WATSON WASHBURN
In contrast to Murray, Watson Washburn plays
a cool, never-hurried, never-flurried game that is
unique in American tennis.
There is little that is noteworthy of Washburn's
game. His service is a well-placed slice. His ground
strokes are a peculiar "wrist-slap," almost a slice.
His volleying fair, his overhead steady but not remarkable.
Just a good game, well rounded but not
unique. Why is. Washburn great? Because, behind
the big round glasses that are the main feature
of Washburn on the tennis court, is a brain of the
first water, directing and developing that all-round
game. There is no more brilliant student of men
in games than Washburn, and his persistence of attack
is second only to Brookes'.
Washburn, too, is a popular player, but not in the
same sense as Murray. Murray appeals to the
imagination of the crowd, Washburn to its academic
instincts. Washburn is a strategist, working out
his match with mathematical exactness, and always
checking up his men as he goes along.
There is no tennis player whose psychology I
admire more than Washburn's. He is never beaten
until the last point is played, and he is always
dangerous, no matter how great a lead you hold over
him.
Another case of the second-class game being made
first class, but this time it is done by mental brilliancy.
