting with us and she looked smashing and wore a long dress. Wow. After the movie we walked all the kids home. After we got the kids in bed the counselors all went to McKinstry’s Pub for beers, I was too tired and just went back to the room and read. I should have asked Bevin if she was up for a walk, but Im too shy. What if she said no?

Thursday June 23rd, 1977

We had a lot of fun last night, Feinberg and Solomon were a riot, the girls were cute and we drank a lot of beer. Kenny teased me today saying that 'you had as much fun as one can have on a date with 6 other people in the car.' I was tipsy, so I guess I had a good time. I made eye contact with Sheridan a few times today and he just flashed that smile and shook his head.

The morning went fast today, I worked with Judy Tarbert and her cousin Debbie Hook from Bay Villiage Ohio. They are two of the cutest girls you will ever meet and also the most charming. I had them hitting so well and was very proud of myself.

In the afternoon Tom sent Lenny, Pat and I up to the hard courts. Bobby got in trouble a couple of nights ago so Tom put he and Vrana on the teaching court. When its hot like this its the same as being sent to Devil's Island.

I played Feinberg at 4:00 and he really kicked my ass, he ran out to a 4-0 lead but I figured him out and started hitting the short angles on him, I ran him pretty good but he didnt miss a shot and beat me 7-5. He goes to John Hopkins and plays on the team there and is a very solid player. If you make a mistake against him you lose because he doesnt make many mistakes. I was playing with a bum ankle and was afraid to slide on it...but its fine. Its all purple around the joint area.

Bobby and I were on Downtown duty at Wise's. This is Bobby's favorite duty and I see why, he is a bigger flirt than me! This is a different side to the guy I know from ISU. He was shy there and Craig Thompson, one of our mutual friends told me that Bobby spent a lot of time in the dorm and didnt socialize much. He was so funny tonight. We told a bunch of the girls that we were twin brothers and they still think that we are twins and Roger is our little brother.

At school Bobby and I were rivals on the team and we never just hung out and talked. I can see that I missed out because he has a great sense of humor, he is one of those guys that's just too smart for his own good.

Theres a big orange moon tonight, I can see the constellations I see at home, the north star, Orion's belt...kind of makes me wonder whats going on at home. I wonder if Zaladonis is playing the tournaments we played last year. I wanted to get another win before I left but he was hiding from me. Ive been here almost two weeks and am still loving it.

Sanderson is laying on his bed reading Tennis magazine. He's having a good summer, having only lost the doubles sets in which he partnered with me! I have to start playing well soon!

Wednesday, June 22nd, 1977

This is what we do every afternoon at camp, stand at the net posts and supervise the afternoon matches. Its long and sometimes tedious. Bevin looks fantastic as always and is up for the task!

I limped to breakfast, I tried to put my tennis shoe on but it was too swollen. I got some more ice and had a good breakfast. I went back to the room and elevated the ankle and iced it for a few hours and it did a world of good. The swelling went down and I was able to lace up my tennis shoe.

I didn’t leave the room all morning, just read a book and listened to the radio. There’s a couple of great Fleetwood Mac songs just out that are amazing one is the song Rayana, I can’t get it out of my head. The other is the song ‘Year of the Cat’ by Al Stewart. “He goes strolling through the bar like Peter Lorrie contemplating a crime,” that’s a great line. I hear the album is very good, I wish I had a stereo here. Mike Kunz has his stereo in his room and I stopped by yesterday and listened to that new Earth Wind and Fire album. It has that song Shining star…it sounds so sharp in those speakers…and he has these cool headphones and the music seems to move from the back to the front of the room. I love music, but all I have is WRCV!

Sweet Pat Rountree showed up with tea and sympathy. It’s her day off as well. We went downtown for lunch. This little break from the teaching world and the kids is a needed change of pace. I swear, you never seem to have a moment’s privacy. We stopped at the laundry mat and put some clothes in, Pat pointed out that the colors don’t go in with the whites. I couldn’t believe how good the whites came out. She also showed me how to fold all of my T-shirts. I’m learning a lot from this cute Canadian girl!

I was in the room in the late afternoon and Mr. B. dropped by. We talked about everything. He was telling me about all the people around town, there is this woman named Jean that was at our adult camp, she lives down the road and she takes lessons from Riley. Mr. B says she is a very sweet and wealthy lady. I think she’s 38 or 39. She looks 10 years younger, she’s tanned smells good has a beautiful smile. Every time she drives by in the big Lincoln Town car she honks and waves. Mr. B thinks she likes me, But she’s just friendly. The boss says she’s worth millions.

Mr. B says one of these first evenings he will take me out to dinner. He asked how the ball situation is going and I told him that they took the duty away from Sanderson and I. He didn’t seem happy with that because yesterday he watched a carload of townies make off with 40 or 50 balls just before dinner. I feel sorry for whoever has ball duty; I guarantee they’re in trouble.

Tonight I sat out on the porch of Fowle, I pulled up a chair and read my book for a while, Liz and Eric stopped by and we talked a long time. I get the biggest kick out of Riley. He is very understated and modest...Liz is very good looking so it was great company.

When Tom got through with his duties a bunch of us went into Haggerstown, In the car it was Kenny, Solomon Tom and me. We called up Brenda and her friends and met them at the Plantation nightclub for a few beers, it was great fun. Its back to the grind tomorrow, ankle is fine.

