The Scot Marie Stopes has one of the best defensive games in the business. American Marianne Moore mounted attack after attack and tried everything in the book but Stopes was impregnable.
An even bigger surprise was Kathy-Ann Porter’s demolition of Emmeline Pankhurst. Porter has been knocking on the door for a few years and she arrived in a big way out there today, serving powerfully and never giving the fifth seed a look-in. Pankhurst was as shocked as anyone. ‘I’m shocked,’ she said. ‘I’m probably as shocked as anyone.’
The Pavlova–Dietrich affair will be talked about for years. Marlene Dietrich, who left her native Germany as a junior and now plays mainly in the US, is deadly if the crowd gets behind her. This was always going to be interesting because the French crowd adores her but also loves the gifted Russian Anna Pavlova. And the more the crowd loved the match, the better it got. Pavlova’s court coverage is astounding and she has electrifying speed. Dietrich is nothing but ground strokes and with Pavlova in full stride all she could do was wait for the music to stop.
‘What could I do?’ said Dietrich. ‘I could do nothing. I was so tired.’
But Dietrich did do something. She slowed her game down even further. She hit the ball very late and low and she scorched her shots past Pavlova as she came in.
Pavlova was stunned. The fire went out of her game. She became meek and withdrawn. ‘I felt as if I was dying,’ she said. ‘The life was going out of me. It was ebbing away.’
Dietrich won the second set and carried all before her again in the third before Pavlova quite suddenly emerged from her chrysalis and began to build to a big finish. She was everywhere. She dashed from side to side like a dervish, she sprinted from the back court to the net and her overheads were breathtaking. In the end Dietrich stood in the fading light, hitting languid, low easy-looking drives, resigned to her fate.
‘Marlene looked great today,’ said Pavlova. ‘I was lucky to get on top of her.’
‘That reminds me,’ said Dietrich. ‘Is JFK here yet?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Tallulah Bankhead.
Day 9
Russell v. Dufy • Betjeman v. Bacon • Chaplin v. Le Corbusier • Keynes v. Ribeiro • Nabokov v. Miller • Conrad v. Graves • Rand v. Potter
In a big day for the Brits, Little Bertie Russell scampered through to the second round at the expense of well-supported local boy Raoul Dufy, losing concentration only once when confused by a call from the umpire overruling the baseline judge. The ball was called ‘out’. The central umpire called it good and gave the point to Dufy.
‘Pardon?’ said Russell.
‘I thought it was on the line,’ said the umpire.
‘Where?’ said Russell urgently, scanning the packed stand.
‘The ball was good,’ said the umpire.
‘The ball?’ said Russell, interested. ‘Can a ball be “good”?’
‘On the line is good.’
‘Where?’ said Russell, fiddling with his trousers.
English selectors were also pleased with the performance of John Betjeman, up against Francis Bacon, one of the youngest players here and a huge talent, if a bit unruly. ‘Oh, lovely play in the afternoon sun,’ said Betjeman as he put one across court. ‘Racquet-head up, hit through the ball, John. Well done. Lemonade soon. Feel it in those thigh muscles.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Bacon.
‘Sorry, talking to myself,’ said Betjeman.
‘Thighs?’ said Bacon.
And on Centre Court one of the few Englishmen openly adored by the French, Charles Chaplin, had an impressive win over Swiss-born French Davis Cup stalwart and veteran international Le Corbusier. When play started the partisan sections of the crowd began chanting their support for Corbu at one end and Charlot at the other. Corbu took the first set 6–3.
Initially nothing went right for Chaplin. Several times he turned himself over on the net, losing his racquet in the air and finishing on the ground on his opponent’s side of the net facing the wrong way. At 3–4 and 0–30 in the second set he upset the drinks station and brought a container of iced beverages down on his head. At later stages of the match his trousers fell down, often as he was reaching for difficult overheads. ‘Charlot! Charlot! Charlot!’ called the crowd as he grabbed the second and third sets 7–5, 6–3. Corbu won the fourth but the little man came back and took the fifth to a standing ovation. Roses were tossed on to the court.
England’s Maynard Keynes took an unusual tack on Court 6 this afternoon in his match with the very talented Portuguese leftie Aquilino Ribeiro. It annoyed Ribeiro that the Portuguese royal family was allocated one entire section at the southern end. ‘There are people out there who’ve been told there’s no seating available,’ he said, ‘and we’ve got some pomaded ape up here with the best view in the house. He’s been given thirty tickets! He only needs two! Let the people outside have the rest.’
‘I quite agree. Wait here,’ said Keynes, who went in search of the match referee.
‘They should be gassed like badgers,’ said Ribeiro quietly when Keynes came back.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’
As they watched, the king of Portugal was joined by a row of French peasants whose arrival was applauded by all and sundry.
‘How did you do that?’ asked Ribeiro.
‘I bought the other seats from him and sold them to the peasants.’
‘They haven’t got any money.’
‘They have now,’ said Keynes.
‘Where did they get it?’
‘I convinced the king to lend it to them.’
‘Why should he do that?’ asked Ribeiro.
‘He owns the drinks franchise, his company makes the
