Tennis: A 12th for Harry

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Newspapers call him "High Priest Harry" and "Little Hitler," and a writer who has been trailing him around for years says, "You really have to know Harry Hopman to dislike him properly. You've heard of bad losers? Harry is a bad winner."

At least he is a winner. Last week in Cleveland, Harry Hopman's Aussies walked off with tennis' top trophy, the Davis Cup, by beating the U.S., three matches to two. To be sure, that was not precisely the way Captain Hopman, 58, had planned it. "We'll win 4-1," he predicted before the challenge round started — but after the first two singles and the doubles, the upstart Americans led 2-1. Then came the crucial match between Australia's Fred Stolle, 26, and the U.S.'s talented and temperamental Dennis Ralston. Last year, when the U.S. beat Australia 3-2 in Melbourne, Hopman was criticized for leaving Stolle off the team, playing young John Newcombe instead. Now the snipers were shooting again. "Stolle is too inexperienced," they said. "He can't take the pressure.

"Get Someone Like Me." For a while, it looked as though they were right. With the match tied at two sets apiece, Ralston broke through Stolle's service for a 2-1 lead in the fifth set, needed only to hold his own serve the rest of the way to sew up the cup. Sighing, Stolle sank into a chair at courtside while Hopman hovered over him, whispering furiously in his ear. What he said has been lost to history. But Stolle nodded, stalked onto the court, and broke Ralston's serve right back—with a perfectly placed lob that landed smack on the base line for the winning point. After that, Ralston seemed to collapse; Stolle quickly ran out the set for a 7-5, 6-3, 3-6, 9-11, 6-4 victory. Next day, as expected, Roy Emerson polished off Chuck McKinley, 3-6, 6-2, 6-4, 6-4—and the Davis Cup was on its way back to Australia.

Captain Hopman accepted congratulations with customary modesty. "We expect to keep the cup awhile," he said. If the Yanks wanted to win it back, they had better "get someone like me to take charge." That was enough to make any aspiring U.S. Davis Cupper shudder. Hopman runs his team like a Marine sergeant bossing the brig. He puts his players through punishing four-hour practice sessions, fills their spare-time hours with such joys as cross-country runs and weight lifting. With younger players, he dictates menus, bedtimes, social activities. "Don't forget," Hopman explains, "these boys are in their late teens. They need guidance."

For minor infractions (unshined shoes, using the wrong fork), Cap'n Hop's punishment may be a fine. But for big ones, it's often off to Coventry: Ken Rosewall, who played on four Aussie Davis Cup teams, says that Harry has not even said hello to him since he turned pro in 1957.

Arguing with Success. Hopman's testiness does not endear him to his players —or to anyone else, for that matter. There are some, even, who claim that his reputation as a tennis tactician is grossly inflated. "The only instructions we were ever given were 'Go for the lines' and 'Relax,'" says Lew Hoad, who also played on four of Hopman's Davis Cup squads.