Tuesday, June 21st, 1977

Morning comes early at the Academy, there’s the alarm clock that goes off at 7:30, then its down the hall for a shower, shave, and the morning routine. Then its to Forde Hall for breakfast. No one talks much in the morning, Roger shows up wearing flip flops, a NY Yankees hat, Tom is fully dressed and ready to go, as are all the women counselors. I’m a flip flop T-shirt guy too but Mark is fully dressed and ready to go. I dont know where he gets all of this energy!

Mr. B is always up early and I hear the whistling in the morning. I can smell his coffee from the foyer apartment. He shows up at the courts about 7:45 and hits on the back wall. He has so much energy in the morning and is always happy as lark. Sometimes he pulls me aside and asks how things are at home. We hit it off and he tells me all kinds of things, one morning he told me stories about his mother and the time she won the New Jersey Lottery, another time he told me about being a kid and seeing Babe Ruth play baseball. He is a master story teller and I hang on every word. This Mr. B. is one in a million.

Mr. B. and Riley did a demo for the forehand. Mr. B told campers the left hand is critical for the forehand, from the ready position you have to push the racquet back and in a looping motion strike the ball going low to high, in a natural topspin motion. The he says its vital to recapture the racquet after the follow through and get back in ready position.

Mr. B also talked about heroes to the kids. He said we are a society of false heroes, that we sometime idolize people that are not worthy, rock stars, baseball players, tennis players, that the real heroes are underneath their noses, our parents who struggle to make a living, living with the pressures, all the crap at work, the long commute and they do it all over again without much attention. It was sobering.

It was hot again, and humid, I guess this is the norm here. We don’t have the humidity in Idaho, I hope I get used to this…also there are the nats, these bugs not only bite you, but they fly straight for the eyes. I dig a few out every day. I have a few mosquito bites too.

Because of the taping and viewing we were not very organized this morning, I got to teach on the hard court with the advanced players and it was fun but tiring. Im hitting very well on the hard courts, so my poor play is probably because I haven’t figured out the clay yet. I was so tired today that I rushed through lunch and took a nap at noon. It made all the difference in the world. I had so much energy the rest of the afternoon. The kids were able to play singles and doubles matches all afternoon. We stand at the net posts and correct mistakes and give encouragement…all afternoon. That’s three hours in the sun….Im so sun burned and my head is fried.

I played Lenny at 4:00 and we split sets. I lost the first 6-4, and won the second 7-5. I think the difference was that I kept the ball in play. I dictated the points…hit the drop shot and lob and made him run. He hits perfectly and wonderfully but on the run he is prone to mistakes. There must have been 8 or 9 counselors playing today after work.

I walked downtown for Ice Cream to a little store off campus called Wise’s. Its run by Mr. Wise and he has the best Hersey’s Ice Cream…You can get burgers and fries there too, It’s a cool place with lots of tables and juke box. The place was packed with campers.

After dinner I was on field sport duty and played volleyball. We had enough for two full teams. At one point I had a perfect set and went up for the spike. I came down hard and twisted my ankle on the standard under the net. I saw stars….I had tears in my eyes and ankle swelled up to the point to where you couldn’t see the bump of the ankle bone. Sandy took care of me, getting ice and we wrapped it. He just had a bad sprain a few days before. I had the ankle elevated all night, I hope I can play tomorrow. Tom came in and said we will play it by ear, he said we will trade day-off with someone so I can rest the ankle.

Monday June 20th,1977

Thank god I turned in early, it was scorching hot and humid today and with a hundred campers it was a heavy teaching load. We started video taping the girl campers yesterday and got them going again first thing, we didn’t start on the boys until 11. Mr. B is looking at stroke production, how they pull the racquet back, the swing, how they watch the ball. He is very sharp and doesn't miss a thing.

In the mean time on the clay courts we played a game called around the world and did what we could in terms of teaching. We won’t start on the forehand until tomorrow. We had a counselor on each court plus one in the viewing room behind the gym showing the tape. We also had the better players on the hard courts. Bobby and Tom V and Solomon and Feinberg were up there. Some of the advanced players are very good players.

Mr. B was on the gym balcony, Riley fed balls and Kunz videotaped, like yesterday Mr. B gave analysis on tape so the camper can hear his comments, it’s a very efficient operation….but its very tiring on everybody I was bushed and thought noon time would never come.

We had a fantastic lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tater tots, I must have drank a whole pitcher of milk. Mark sat at my table along with 12 campers. We chatted them up pretty good and we’re both aware of the fact that we have to be careful what we say at all times, we’re role models, so we just let them do the talking and we listened, the kids are so funny.

