Quick Trip to Wicomico

Wicomico County, Maryland, is not exactly Wimbledon, which may explain why the world's top tennis players were in such a rush to get out of town last week. For the third year in a row, the Wicomico Youth and Civic Center was the site of the prestigious National Indoor Championships, and except for the Australians, who stayed home in the

Southern Hemisphere sun, tennis' big-name stars all put in an appearance. Dennis Ralston, the U.S.'s top amateur, was on hand, along with Negro Arthur Ashe, back from a triumphal tour of Australia. The foreign contingent included Spain's Manuel Santana, the world's No. 1-ranked player; Mexico's Rafael Osuna, the U.S. singles champion in 1963; and Sweden's Jan Erik Lundquist, who beat Ralston for the indoor title last year.

One after another, the stars breezed in, paid their respects, and left. Ralston double-faulted away his second-round match with Brazilian Left-Hander Tomas Koch. Santana lost in straight sets to a 28-year-old Wall Street lawyer named Gene Scott, and Lundquist duplicated the feat against California's 18-year-old Bobby Lutz. In the quarterfinals, Koch took care of the astonished Osuna, 6-3, 6-4. And then Cliff Drysdale, a South African cigarette salesman who hits backhands with his racket in both hands like a cricket bat, eliminated Ashe in straight sets, 6-3, 8-6. "I surprised myself," admitted Drysdale.

The most surprised player of all must have been Puerto Rico's Charles ("Charlito") Pasarell, 22, who scored 19 aces to beat Koch in the semifinals, found himself matched against Texas' Ron Holmberg in the final. A senior at U.C.L.A. (where he played No. 2 singles behind Ashe's No. 1), Pasarell had never reached the finals of a major tournament before. "I've beaten just about everybody in the world," he sighed. "Trouble is, I've lost to just about everybody too."

Erratic, unable to control his big first serve ("The Bomb," he reverently calls it) consistently, Pasarell seemed to be doing his best to lose to Holmberg, too, who was so obviously overweight that other players nicknamed him "Dallas Fats." "Oh, Charlie, come on now!" groaned Pasarell, as he belted a Holmberg lob clear out of the court. "Stupid!" he snarled, after netting an easy volley. The first set went to 22 games, the second to 18, and the third to 13 before the puffing Holmberg finally cracked. Rattling off five straight points, Pasarell won the match, 12-10, 10-8, 8-6, for his first major tournament victory.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.