No one had a smooth and easy time at the US Open this year, certainly not the US Tennis Association. Still, a recurring theme in this report will be that the USTA is uniquely unsuited to give its sport the shot of adrenaline that it needs. Withal, the tennis itself is still a treat.

I made it to the Open twice this year, the first time on Friday, August 29 (when I had to leave early to get home in time for Sabbath) and Thursday, September 4 (when I caught a little over two hours of evening action with my last chance to use a Labor Day ticket that would otherwise go for naught). In other words, I caught only dribs and drabs, which seems appropriate for a year in which raindrops were the primary feature of the tournament.

On August 29, my wife, Joy, and I went out to Flushing Meadow with our friends Tom Mullen and Mark Weiner, as well as Tom's son, Max. Max's big accomplishment of the day, achieved after we parted ways, was taking a close-up picture of a non-participant in this year's Open, Miss Anna Kournikova.

I began the day on Ashe, which remains lamentably huge, with the vast bulk of seats - even our fairly good box seats - kept a yawning distance from the court by the stack of luxury boxes. (I said this report would not be kind to the USTA, and the design flaws of Ashe are a big negative for the Association.) I stayed for three games of Lindsay Davenport pulverizing Melinda Czink of Hungary and felt free to move on. Czink, a lefty, seemed lost at net, and she apparently didn't do much better anywhere else, since Davenport prevailed 6-0 6-2. Clarisa Fernandez and Lisa Raymond must have been kicking themselves for losing to Czink.

I repaired to Armstrong, where David Nalbandian was taking on the Finnish lefty Jarkko Niemenin. Tennis fans have seen Nalbandian, but Niemenin is less well-known. He has an appealing style, rallying comfortably and - at his best - suddenly unleashing a screaming groundstroke.

As I arrived, Nalbandian had just failed to serve out the first set at 5-3. Niemenin got on a roll, winning the first set, 7-5, and breaking for a 1-0 lead in the second. Nalbandian is not a big hitter under the best of circumstances, which makes one wonder how he made a Wimbledon final. On the other hand, he is crafty and can do a lot with his backhand, which might explain why he did so well at Wimbledon 2002 and, indeed, at this US Open. Considering that he reached the semifinals and, there, match point against the eventual champion, you have to conclude that Nalbandian is no fluke.

Nalbandian broke back for 1-1 in the second when Niemenin double-faulted twice. Nalbandian broke again for a 4-2 lead and served out the set at 6-3. At this point, I got evicted from my good seat behind the court in Armstrong. It seems that this year the USTA has seen fit to make all the seats in that location reserved, further diminishing the tennis fan's experience. This seemed especially ill advised when there were so many empty seats in Armstrong. (By my September 4 visit, this limitation had apparently been abandoned, perhaps because the USTA deemed it wise to recoup a little good will from its patrons.) I know Wimbledon sells separate tickets for the Stadium and Court 1, but Wimbledon can get away with treating its fans badly.

Joy - the person, not the phenomenon - arrived early in the third set. Nalbandian broke serve to open the set and Niemenin squandered a 40-0 lead at 0-2 and was broken again on a double-fault. Nalbandian cruised through the set, 6-1, and Niemenin also had a visit from the trainer. Joy and I gave up on this match and moved to Ashe. This was a mistake, since Niemenin came back to win the fourth set, 6-4. The match ultimately went to a fifth-set tiebreak, which Nalbandian won, 7-3.

When we got to the stadium, Sargis Sargsian was serving at 3-6 2-6 to James Blake. Sargsian, a 30-year-old Armenian, used to spell his name "Sargisian," and that's how it is pronounced. I have no idea why the spelling changed. Of course, Blake is a favorite of the New York fans, and he had a substantial cheering section of folks dressed up in red, white, and blue, with netting on their caps, or alternatively with faux dreadlocks. These fans also serenaded Blake with various tunes and seemed to be having a great time. Sargsian was not without supporters. All the way at the top of the stadium, a contingent waving Armenian flags paid tribute to their man, singing a soccer-style tune of "Sargo, Sargo."

The second set seesawed. Sargsian broke for 4-3; Blake broke back for 4-4. After Blake held for 5-4, he had four break (and set) points on Sargsian's serve. The fourth was the charm, and a disgusted Sargsian hit a ball into the stands.

In the third set, too, Sargsian squandered a break. He went up 2-1, only to have Blake break back for 2-2. This time, Sargsian - a great retriever who does not hit terribly hard - showed some mettle. He broke for 4-3 and served the set out, 6-4. (At this point, the scoreboard told us that Nalbandian and Niemenin stood at 4-4 in the fifth set.)