We got halfway through the afternoon and dark clouds blew in and it rained, it came down hard. We went inside the gym and it was loud, hot and not much fun. Pat Rowntree got nailed in the eye with a ball and I’m talking hard, real hard. It was so humid indoors that we were all soaked in sweat. The kids were exhausted. When we walked back to the dorms we were soaked again. Mr. B had the pool opened for the kids and they were excited about swimming. Pat, Liz, Chris Me, Riley were on pool duty. I didn’t swim just chatted with the girls.
Heres a list of the counselors:
Mark Sanderson…Massachusetts
Marc Solomon, Long Island, New York
Tom Sheridan, Dearborn Michigan
Eric Riley Glasgow, Scotland, UK
Doug Hamilton, Scotland, UK
Bobby Dickinson, Arlington, TX
Roger Dickinson, Arlington, TX
John Day, Wayne New Jersey
Kenny Feinberg, New York City
Pat Rountree, Toronto, Canada
Tom Vrana, New Jersey
Liz, Miami, Florida
Becky Craft Binghamton, New York
Chris Russell-Vick, London, England
Lenny Saks, New Rochelle, N.Y.
Jude Gatewood, Washington, DC
Mike Kunz-Long Island, New York
Jake Putnam, Pocatello, Idaho
Bevin Engman, Philadelphia
Xavier Combe, Paris, France

I’m still not playing well, I hit with this 12 year old by the name of Gwen and she ran me off the court. She hit deep to the corners and I struggled just to keep the ball back. Mr. B says she is ranked number 1 in NJ! The hit didn’t help my confidence a bit. Sandy tells me I worry too much, that I need to just get out and play and adjust to the clay rather than fight it. I think there is wisdom in his words. I was on dorm duty after dinner and just hung out and watched TV and kept an eye on the kids. The skies have cleared but it’s so humid. I wont be sleeping much tonight.

I found some cool posters upstairs and hung them up in the room, Mark brought a couple from home as well and the room looks good. Thank god I brought the alarm clock that Mom and Jerry gave me, Id be lost without WRCV FM!

I had the chance to chat with Bevin, all I can say is what a pair of blue eyes! She has a lot to say...and I was listening.

Sunday June 19th, 1977--Mercersburg Academy

Never before have I seen so many Lacoste shirts, Sperry topsiders and Volvo station wagons. The first round of kids started showing up around noon. We moved our desk out in the hall of the foyer for camper check in. We were all paired in groups of six, the woman counselors escorted the girl campers to the dorm, while the guys did the same with the boys. We passed out keys and towels and reassured the parents and the campers, there were a lot of tears shed, some of the kids have never been away from home and it’s just as tough on the parents.

It’s a brilliant, hot and humid day…whew. I bet I have already drank a gallon of water and I need another shower.

There are so many new counselors here, Eric Leges from Plymouth State, Andy Greenspan, Bevin Engman from Philly, Jude Gatewood from D.C.; Tom Vrana from New Jersey, Becky Craft from Wellesley College. Verona made the mistake of calling Mr. B, ‘Franky’ to Tom Sheridan. Sheridan told him curtly that we refer to Frank Brennan as Mr. B or Mr. Brennan. It was one of the awkward moments of the morning.

Chris and Pat manned the desk with Sanderson and I. Mark is very good with the kids, he was a counselor last summer in Maine and he knows how to deal with kids and parents, he’s a pro. Chris is very good as well, I think that English accent reassures the parents, maybe it’s a subliminal Mary Poppins thing. This Bevin Engman is very good too; she really has the maternal instinct and is quite striking. She has very blond hair, an easy laugh, and very blue eyes. I really like all the girl counselors, all very good tennis players but I can tell they will do well with the kids.

After we got most of the kids checked in Tom Sheridan laid down the law again telling us that drinking and smoking are not tolerated and are grounds of dismissal, girls are not allowed in the boys dorms and vice versa. He also told us watch the little kids closely because they tend to get homesick the fastest, we put all the little ones on the first floor where we can keep an eye on them. Mr. B says when kids get homesick and go home the camp loses money and there is no excuse for it, we must welcome the kids and help them get through the two weeks. The parents are paying close to a thousand for two weeks!

I helped Mike Kunz break out the video equipment, it’s the same Sony unit Jim Hall and I used for our cable access TV show. Its reel to reel and very cool. Kunz and I set up the tripod and Mr. B had us tape them. Riley and Hamilton fed balls to the kids, 10 forehands, 10 backhands, 5 volleys and a couple of overheads. Mr B. gave a running commentary on the tape. We will show the tape on Monday and Tuesday afternoon.

After dinner we went for a short drive with Tom through the countryside, it was nice to get away for a few minutes. When we got back, Roger Dickinson and Riley posted the duties for the week, to my surprise I found out that I had court duty, so Sandy and I swept and watered the courts. We didn’t get done until 9:45 and we were soaking wet. I’m dreading tomorrow because it’s going to be long.

Just a few minutes ago Mr. B was walking down the hallways to check on the counselors. He made sure the little ones were in their room and checked on the homesick ones, he chewed out John Day because kids near his room were running a bit wild. One kid was crying and Mr. B took him to his apartment which is just off the lobby and let him call home. That settled the kid right down.

Saturday, June 18th, 1977

Everyone went out last night both counselors and Adults. Mark Sanderson came stumbling in at 1:30 and I was pissed that he woke me up. He had a bit too much to drink and out of the corner of my eye, I watched him trying to get his pants off, at one point he almost fell over, it was priceless. He had grass stains on his knees and his eyes were at half mast. He was so funny that I instantly forgave him. He's a great guy with excellent drunken stories, I only wish I had snapped some photos.

I got up early and had breakfast at Forde Hall. All the adult campers were moving quite slow and the morning conversation at the tables chronicled the night before, there were some funny stories. It sounds as though the group went to the Mercersburg Inn across the way. Its a large turn of the century colonial hotel that's very fancy. I can only afford a beer per visit.

