by Ed Toombs This week Mr Ed examines the economic troubles that are starting to bedevil pro tennis. We then hop back to courtside to appreciate the surprising play of Marlene Weingartner and Guillermo Coria, who left a trail of bedeviled opponents in their wake this week.
Real life economics are creating woes for many companies as well as ordinary people these days, as effects of a global slowdown are being felt. Now the facts of financial life are catching up to tennis.
The 21-year-old Marlene Weingartner, a German player who holds down the 60th spot in the rankings, was the surprise of the WTA competition in the genteel southern metropolis of Charleston this week. She accounted for three higher-ranked players, including two seeds -- Meghann Shaughnessy and Amanda Coetzer -- before being overpowered by Jennifer Capriati in the semis. Weingartner is a slender player who relies on placement and consistency. While she may not turn out to be the female reincarnation of Boris Becker, she is living in his apartment. No, Marlene has not replaced Boris's estranged wife Barbara in Becker's life. According to the Charleston Post and Courier, Weingartner inhabits the residence in which Becker lived as a young boy. The precocious success of 19-year-old Argentine Guillermo Coria, who reached the final four in Monte Carlo this week, should come as no surprise to Mr Ed's loyal readers. This column has sung his praises as early as 1999, when he was the brightest light on the junior circuit. This was the first chance a worldwide television audience had to see the stylish Coria at work, and the youngster gave them quite a show, even in his 6-4 6-2 loss to Gustavo Kuerten in the semifinal. The small, swift "Mini-Moya" (so called because of his facial resemblance to the Spanish star) notably impressed with his "soft hands": he continually befuddled his opponents with perfectly feathered drop shots. On several occasions in Monte Carlo, Coria performed a variation on the drop shot that has rarely been seen before. The Argentine drew his racquet back as if to perform yet another drop shot, causing his opponent to sprint like a madman toward the net. But the wily youngster instead drove a deep, hard slice past his totally confused adversary. With creative plays like the "fake drop shot", little wonder the Argentine press calls Guillermo Coria "El Mago" ("The Magician"). |