Mr. Ed's Champs & Chumps (January 26, 2002)
by Ed Zafian



For the 2002 debut column of "Champs & Chumps," we will focus on the "Chumps" of the Australian Open. There was plenty of "Champ" material from the wide-open men's competition (with a number of nail-biting five setters in the later stages) to new faces on the women's side (the smile-inducing last name of Greek Eleni Daniilidou jumps to mind). But isn't "Chumps" a little bit more fun anyway?


Special All Chumps Edition


In his still young career, Andy Roddick already seems to becoming the male equivalent of the Williams sisters - tremendous talent and potential betrayed by a fragile body. Similar to last year's French Open, the 19-year old American twisted an ankle which sent him to the sidelines in his self-proclaimed first "big boys" Melbourne main draw appearance. While his enthusiasm for the game is contagious, his near-tears whimpering after yet another injury wore thin for me this time around. It was like looking at a puppy that was banished to the backyard. Roddick and his camp need to regroup and look towards preventative health measures or perhaps work on the footwork. Could be that the lanky teenager's body is still doing some growing as well. Additionally, with his blistering serve one has to wonder what the long-term effect will be on the shoulders of the American. There is no doubt that we will be talking about Roddick for years to come, but I just hope that Roddick's sophomore season is not off to inauspicious start.

It was Mars vs. Venus in Melbourne. No, this has nothing to do a match featuring Ms. Williams, but the re-emergence of the verbal battle of the sexes between the tours. The surly Marcelo Rios opened up the increasingly tired "dialogue." The Chilean initially called the easy early round victories scored by the top seeded women "ridiculous" and further clarified it as "a joke" in a later press conference. Martina Hingis lobbed back that the men did not consistently bring their "A" game to the court, while Jennifer Capriati simply replied "stupidity really deserves no answer." So while tennis's version of "sticks and stones" gives the media plenty to munch on, there are two undeniable truths in tennis these days. Though improving, women's tennis clearly does not have the depth of men's tennis but (and perhaps more importantly) when it comes to overall interest, the women are far ahead of the game. I would bet plenty of weak Australian dollars that advertisers and television stations are a lot happier about the Capriati-Hingis than the Safin-Johannson final. Darren Cahill, ex-coach of Lleyton Hewitt, chimed in in defense of Rios "He didn't say the girls cannot play, he didn't say they were overpaid?nor did he say they are lazy and overweight, like Richard Krajicek did so infamously at Wimbledon a decade ago." Ah progress, so look on the bright side "girls"!

Just when you thought it was safe to turn on American televisions and enjoy the only Slam of the year where he is not a commentator, John McEnroe was back on the tube in a brand new role. During the first week of the Australian Open, a new game show called "The Chair" (insert dramatic but cheesy music) debuted with Johnny Mac as master of ceremonies. For those of you unfamiliar with the show or outside the US, this show is similar to "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" where contestants are asked questions in hopes of walking away with up to $250,000. The twist? Contestants are strapped into a dentist-like chair and their heart rate monitored. They must answer questions while keeping their heart rate under a specified level (which declines as the show progresses and the questions get increasingly more difficult!). In addition, they are subjected to two "heart stopper" rounds. This could consist of flames jumping up around the chair or an alligator being dangled inches from the contestant's face. Contestants lose money if their heart rate gets out of control during questioning or these "heart stopppers." Admittedly having the emotional McEnroe as host is an interesting choice, but the mere sound of his voice would be enough to increase my own heart rate. I predict a short life for this latest addition to what is now being called "torture" television. And yes Johnny, I am very serious.


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