After a mini tournament of doubles for the adults they packed up and left, it was sad seeing the taillights disappear through the trees. We had a great lunch at Forde Hall on the plaza overlooking the playing fields, it was very festive and Mr. B gave a great speech and snapped photos, many addresses were sadly exchanged.

After lunch Sanderson and I played Riley and Mike Kunz, Kunz is fast and Riley can put the ball anywhere on the court. They beat us easily 6-1,6-3. Sandy was able to hold serve but I couldn't. They attacked and I didn't have a chance on the slow clay. We returned well but they had too much firepower for us...Riley has a lob that drops on the baseline at will. I've been here a week and still haven't won a set! I watched Riley play today and the main thing I noticed is that he plays off the balls of his feet, he constantly bounces, even with a bum knee. He anticipates very well and I'm in awe of the guy.

It's later now and I woke up from a nap around 3:00 pm. The old man, Brian Barker was playing the bells from Irvine Chapel, the afternoon sun, with the bells, gives the place atmosphere that's hard to put into words. There were people with picnic baskets on the hill near the chapel, enjoying the music.

At dinner we ran into Pat, Chris, Becky and Cathy and they invited us to Tibbits lounge. Lenny played the piano and we had a great time singing and listening to Lenny play. Other counselors showed up to see what was up.

Earlier, Mr. B took off in the car, he was headed to Maryland with a bottle of wine, said he was going to a fancy French restaurant. He loves to dine, he says its because when he was young he never had the cash, I can believe it, must have been hard with 10 kids. The other day I was out picking up balls by myself and he stopped by and we chatted for 45 minutes.

He said that he hired me instantly on Charlie Fenske's recommendation because he says Charlies' word is good as gold. I told him all about Charlies team, the ISU Bengals and their upset win over UCLA in the NCAA's. Charlie was a big part of that success. Mr. B asked a lot of questions about me. I told him that I had never been out of Idaho, hadnt even been on an airplane before. I told him that I came from a blue collar family and that my dad is a pipe fitter. With all the rich kids here, he kind of liked the idea of having regular folk around.

Friday June 17th, 1977

I have a headache, It’s funny how a few beers can change one's perspective. We had a lot of fun last night but I’m paying for it now. I just got back from breakfast, Sanderson and I ate like horses. I should be feeling better; I think I had 5 orange juices.

Tom sent me down to the court early to pick up tennis balls. Yesterday no one gathered up the balls. Mr. B. went into Tom’s room and tore him a new one so Tom assigned me ball duty for the next two weeks. While I was picking up balls Mr. B came by in the two tone station wagon. He was whistling and without a care in the world, hard to believe an hour ago he was pissed. Mr. B can whistle how many tough guys can do that? The other thing that I noticed is that he loves Barbara Streisand. He has one of her cassettes and plays it full blast in the car and he hums and sings along. We chatted for a while and I know that I got brownie points for picking up the balls; Sanderson should have come along.

Friday PM.
It’s another hot, humid day. Eighty-five degrees is nothing in Idaho, but here with the humidity its scorching hot and its hard to breathe. I worked on forehands with the Adults and they're responding to everything Im showing them, they really want to learn and when you give them a tip they appreciate it. I worked with Kirk the millionaire and praised his progress and gave him some things to work on when he got home. He told Mr. B that I was his favorite counselor.

Late this afternoon Bobby Dickinson and his little brother Roger arrived at the camp. Bobby is usually very aloof but acted glad to see me. His brother Roger is very different, very polite, a bit shorter but a very a nice guy with a quick smile. Roger is the type of guy that if you are talking to him, you have his full attention but he is full of mischief and funny wisecracks. Bobby told me that they have been coming to camp for years as campers and this is their second year as counselors. They’re good friends with Mr. B back in New Jersey, Franklin Lakes is not far from Upper Saddle River.

Bobby was the best player at Idaho State, no one was close to him except Gary Benedetti…he had a couple of wins over Bobby…but it was even. When we played Santa Clara last spring Bobby played Mike Bogert, one of my teammates at Pocatello High. Bogert beat him in straight sets, which surprised me. Bobby looks and plays like Borg, heavy topspin, two handed backhand and lots of attitude. I played him a couple of times but could only manage a game or two. I think I could do better against him on clay, we will see.

Sanderson and I played Feinberg and Solomon, we had our asses handed to us. Feinberg is a solid player and tore through us at the net. His best shot is the service return, he didn’t miss a shot. He played college tennis at John Hopkins, Solomon played college tennis as well so it was an even matchup on paper. Afterwards I played Feinberg in singles and lost 6-2, I don’t have the patience down yet. On this surface you have to set points up, you win on the 5 or 6th ball.

Its Friday night and I went upstairs to check and see what everyone was doing. Roger and X were sitting in the Lounge watching TV, Roger had a radio on and was listening to a far off baseball game somewhere. Feinberg, Solomon, Riley, John Day and Sandy were going to walk downtown to McKinstry Tavern for a beer. Bobby, Pat and I went to the movies and it was fun. Bobby was a lot of fun and we traded ISU stories, we have a lot of mutual friends. Pat was very flirty tonight, I wonder whats up with that?