Sargsian reached the verge of leveling the match, as he broke Blake at love at 4-4 in the fourth set. But he fell behind 15-40 on his serve, and Blake executed a backhand pass down the line to break back for 5-5. The players ended up in a tiebreak, which Blake led, 6-3. Sargsian fought off the first two match points on his own serve, and a third when Blake hit a backhand wide. At 6-6, Sargsian missed a volley and, in disgust, shattered his racquet. No penalty was assessed; it was probably penalty enough for Sargsian that he would have to receive serve on match point with a new racquet. Blake held his service point and won the match.

Joy went home, and my next stop was Court 7, where Ivo Karlovic (pictured at right) was leading Hicham Arazi, 3-6 7-6 7-6. Karlovic, a qualifier, is a nightmare to play, as Lleyton Hewitt can attest, having lost to him in the first round of Wimbledon this year. He is a lanky 6'10" and serves out of a tree, with the second serve nearly as hard as the first. He is also a very limited player - I didn't see him hit a single topspin backhand, and his forehand was shaky, too - but his size and his serve are enough to make it a miserable day at the office for most opponents. Arazi is more than a foot shorter than Karlovic. He is a stylish lefty recovering from an injury-induced slump, and now his head is nearly shaved.

The fourth set went to a tiebreak, which Karlovic opened with a double-fault. Karlovic recovered the mini-break when Arazi served at 4-2 and missed a passing shot. Karlovic followed up with a service winner and an ace to lead 5-4. He missed an easy forehand to fall back to 5-5 and then netted a backhand service return to give Arazi set point. At 5-6, Karlovic hit a huge second serve and eventually won the point when Arazi put a backhand pass into the net. The players changed ends again at 6-6, with Arazi's many partisans shouting "Hicham."

Karlovic struck a big serve to go up 7-6 and get to match point. On his own serve, Arazi hit an easy forehand long, and the match was over. A frustrated Arazi broke his racquet.

The match statistics give you an idea of what Karlovic is like. He led Arazi in aces, 30 to 3, and in double-faults, 14 to 1. He also won only 139 points, to Arazi's 142:

I then ambled over to Court 6, catching the end of the decisive third set of a doubles match between the Aussies Wayne Arthurs and Paul Hanley (seeded fifth) and the ancient Americans Rick Leach (who first played the US Open in 1982 will be 39 in December) and Brian MacPhie (who began at the Open in 1989 and is merely 31). For trivia buffs, MacPhie lives in San Clemente, California, home to Nixon's western White House. Hanley, not quite 26, was the lad of the quartet - Arthurs is 32 - and the only righty on the court. Arthurs and Hanley, who frequently used the "I" formation when Hanley served, prevailed, 6-3 1-6 6-3.

I caught a glimpse of Alicia Molik in the last moments of her three-set loss to Paola Suarez on Court 11. The choice then was whether to wait on line to get into the Grandstand to see Younes El Aynaoui against the Spanish prodigy Rafael Nadal or to climb to the top of Armstrong to see Roger Federer against Jean-René Lisnard. I opted for the latter, as many others did: soon enough there was a recurring PA announcement to the effect that Armstrong was full and no further spectators would be allowed in.

Lisnard was surprisingly powerful for a fellow 5'7" and 145 pounds, and he was not afraid to play the net. He also has a one-handed topspin backhand, which was sort of surprising for a player his size. What he didn't have was anything approaching Federer's talent. When I had to leave, Federer was up 4-1 in the first, and he cruised, 6-1 6-2 6-0.

On Monday, Joy and I hoped to use our grounds passes when the weather cleared, but it never really did. (Nor would it for some time.) The USTA ultimately decided that Monday tickets could be used on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. It did not permit an exchange of those tickets for similar tickets next year, presumably because Jennifer Capriati barely finished her match against Elena Dementieva, so the day session was deemed concluded. This seemed to me pretty unfair, because no matches were completed on the field courts on Monday, so our tickets would not have entitled us to see even one match. (The only other match finished on Monday was Justine Henin-Hardenne's win over Dinara Safina, and that counted as a night match.)

After a week full of rain, I took the last opportunity to use our Monday tickets late on Thursday. Joy couldn't make it, so I went with our 10-year-old friend Gabriel. We arrived at the front gate at around 7:00 p.m., and we hung out till a little after 9:30, at which point I decided I'd better get this young man back home so that he would not be a zombie in school the next day.

We began on Armstrong, where we saw Todd Martin, having broken for 6-5, serve out the fourth set of his fourth-round match against Juan Carlos Ferrero. This brought Martin back all the way from two sets down, and perhaps he was ready for another vintage US Open comeback. Meanwhile, the Goodyear blimp floated above us, flashing the words NO, MORE, and RAIN.

