The Life of Tony Trabert
Part 6

Mark Winters

As my tennis writing assignments increased, I regularly attended the US Open. Whether it was at Forest Hills or at the National Tennis Center (before Billie Jean King's name was attached) in Flushing Meadow, I was able to spend time with Trabert and Pat Summerall. The last year the tournament was played at the Westside Tennis Club in 1977 offers some wonderful recollections.

Tony and Pat's friendship went beyond their time in the broadcast booth. On an afternoon during the first week of the tournament, I caught up with them just after they finished broadcasting a match, played on the 14,000 seat-center court. I had been watching the contest and Tony caught my eye as they were signing-off and signaled to meet them at the bottom of the stairs behind the booth.

Four Boys

As they came down from their perch, four boys, who appeared to be between 10 and 12-years-old, came running up. Being true to their youth, they bounced around anxiously waiting for their heroes.

Clutching their autograph books and ballpoint pens, they jockeyed for position. Their leader, speaking in a loud voice that was a cross between Vinnie Barbarino's “Welcome Back, Kotter" character and Barbra Streisand's Brooklynese, began yelling, “Toe-nee, Toe-nee, ma matha luvs yuh… Pa't, Pa't yuh wer'ah dah best kick-a dah Ji'ants (He played football for the New York Giants) eva hadt…" Trabert signed for the first boy who moved to Summerall while boy number two attacked Tony.

We had been planning to get a quick snack because they had matches to call later in the day. Watching the autograph interaction, I started to back away. As I did, the leader of the boys spotted me and figured since I was with Tony and Pat, I must be somebody.

Realizing that he was coming toward me I began to backup more quickly. Either I was slow, or he was very anxious to add another autograph to his collection. All of sudden he was on top of me thrusting his autograph book in my face.

I told him he didn't want my autograph. I wasn't anyone of importance… and continued to backpedal. I glanced at Tony who was signing for the third boy, and he looked over at me, smiled and gave me a – Go ahead – nod.

Embarrassed, I took the book and ballpoint and signed my name. By that time, the second boy was on top of me, and I began to sign again.

Who Dah Hell Are Yuh?

In the meantime, the kid who had Tony and Pat's autographs on separate pages in his book turned to mine, looked at it and bellowed – “Mak Win'tah, Hay, Who Dah Hell Ah Yuh?" He then took the page I had signed, ripped it out of his book, tore it into tiny pieces and threw them back at me.

By the time my shredded autograph hit the ground, I had begun to laugh. I laughed so hard that I had tears running down my checks.

This happened at the end of the first week of the tournament. During the rest of the event, if we were alone after our conversation had ended, Tony would quietly say – “Hay, Who Dah Hell Ah' Yuh?" And it still makes me chuckle.

Trabert first played the US National Championships just after he turned 18 in 1948. He reached the third-round losing to Earl Cochell, the No. 9 seed, 6-0, 6-3, 3-6, 6-4.

A mention aside, three years later in 1951 the talented but behaviorally erratic Cochell was suspended for life by the USLTA after a multitude of incidents in a 4-6, 6-2, 6-1, 6-2 fourth round match he lost to Gardnar Mulloy.

During his amateur career, Trabert competed at Forest Hills seven times. By 1977, the exclusive Westside Tennis Club, located in a well-to-do neighborhood, had established a tradition. It had hosted the championships for more than 60 years. But the facility had become antiquated and didn't have the necessary adjacent property to become a site capable of hosting the expanding Open.