There are fireflies here at night. I've never seen anything like it, as you lookout across the night you see them streaking in the night, they're everywhere. The crickets are very loud as well and they dominate the night, at the Academy is there is no sound at all, the stars are so close and its dead silent except for the crickets.

I picked up tennis balls at noon and then again at 4 and then again at 8. We had a ball count of 110…so in the past two days we have lost just 8 balls. I reported this to Mr. B and I could tell he was pleased, the balls are money. He says he has them all budgeted for the summer and if we run out he has to order more, that’s wasted money. I told him Id keep an eye on the balls, that I didn’t mind picking them up. Tom came back to me this morning and said that Mr. B was happy that he had someone he could depend on with the balls. If this all I have to do to make the boss happy, Ill do it.

Tomorrow is the last day for the Adults, we are going to have a mini tournament for them and then they'll leave at noon. Its sad to see them go, so many great people and the atmosphere is relaxed and fun. My tennis is in a huge rut. I haven’t won a set since I’ve been here.

It’s past midnight I’m sitting here listening to WRCV, "the voice of Mercersburg, Upton" what a great radio station. They just played that new James Taylor song, “Up on the Roof” I like the line, “At night the stars, they put on a show for free…”
Sanderson is still not home, I’m going to sleep.

Thursday, June 16th, 1977

We were up early and had a good breakfast before getting to the courts at 8:15, Mark and I decided to show up a bit early and hit. In back of the old Gym we could hear someone hitting on the wall. It was Mr. B…he didn’t see us and we were able to watch him hit. He’s very good; hitting ball after ball to the exact same place on the wall. He didn’t have to move at all and he hit dead center each time, it was impressive.

The adults were a bit slow getting to the courts; a bunch had gone to the track last night down in West Virginia. They didn’t get back until midnight, but it sounds like they had a good time. Mr. B says he made about 150.00.

The lecture was really good. Mr. B talked about approach shots. He says that any short shot should be attacked and approach shots should be hit deep down the line. He says on the forehand side it should be topspin, on the backhand side it should be under spin. The demo was amazing.

Late yesterday Mr. B went to Haggerstown and picked up a new counselor. The guys name is Xavier Combe from Paris, France. He is swarthy and slender with piercing eyes and a hook nose just like Charles Degalle. When I saw him in the dorm he was walking around with drum sticks and a practice pad. He’s a very good drummer. I haven’t seen him play tennis yet. I talked briefly with him and his English is perfect, no accent at all.

Mr. B says 10 new counselors will be coming in for the regular sessions that start on Sunday. Mr. B says he has 105 signed up…with 18 counselors that’s 8 or 9 kids per court…that’s a lot of hard work…that means a lot of drilling.

We worked with the adults most of the morning on the approach. I would hit them two deep balls and then hit a short ball on the T, they would come up and hit the approach and take the net. It was a fun drill and they loved it, I got lots of great hitting in. In the afternoon we played matches with half the adults playing singles and the rest played doubles. We were able to play doubles when needed and the afternoon went fast.

I hit with Lenny after we were through. It was scorching hot, 85 degrees with very high humidity, I was soaking wet. Lenny hits every shot picture perfect with perfect form…he’s impressive. I was able to stay with him but he slipped by me and won 6-4, 7-5, I had the feeling in the set that I would have to play perfect to win. Im not there yet on clay; nevertheless it came down to a couple of service returns.

Lenny and I walked back to the dorms, then across the street to Tibbits Hall where the girls are all bunked. We talked to Pat and Chris Russell-Vick. Chris is the cutest gal from England and has a delightful accent. In the lobby they have a piano and Lenny sat down and played for an hour straight. He is the best piano player, he played Elton John, Barry Manilow, he brought his own sheet music and can play anything. I was singing along and turning the pages, it was fun.


I showered and ran into Tom Sheridan, he said he wanted to run into Haggerstown reasoning that when the kids come to camp we won't have the chance to go out and have a beer so we made good use of the time. We called those girls we met last weekend. So Mark Solomon, Ken Feinberg, Tom, Mark S. and I piled in.

We met the girls at this bar called the Plantation and danced the night away. My friend Brenda looked fabulous and she was kissing on me on the dance floor. Kenny teased me all the way back home, I just smiled. We pulled in around midnight, some of the adults were still up partying. We were so tired we just crashed.

WEDNESDAY JUNE 15TH, 1977

With Franco dead, the first general elections were held in Spain , the first since 1936. That was the headline in the Washington Post. I like to read the paper in the morning but this is the first newspaper I have seen since arriving here.

The breakfasts here are great, theres a choice of oatmeal or cold cereal, lots of juice and eggs, and they always seem to have hotcakes too. You can drink as much milk or juices as you want. Riley downs at least three glasses of milk in the morning and lunch. Sanderson and I are juice guys and we always have a line of empty glasses in front of us. It’s fun to see who is going to sit at your table. We have a rule, no more than 2 counselors per table. Mr. B wants us interacting with the campers and its fun to hear their stories, where they are from, what they do, where they play tennis. There's a lot of campers from Mr .’s hometown including his daughter Colleen whom I adore and her friend Annabel. Both are great players and Colleen has great stories about BJK.

Today we taught the overhead and volley and I had a great morning. I think it went fast because I was really into the teaching. The afternoon flew by as well because we got to play doubles with the adults. I played tennis with this greek millionaire guy. He owns a shipping company and a skyscraper in Manhattan . Mr. B says the guy is loaded. He is funny and full of jokes, he has taken a liking to Pat but she just laughs off the attention.