Serving at 2-3 in the fifth, Martin fell behind 0-30 when Ferrero passed him twice. Martin scratched back to 15-30 when Ferrero missed a passing shot, but then Martin hit a backhand volley over the baseline, and Ferrero had two break points. At 15-40, Martin came in behind his second serve. He let Ferrero's return go, hoping it would be long. It was on the line, giving Ferrero the critical break. Ultimately, Ferrero served for the match at 5-3. There was a long rally at 15-0, which ended when Martin netted a forehand. At 30-15, Martin's backhand pass clipped the tape and went wide. Ferrero needed only one match point: Martin lobbed long.

Martin was a gracious loser, staying to sign autographs, including a signature on the oversize tennis ball that Gabriel had purchased. Gabriel nabbed Ferrero's autograph, too.

We moved around and tried to get onto Court 7, to no avail. The stands were packed for Younes El Aynaoui's match against Carlos Moya. We saw a little of the action from the walkway on the open side of the court, but even there the spectators were three or four deep. Eventually, El Aynaoui prevailed 7-6 7-6 4-6 6-4.

So Gabriel and I went to Court 10, where we were able to get a look at the fourth set of Sjeng Schalken beating Rainer Schuettler, 6-1 4-6 6-3 6-4. Schalken was serving almost flat-footed and barely topped 100 mph. In fact, the match statistics say that he averaged 99 mph on first serve:

A quick perusal of Schalken's other matches shows similar serving speeds, which is surprising for a player as tall as he. But he's got powerful groundstrokes and he's used to playing the second week of major events.

After the Schuettler match, Schalken changed into a gray sweatshirt, which quickly became spotted with perspiration. He stayed for a long interview with Dutch TV and then signed autographs, including one on Gabriel's tennis ball. Schalken borrowed Gabriel's marker to sign a good ten or twelve other autographs. (Schuettler scooted off the court immediately after the match ended.)

Gabriel and I had a problem. We couldn't go to Ashe with our grounds passes, and there were heavy crowds for the remaining singles matches such as Moya-El Aynaoui. So we thought we'd be smart and stake out great seats behind Court 10 for the doubles match that was sure to follow. After all, after Schalken's victory, the grounds crew quickly replaced the singles net with a doubles net. What's more, a full complement of linesmen and ballboys came out to Court 10, with the umpire measuring the net and making sure the lines were straight. Every couple of minutes, a fan would wander by and ask one of the linesmen which match would be next on this court. The linesman would shrug and say he didn't know. There was a good reason for this doubt: there was to be no match on Court 10. After about 15 minutes, the umpire and her crew threw in the towel (towels being all the rage this year at the Open) and left.

After this foul-up, Gabriel and I spent a few minutes on Court 8, watching the sixth-seeded team of Janette Husarova and Leos Friedl play a mixed doubles quarterfinal against Liezel Huber and Pavel Vizner. Friedl has played five main tour singles matches, none of them in Grand Slam events, in his career. But he's a Top 30 player in doubles and, in 2001, he won the Wimbledon mixed doubles title with Daniela Hantuchova. At Wimbledon this year, Friedl's partner was one of his opponents tonight, Huber. I didn't know that at the time, and Gabriel and I didn't stay long enough to get into the Peyton Place aspects of the situation. (By the way, Husarova and Friedl won, 7-5 6-4.)

Instead, off we went to Armstrong, to see the eventual women's singles champion, Justine Henin-Hardenne, pictured at right, in her quarterfinal victory over Anastasia Myskina. When we got to the stadium, there was a long line to get in. Gabriel, far more savvy than I, suggested we walk up the stairway between Armstrong and the Grandstand, then come down through the top of Armstrong. We did that, and it worked. (By the way, the Grandstand was out of action on September 4 because, we later learned, it had flooded with groundwater.) Eventually, we worked our way down to the box seats, with Gabriel in the front row. After all the rain and all the frustration, the rules were out the window.

Myskina is talented, and she was rooted on by a Russian-speaking contingent a few feet away from us, but she is not in Henin-Hardenne's league, and she repeatedly lost her temper. We stayed to watch the first set, which Henin-Hardenne won 6-2. She took the second, 6-3, as we were on our way home. Henin-Hardenne's backhand gets all the press, and rightly so, but her forehand is nothing to sneeze at, she serves with authority, she is not afraid to come forward, and she moves gracefully. All in all, she's a pleasure to watch and a deserving champion. Now if only the USTA solons could get their act together....

If you want to see some of my pictures from this year's US Open, you may check them out here. Or ask me for a more complete set, which I can forward to you via Snapfish.