The Last Champion. The Life of Fred Perry
Jo Mcguigan
Posted on: 22 February 2010 - 12:04
Tennis
During the 40 years since he first covered Wimbledon, Observer tennis correspondent Jon Henderson has followed more closely than most the cycles of fevered anticipation and bitter disappointment that characterise the British quest for a modern-day grand slam champion.
It is understandable then that Henderson has turned his attention to the story of our “last champion”, the man with the statue at Wimbledon and the laurel logo, Fred Perry.
The front cover of Henderson’s book shows an elegant Perry, decked out in crease-free white shirt and long trousers, striding across the lawns of SW19 to take a high backhand. The back cover shows a honed and tanned Perry, hair slicked back, six-pack rising out from a pair of belted bathing trunks, smiling as Marlene Dietrich gazes into his eyes.
The two shots succinctly capture the contradictions at the heart of the story of our greatest ever tennis player. A working-class boy who found himself at the top of a resolutely upper-class sport. The British hero who only felt truly at home across the Atlantic, seduced by Hollywood and seducing its stars.
Henderson’s biography recounts not just Perry’s sporting successes – from table tennis world champion aged 19 to triple Wimbledon champion aged 27 – but the highs and lows of his tumultuous personal life, with four marriages, three divorces and newspaper pages full of speculation.
From today’s success-starved perspective, the 1930s tennis authority’s refusal to accept their poster boy and inability to resolve the clash between amateur ideals and professional necessities strikes a sad chord. Perry’s thirst for travel and ultimate move to America tells of his adventurous spirit. It also, beneath it all, tells of an enforced exile from the country he loved.
Last year marked the centenary of Perry’s birth. It also marked the start of the first genuine period of expectation for British grand slam victory since Perry dazzled on the grass at Wimbledon. We have hoped for years, through the John Lloyds, the Greg Rusedskis and the Tim Henmans but not until Andy Murray’s maturing brilliance have we really dared to expect. The sense of anticipation that hangs over British tennis today gives a fitting backdrop for the story of our last golden era.
The author’s passion for the game shines through in the intricate descriptions of Perry’s on-court tussles. He does not shy away from revealing Perry’s ruthless competitiveness, his deployment of mind games, physical props and the odd spot of mid-match theatricality to send a highly-strung opponent over the edge.
Henderson resists the urge to romanticise Perry’s story, and the end result is all the better for it. The final sentence of the book quotes Tony Trabert, American tennis player and Wimbledon champion who spoke at Perry’s thanksgiving service after his death in 1995. Trabert talks of the day Perry walked into a locker room and said: “Thank God I’m not playing me today.”
A fitting encapsulation of the genius and the cheek that characterised our “last champion”.
Henderson’s biography, surprisingly, is the first written about Perry. It is a must for fans of tennis, of sport in general, and anyone interested in exploring what it is to be British.
The Last Champion. The Life of Fred Perry. By Jon Henderson.
Yellow Jersey Press. £18.99 hardback (May 2009) / £8.99 paperback (February 2010).