After a fantastic dinner in Forde Hall, Pat and I had court duty. The job entails sweeping the 13 clay courts with massive brooms that you drag across the courts. It takes a while, and then you turn on the sprinklers and water the courts. In the morning one of the maintenance guys rolls the courts with a mini tractor. It’s impossible not to get soaked on court duty. I think Pat spraying me contributed to the situation, but I got her back, and good. Next time I’m bringing a towel. That Pat is playful and cute!

Last night we went to the Campus chapel, Irvine Memorial Chapel, it was so scary and gothic and the confederate ghosts were out it was great fun. What an amazing structure, I briefly met the guy that plays the bells, Bryan Barker. He’s in his late 70’s with a shock of white hair, he was lurking about the chapel, ironically he has a hunch back and an English accent. coincidence? I think not.

Pat and I played Tom and this cute camper by the name of Patty in doubles. Patty is from Pittsburg and I think she has a crush on Tom. They're the same age and she has very strong groundstrokes, but not much of a net game. Its the same with Tom, he has fantastic groundstrokes but because of an unorthadox grip has suspect vollys. We had them at 5-4 but lost Pat’s serve and ended up losing 7-5.

Mr. B gave a great lecture this morning about volleys and how you can’t hit them flat footed, you have to bounce and put weight behind them. You have go low with the ball at the net and hit down on the high balls. He made it look easy in the demo; the ball is crisp off his racquet. I like the sound of a ball hit dead center.

TUESDAY JUNE 14TH, 1977

It was another long day on the courts, Mr. B. lectured on the serve, and he says the key is going from slow to fast, like whipping a towel in the shower…for best results its best to have a high, consistent ball toss. Mr. B’s demos made it all look so easy; he tossed the ball up and swatted it like a fly swatter. He had a slow delivery and cracked the ball at the end to a snappy result; the ball had some heat behind it. He hit 10 serves in a row down the middle and didn’t miss, it was impressive. You can tell this guy was a player in his time, he told me that he was a state champion at one time, I believe it.

Mark S. is already back on the court, we kept ice on his ankle last night for hours. This morning it was still swollen but seemed fine. We put an ace bandage on it and he was good to go, he wasn’t sliding around much but was able to teach.

Mark, Tom, Bert, Eric R. and I went to Hagerstown . Hagerstown is the big hotspot around here; it’s a town of about 60-thousand. On the way down we got to talk to Bert, he is a teaching pro from Arnhem , Holland ; he is visiting various camps with the hopes of developing a curriculum for his camp. He is very skilled on clay with classic strokes. He looks as if he could play on the tour. He and Riley would have a good match I think. Riley was number one in 18’s in Scotland and as I said before played in Jr. Wimbledon.

We met some cute girls, and then we went to a bar and some drinks with them, They liked the idea that we were bronzed tennis pros. They were into Riley and his accent and of course he ate it up with that cheshire grin. Tom Sheridan is smooth and had all the lines; he’s a bit older and has all that (girl) experience from the U of G. He just graduated and was in a frat there and bristling with confidence. We exchanged numbers and I took a liking to the cute one named Brenda…she’s a blond hair, blue-eyed beauty.

Today is my afternoon off so Pat Rowntree and I are going to walk to town and do our laundry. I have to say that she has the best brown eyes and I find myself flirting with her a lot. It is cloudy today and a mist is falling, its dark and kind of cool.

We did the laundry and went shopping at a few antique stores downtown, We talked to lady he told us that her shop was built in the 1740’s. She showed us the old timbers and ancient, square pegged nails in the walls. We got an ice cream cone, gathered up the laundry from the dryers, it was fun folding laundry because Pat had to show me how…when we got back to campus we noticed that classes had been called for the afternoon and many of the adult campers were enjoying cocktails in their rooms.
I heard a great song on the radio by a group called Starbuck.

“The eastern moon looks right for a wet kiss…
Moonlight feels right…”

Tom says that he saw this group in Atlanta this past year. What a cool, catchy song.

JUNE 13TH, 1977

Mercersburg—More about this town, its fun to walk across campus and then down Seminary street ;. the buildings are very old and this is the birthplace of President James Buchanan, his house still stands on the main street in town. Buchanan’s cabin the place where he was born stands down the road from Fowle Hall, we pass it on the way to the tennis courts every morning.

The civil war is very much a part of this town and still lives; there are civil war era houses everywhere. Mercersburg was raided all the time by Confederate soldiers during the war. Gen. Stuart and his cavalry passed through town on Oct 10, 1862 during the first Chambersburg raid.

During the Gettysburg Campaign confederate raiders including Mosby's and McNeil's Rangers sacked the town. On July 5, 1863, more than 700 wounded Confederates, captured by Union cavalry in Maryland were brought here and put up in makeshift hospitals on campus and two of those buildings still stand. On July 29, 1864 General McCausland's cavalry fought a skirmish with a detachment of the 6th U.S. cavalry in the town square. After driving them from town, the Confederates paused to loot before moving on to burn Chambersburg . I have to say that late last night walking across the campus was creepy. Probably the ghosts of the confederates…

There are adults attending the camp from all over, one guy Burt is from Holland , theres a guy from Miami and bunch of people from New Jersey .

