South America provides the world with some of the most scintillating sporting entertainment, but despite the continent’s natural affinity and enthusiasm for sport, this manifests itself primarily within the realms of football.
In both the men’s and women’s rankings, there is only one South American in the top 50, Argentine Juan Martin Del Potro. A perpetually injured but excellent Grand-Slam winner and Olympic silver-medallist, Del Potro has stood out in an era utterly dominated by the superhuman powers of Federer, Nadal and Djokovic. Del Potro has also been honoured in his homeland as a two-time winner of the Olimpia award, Argentina’s sports personality prize. He is a classic example of South America’s relationship with tennis, another sole star in his era representing the continent.
The fragile legacy of tennis in the region can be traced back two centuries. When the British settled in South America in the early 19th century, they brought along a number of sports and were quick to establish clubs. Cricket clubs, especially, began to appear in many of the major coastal capitals and cities, and Peru’s capital Lima was home to the Lima Cricket and Lawn Tennis Club. Both cricket and tennis were played in South America before football, but only by Europeans and local elites.
By the late 19th century, these sports had been somewhat usurped by football, a game that only requires something vaguely resembling a sphere. Football was played in the streets and favelas across the continent, and newly-independent nations that were struggling to find their post-colonial identity began to build one around football. Tennis and cricket, which had rarely left the confines of the exclusive clubs, were left to play second fiddle to the beautiful game.
Despite living in football’s shadow, tennis saw some staggered success across South America in the 20th century. Brazilian Bob Falkenburg won Wimbledon in 1948, before Peruvian Alex Omeldo won two Majors in 1959, becoming the country’s most revered tennis star. In the 70s, Argentine Guillermo Vilas won four Grand-Slams, and is still South America’s most successful tennis player, whilst compatriot Gabriele Sabatini dominated the women’s game in the early 90s. South American tennis has seen better days than now, but they have been few and far between in a continent with extreme poverty, a familiar barrier preventing the sport from growing.
In Lima, tennis courts are kept within the boundaries of clubs with membership costs that are unaffordable for most Peruvians. In Arequipa, Peru’s second city, well-kept clay courts can be seen and heard but only as part of a grand complex, attended only by the city’s richest, as well as ex-pats and tourists. The country does not have the luxury of recreational centres with public courts, and any space is used resourcefully for the familiar sight of two goalposts.
Whilst it is a common story to hear of footballers who played barefoot in the streets of the world’s poorest areas, there is a much more middle-class image of tennis. British stars Andy Murray and Tim Henman both came from privileged backgrounds, the latter having grown up with a court in his back garden. Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal also had standard middle-class childhoods. These are people who won’t feel alienated by Wimbledon’s dress code or deterred by the monthly club memberships. The requirements of a tennis upbringing are expensive; coaching, court-bookings, rackets, travel and tournaments. The immense cost needed to compete, currently afforded by a lucky few, has restricted the growth of tennis outside of the European and English-speaking world.
It has also stunted development inside that world. In the dry spell between Fred Perry and Andy Murray, the perception of tennis as a ‘posh sport’ was often quoted as the barrier to British success; not enough young people are taking up the sport because of the perceived social barriers. The same critics say that tennis is an elite sport and that elite sport is unfair, favouring those with financial strength rather than natural talent.
The South American stars are no exception. The aforementioned Peruvian Omeldo had the privilege of being coached in the United States, having attended the University of Southern California. Falkenberg too, had joint citizenship with Brazil and the US, and was raised in North America. Current Argentinian star Juan Martin Del Potro’s father is a veterinarian, and was also free from the poverty that surrounds the average citizen. Indeed, Argentina has an established middle-class, with a European ancestry and pride that has led it to engage with tennis quicker than its South America neighbours. It is no surprise then that most of the continent’s tennis stars originate from Argentina, a country that includes the supremely talented David Nalbandian, Gabriele Sabatini, Guillermo Cañas, Guillermo Coria, and Guilleremo Vilas, amongst its alumni.
However, the rest of South America has produced some fine tennis players in recent history, especially clay-court specialists. In the time since Sabatini’s dominance, Brazilian Gustavo Kuerten won three French Open titles, whilst Ecuadorian Andrés Goméz beat Andre Agassi to win at Roland Garos in 1990. Chile’s controversial Marcelo Rios is the only ever male player to reach world number one in 1998 without winning a slam.
Many South Americans also enjoy watching tennis, each round of this year’s Wimbledon was broadcast in even the most inconspicuous Peruvian restaurants and bars, with the summer slams benefitting from a lack of televised European football. The continent also shares the universal love of Federer, who plays tennis with the same technical beauty that South Americans demand of their football. Federer’s first visit to the continent as part of an incredibly lucrative exhibition tour in 2012 was completely sold out. The Swiss told the New York Times, “I’ve had more fans break down here than anywhere else in the world.” Naturally, he was the fan favourite in Argentina, despite playing against native Del Potro.
The desire and enthusiasm for the sport is certainly there. Although South American tennis has seen much brighter days, there are tennis-savvy fans who still want to watch the game and marvel at its best players. In 2018, the Rio Open will be a part of the ATP World Tour 500, joining four other locations in Latin America that belong to the 250 tour. The past decade has also seen a surge in South America’s middle-class population, concurrent with the emergence of shopping centres with western brands, arcades and cinemas.
There is certainly hope for tennis in South America, but it will be a while before a shift helps to establish a production line of stars to rival Europe. When the expense of playing limits a sport to a certain social class, then areas of the world largely lacking in that class are at a disadvantage in producing superstars. Even though the sport has an audience and an enthusiastic following, because so few stars emerging from South America, it is difficult to build a lasting legacy. Intermittent success built around a few exceptional individuals per decade is not enough to build a culture around a sport. As things stand, Argentina’s excellent Davis Cup win in 2016 may be just another peculiarity, not enough to stabilise a sport in the face of the continent’s fledgling economy.
South Americans have revolutionised football; the continent has provided European domestic football with some of the most exciting players ever to play the game. They come from a culture that encourages innovation in sport, and as a result their national sides have dominated international competition. It is thrilling to imagine the new talent, styles, and changes that could happen in tennis, were it to find solid ground in South America. Without such variety, the sport is less likely to evolve.
We have been blessed with the golden generation of the big four, supplemented by supreme talents like Stan Wawrinka and Del Potro, but the on-going domination of this era serves as a warning. There are no obvious candidates to fill the shoes of either Federer and Nadal, and a lengthy absence of such superstars can send a sport backwards. If tennis was more accessible in South America, and indeed, in Europe, it is much less likely we’d be dreading the end of this legendary generation.
