Sport: The Tennis Machine

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Laver was an expert practitioner during his prime in the '60s, and nearly every how-to book on tennis has many words on the subject. But most observers think Borg has mastered topspin as has no player since French noblemen developed the game in the Middle Ages.* As a result, he plays more of that crucial space above the net than anyone in the history of the game. Says Tennis Coach Vic Braden: "Bjorn can make the ball drop so fast it will untie your shoelaces. If you want to get back far enough to take it on the bounce, you've gotta call a cab."

What is most remarkable, however, is Borg's consistency. His strokes remain the same, whether it is match point at Wimbledon or a practice session at home in Monte Carlo. Altering the angle of the racquet face just 1° at the moment of impact can translate into as much as a 6-ft. difference in where the ball lands on the other side of the net. As a result, Borg never knows those secret fears so familiar to weekend hackers: "I hope he doesn't hit it to my backhand ..." On the contrary, Borg is confident that he can win any point with any stroke in his repertory: "I am never afraid to hit any of my shots."

Borg's most difficult matches, oddly enough, have not occurred during the pressure-packed finals of major tournaments. Instead, he is shakiest in the early rounds, "before I have a chance to get the feel of the court, the atmosphere of the tournament, the sense of my game." Ironically, his opening round opponent at Wimbledon is Egypt's Ismail El Shafei, 32, one of three players to beat Borg there. He eliminated the Swede in the third round of the 1974 Wimbledon.

Borg's closest call during his championship reign at Wimbledon came in the first round of the 1978 tournament, when towering (6 ft. 7 in.) Victor Amaya had him on the ropes. Amaya led two sets to one and had a 3-1 lead in the fourth set, but Borg came back to win. Says Amaya: "He looked as if he was spaced out, but all of a sudden he came to life. Sometimes he seems to go into limbo, and then he wakes up before the end."

Another of Borg's assets is his icy self-control. He rules his emotions so completely that so much as an on-court frown leaves fans and fellow players awestruck. In an exhibition match last year against Vitas Gerulaitis, Borg actually uttered a Swedish oath after missing a shot.

Gerulaitis dropped his racquet in amazement. Some 10,000 fans, grateful to be present at the miracle of the parting of Borg's lips, gave him a standing ovation. "Bjorn does have emotions, but he has a special talent for masking them," says Gerulaitis.

Says Nastase: "In the locker room he might not talk to anyone for an hour. They should send Borg to another planet. We play tennis. He plays something else."

Perhaps Borg's most effective weapon is his unbending determination. Tennis is not just a game, but a contest of wills comparable only to that between two prizefighters or a pitcher and a hitter. For all its elaborate etiquette, its hushed crowds and blazered officials, its serene and verdant settings, tennis is hand-to-hand combat. It is the sizzling serve that leaves an opponent unable to lift the racquet, the passing shot that crushes the spirit, the drop shot or lob that bounces and dies far beyond reach. In the closing games