We had a long day. We worked straight from 8-am to 4pm…we had an hour off for lunch in Ford Hall. You should see this dining hall…you walk in to a long line of beautiful oak tables. For cafeteria food, it’s fantastic except for the desert nazi who for the past two days has said to me, “Hey buddy, one desert.” I’m a growing boy and need all the pudding I can get. Anyway, I don’t think I have ever had a meal in a fancier place.

The people we taught were eager to learn and were really neat. They are all wealthy professionals. The level of play is much higher than in west, these people can play and are serious about tennis.

Today Mr. Brennan in his lecture talked about tennis and how its more than a game, it’s a social outlet and people can network with one another. He talked about his family and how proud he is of them and how tennis has helped in their lives. His son is the tennis coach of Ohio State and also has a tennis camp. Mr. B. then talked about the forehand how important it is get the racquet back early. He says keep the left hand on the throat of the racquet and that it’s a vital part of the backhand as well. Mr. B stood at the net and Riley fed him balls, Mr. B. says its important for students to see the demo and imitate it…the demos were flawless, after the talk the adults were rearing to go!

The clay is tricky if you’re not used to it. I ran for a ball cross court and started sliding and almost turned my ankle. A few minutes later I saw Sanderson go down, it was like a big tree falling. He was trying to slide cross court and then tried to change directions to adjust to the ball. His ankle is purple and swollen to the size of a tennis ball. I stuck around after 4 and hit with the adult campers, all of them are so good that I got some great practice in. I’m so tired now that I can’t believe it. All of the counselors here are so friendly and all of them are just as passionate about the game.

The landscape here is so beautiful. To the west of the courts, beyond the windscreens is a corn field that stretches for miles to the foothills, its lush and green and has a country feel. When I’m out picking up tennis balls it feels like home, I look west and wonder what they’re doing in Idaho . I always hear the sound of plopping tennis balls and morning doves, in the distance I can smell the old tannery.

Morning June 13th, 1977

We showed up at 8:00 so we could get some hitting in. I hit with John Day, and we had a great hit with lots of deep balls and long rallies. I think we were all a bit nervous because of first day jitters. It was so dark and boreboding, but Mr. B was rearing to go.


Mr. B went to work and lectured us just like a college professor, it was mater of fact stuff, very simple teaching progressions. He emphasized stroke production and spotting errors. He is very much into fundamentals and 'lunch pail' common sense. he assured us that no one in the adult session was going to play on the pro tour and that we have to tailor our teaching to their needs and we have to be realistic yet tactful. He also took the time to tell a few stories about tennis and what its meant to his life. He said tennis will take you as far as you want to go, the only thing limiting us is us. He told us we are on our best behavior and we are never out of sight of anyone, and said that maybe we should remember that fact in our day to day lives.


Eric Riley then took the net while Mr. B. did demos of all the shots, everything was dead center with that perfect hitting sound, Riley's volleys were flawless and well placed, I have to say it was very intimidating.


Chris Russell Vick sat near by, shes from London and has a player sponsorship from Dunlop and she is a Mercersburg Academy Alumn; Becky Craft from Wellesley College sat next to her as well as Tom Sheridan from Georgia, Mark Sanderson from Plymouth State and John Day, I think all of our eyes were big as saucers. Ive done perhaps a couple dozen lessons in my life, I hope I measure up.

June 12th, 1977 (Evening)

After meeting with Sheridan and Riley; Mark Sanderson and I realized that there are a lot of rules, we will be teaching at least 6-7 hours a day and then there are night duties with the kids.Tom says that Mr. B will be watching us close and won’t hesitate sending anyone home for drinking around the kids, in fact If we don’t do a good job we can be sent home at any time. That sent a chill through the counselors, Mark and I are scared.

We played again and Sanderson beat me 6-3, he has a big serve and I can't handle it, even on clay. When we get into the rally Im fine, I can take the pace off the ball, hit a deep ball and then I have a chance.I hit with another counsellor, his name is Lenny and he is from Cambodia, he is rooming with a guy from New Rochelle, NY by the name of Mike Kuntz. He's the video guy and both he and Lenny are good hitters and both go to Iona college. While Lenny has classic ground strokes, Mike K. is very fast with excellent footwork. Everyone is good around here, almost all played on college tennis teams. I cant wait to play some of the other guys.

Mr. B is the absolute boss around here and is feared and admired, I’ve noticed that he is very direct and honest and he doesn’t hold back, Tom says if he is pissed he will let you know. Mr. B drives around in a sporty brown 280 Z and he is everywhere. Charlie Fenske speaks highly of Mr.B and so far I can see why, driving up here yesterday I hung on every word, this guy can tell a story. He has a thick New Jersey accent and plays with Wilson Jack Kramer racquets, as do I.

During the season I was playing with Head Masters, I had two frames. I had great power with the racquet but could not keep the ball in. I needed something with some control, so I started hitting with the Jack Kramer racquet; Im using a 5 5/8 medium and I really like the feel. I hope I can sell the Head Master racquet I brought along.I called my Mom I miss her a lot, I am hoping that she will send some cookies soon!It’s Saturday night in Fowle Hall, the guys are out watching TV in the lounge, Saturday Night Live doesn’t come on until 11:30, so we will have to wait a while. Tomorrow the adults will start arriving for the weeklong adult session. Counsellors Ive met so far are Tom, Lenny, Mike, John Day, Eric Riley, another Scottish guy by the name of Doug Hamilton. There's a cute gal from Canada here, her name is Pat Rountree and she's very cute, tall, auburn hair and smart as a whip!

