At Forest Hills

During the first few days of the National Tennis championship at Forest Hills (L. I.), spectators more knowing than those who come later in the week stroll about among the outside courts, comparing notes on familiar players, making a patter of applause that punctuates the cool syncopation of tennis balls bouncing against turf and strings. There was plenty of material for sideline talk last week. Ellsworth Vines Jr., defending his championship, and Henri Cochet, keyed to avenge the beating Vines gave him at Roland Garros stadium, had first-round byes. . . . Bunny Austin, England's No. i player, wearing a floppy white duck hat and a flaring pair of white flannel shorts, won his first match easily. Edward Burns Jr. of Brooklyn won the longest championship set of the day--20-18-- against E. D. Yeomans of last year's crack North Carolina team. . . . Richard Norris Williams II, national champion in 1914 and 1916, whose tennis is still beautiful to behold, had a good day against young Marco Hecht--8-6, 6-4, 6-4. . . . Frankie Parker, the Milwaukee 16-year-old, put out a wily Japanese, Sadakaza Onda, 6-3, 7-5, 6-1. . . .

Spectators at Forest Hills last week were well aware of Frankie Parker, most amazing tennis phenomenon of the year, who has four times this season beaten the No. 2 U. S. player, George Lott Jr. Most spectators knew that he had been tutored by Mercer Beasley, tennis coach at Tulane University and instructor at the Detroit Tennis Club. Beasley's other pupils-- Vines, Sutter, Carolyn Babcock--have done so well this year and last that Beasley has become the best known teacher in the history of U. S. tennis. Had he been at Forest Hills last week instead of in Detroit Teacher Beasley would have been vastly pleased to hear a major subject of last week's sideline chatter: Mercer Beasley and Mercer Beasley's teaching methods.

At Lawrenceville, where he went to school, Mercer Beasley used to play tennis with Karl Behr but it did not look as if the game would turn out to be his career. Even with Notlek Amusement Corp. in Manhattan which had vacant lots for skating in winter, tennis in the summer, Beasley's job as assistant manager had nothing to do with instruction. He took it upon himself to improve the calibre of Notlek tennis, was rewarded by an offer to become tennis coach at the Indian Hill Club in Winnetka, Ill. Said William Tatem Tilden II, when they met for the first time : "Beasley, there are two ways to get to the top. Be a wonderful player, which you cannot be; the other, study." Mercer Beasley, handicapped by poor eye sight, chose study. In 1928 he became coach at Tulane. Since then he has acquired an elaborate methodology, a Persian cat named Baron Kimura, such prestige that the Davis Cup team last spring wired him: "We wish there was some way of taking you with us we feel this would give us at least 20 per cent better chance of winning. . . ." Some Beasleyisms:

Of Beasley Methods: "I rarely change natural grips. . . . We find that if the pivot comes in, direction will follow if the racket follows in a line to where the ball is sent. . . . We try to have the footwork done ahead of time and then at the moment of hitting, perfect control, no falling over sideways, no off balance. . . . There is no lack of decision. The training calls for audible calling of where the ball is to be sent. We have used semaphores placed back of the player receiving the ball, the other fellow would follow the signals. . . . I do not allow more than 13 errors for any one set. . . . At Tulane we advocate and play basketball, we hit ten-nis balls with a golf stick from a cocoa mat on the tennis courts, we have the boxing instructor come down to the courts with boxing gloves and show the boys how to foot. We have the head football coach . . . we get the band out . . . we dance, keep moving and make every one of our varsity players work on one of our six practice boards. . . . There is a circle about one foot round they have to serve in. . . . My players must never grandstand a play, never make the kill when a soft accurate shot will suffice. Energy must be saved. No false steps, no excess movements. No jerks, no wild swinging and no brute strength. Just the cool calculating mind working the system, analytical, severe, fast, cruel and deadly. . . ."

Of Frankie Parker: "It was in 1927 that Frankie Parker came into my life. Little shaver, thin, puny, but quiet and attentive. . . . He had the best eye for a moving ball I've ever seen. . . . It took four years of the hardest work to get the boy's title. . . . Last year the wonder boy never lost a set. . . . He is to be the best of the pack."

Of Ellsworth Vines: "I found Ellsworth working in Kay's Bakery Shop in Pasadena. . . . He had a Western grip and a roundhouse swing, was about six feet tall and his feet wouldn't be friends with each other. But he had the heart and the willingness. . . . He was determined to hit hard . . . while I fretted over errors.

Of Beasley: "I cannot play tennis. . I understand the strokes . . . expect absolute attention and concentration . . . have now acquired an ego."

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