that s it. new ball. shots are 2-2. got by him. comes back with it! you try to put your entire being mentally and physically on automatic pilot while you re playing tennis. everything is concentrated on the razor s edge and you forget the score. you forget where you are. you forget what your name is. i feel like my body s floating within myself. the game of tennis is a symphony in white. players in white suits hitting a white ball back and fort. in all white country clubs but a new, young player has come along and he is one of the greatest we have ever produced and he is not white. i sense confusion in what an athlete should be, especially an african american context. does still persist in the world about black athletes because we tend to do disproportionately well in athletes. i like to fight the myth. there are lots of us who can think as well as run, jump, hit tennis balls, dunk basketballs. and the challenge now is to convince young black athletes that the
U.s. open. this is my own country. my own backyard. forest hills. again i m the only black in the tournament so i found it felt important. i ll have trouble sleeping tonight. and i ll wake up very early tomorrow morning about 5:00 and first thing in my mind is seeing winners coming back at me at twice the speed. the first-ever u.s. open final ended up being played on a monday because of rain. surprisingly it was arthur ashe against the flying dutch marn. the big server against the flying dutchman. good afternoon. the first u.s. open. $100,000 in prize money. there was so much happening.