June 12, 1977

To wake up on the Mercersburg Campus is a lot like waking up in heaven. The first thing you hear is the sound of birds chirping, then there is the sunlight streaming through the big maple trees and the smell of the wet dew in the grass. To the east the sun comes up early and with no curtains in our room it was imposible to sleep past 7-am. I was tired but woke up in the middle of the night because Mark Sanderson snores a bit! At 6'3 he barely fit in the bunk bed.

We got a room on the main floor of Fowle Hall on Sycamore Avenue. This is one of the underclassman dorms and during the year 95 boys live here, the dorm is very nice. Our room is the first room to the left off the lobby, theres a payphone on the wall and every now and then it rings with people on the other end asking for phantom and long departed students.

By 7:30 we were on the courts next to Nolde gymnasium. Part of the gym is ancient, built in the 20's the other part is new and the pool is spectacular, one of the finest I have seen on a campus, much better than Idaho State's pool complex.

Mark is a good hitter with a solid forehand and backhand, hes a bit slow and doesnt handle the short shots well...but he smashes his serve, just crushes the ball. He plays with a wood Spaulding, perhaps the worse wooden racquet out there, he does well despite the equipment.

We had a meeting at 9-am with the Head Counsellor Tom Sheridan, he is a tanned and blond and from Michigan, seems like a nice guy. He just graduated from the University of Georgia and has a car here! The assistant head counsellor is a guy from Scotland by the name of Eric Riley, I hear he is the Scottish champion and even played in Jr. Wimbledon. I saw him hit and he about the best player I have ever seen.

The town of Mercersburg is very beautiful with cobblestone sidewalks old mansions, it doesnt look as though things have changed much since the civil war, there are buildings from colonial times in the city square.

After lunch at the amazing Ford Hall we hit again on the clay, its so slow that I can easily hit with the hardest hitters, I have never had so much time to hit a ground stroke!

June 11th 1977

I have never flown on an airplane, never been to the east coat, never been anywhere. The world is a lot bigger than I thought and it's all very cool, but I lost my luggage. I had a great flight meeting a cute girl by the name of Pam on the flight from Lincoln, Nebraska and when we parted in Washington, D.C. she gave me a kiss on the cheek and wished me luck. I really like this flying thing!

Mr. Brennan met me in Haggerstown, he is a bit taller than me, in his 60's, big horn rimmed glasses and a booming voice with a New Jersey accent. We talked tennis all the way to Mercersburg the guy impressed me. We talked a lot about Billie Jean King and he told me how they met, and how he was drawn to her because of her competitive fire and how the family adopted her. He said as a coach you can only give so much to a player and then they have to take that information and apply it, he said with he knew right off she was a 'one in a million talent' and that you can't coach speed or god given talent, but 'you can tell them to hit their approach shots down the line.' He said modestly that it was all her, he just showed her a few things. We arrived at the Academy around sundown, the ivy covered buildings and the clay courts gives the the place a graceful ambiance.

Mr. B asked about me, I told him that I was the first of my family to go to college, that my Dad is a union pipefitter and my Mom works in a bakery, that I had always dreamed of playing tennis as a kid but we didnt have courts on the farm where we lived. In 8th grade Garth Kegel gave me his mom's old Elsworth Vines Wilson racquet and I learned by hitting against the wall. By my sophomore year I had made the Pocatello High Tennis Team. A year after high school I met former counselor Charlie Fenske and he asked if I wanted to walk on at Idaho State. I made the team and Charlie set me up.

It's a long way from ISU's Reed Gym Courts to here. Everything is green and old. I walked down to the courts, they're green Hard-tru the same surface as the U.S. Open. I have never played on clay. I found some linen and met a tall sandy haired guy by the name of Mark Sanderson, he is a counselor too and we decided to room together, he's from Plymouth College in New Hampshire. We got settled in and headed for bed. I have been up since 6-am its 11:30 now...

ISU Tennis Season Over. June 5th 1977

We just finished the Tennis season, after a great fall (12-3), we finished 4-16 in the spring with losses to Boise State, Montana, Utah State, Weber, Hayward, San Jose, USF, SF State. It was brutal.

I have been playing number 6 singles and had close matches with all the Big Sky teams but the California teams were another story, they are in a different Universe...especially Stanford, they have an amazing player by the name of Mitchell. It was great seeing them on our spring break trip.

Now that the season is over I landed a job back east. Coach Fenske called Frank Brennan, Billie Jean King's coach and got me a job teaching at the camp and working as a counselor at the Mercersburg Academy. Bobby Dickinson will also work there, Bobby played number one singles and number two doubles all season and won the MVP award. I was lucky enough to letter and that's pretty good for a freshman. I started every varsity match, it doesn't get much better.

I played Jim Hall this afternoon at the Reed Gym courts, the guy is giving me fits because he hits a lot of spin and he has a good lob, I managed to beat him 6-3,6-4. I tried to extend my 5 match win streak over Mike Zaladonis but he is no where to be found.