Sport: Advantage Kramer

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He plays tennis the way Joe Louis stalks an opponent in the ring. He is always boring in, always making the other fellow feel he is doomed unless he does something tremendous. Both his backhand and forehand carry deceptive depth and pace. All who play against him have the same complaint: "He makes you feel like you are backing up and backing up until you can't back up any farther." And at that point, Jake has most likely worked his way forward to the net for the clincher. Says he: "After a forcing shot, the odds of clinching a point at the net are 8-1 in your favor." He is a thoughtful young man, according to his lights, and he plays percentage tennis.

The cornerstone of Kramer's championship game is confidence. In varying degrees all champions must have a deep belief in themselves. Henri Cochet and Fred Perry had plenty of it; Tilden, the prissy virtuoso, had it to an insolent degree. It is the same quality that enabled Babe Ruth to point to the right-field bleachers at Wrigley Field during one World Series game and slam the most famed home run of his career.

Winning Shots. Kramer is always certain that he will win. His attitude: "When a guy runs up a lead on me, I'm surprised. ... I think he's either playing over his head, or lucky." This kind of confidence has to be acquired early and then be cultivated. Kramer won his first big tournament (the National Boys' crown) at 15. Frank Parker was a winner at 14, Riggs at 13, Budge at 15.

To back up his winning attitude, Big Jake has a winning service. He hits three types of serve—flat, slice, high-bounce—each with equal skill and confidence. His service never sizzles over the net with the brute force of Bob Falkenburg's cannonball smashes, but players agree that Kramer's is harder to handle, and he gets his share of service aces.

Big Jake has complete confidence in his "big service." He is so sure of it that he plans to break through his opponent's serve only once each set. The exception: when the opponent has a weak serve which can be broken without any extra effort. His one & only stroke weakness used to be a backhand that was too flat, but he worked on it patiently, finally got it steadied down until it was as effective as his forehand.

Opponents' weaknesses don't interest him. For one thing, "good players seldom have a real weakness," says Big Jake, who concentrates on putting his own best foot forward: "I always play my own strength, which is to the far right corner." This is the kind of positiveness that has made him a champion.

Hot-tempered, 150-lb. Ted Schroeder, who is Jake's best friend and No. 2 man on the U.S. Davis Cup team, has it too 8#151;but not the way Jake has. They are both the same age (Schroeder is eleven days older), both products of California's humming tennis factory. Kramer's eight-month-old son is named for .Ted, and Schroeder calls his baby boy Little John.