(See Cover)
In the lexicon of champions, fun and games are strictly separate. Big-time tennis is fun to watch, but not to play. Two little rectangles of grassy ground one in a suburb of London, the other in a suburb of New York have seen more championship and less fun than any other spots in the world. Near one of those rectangles (not on it, for it was being kept sacred for the tournament), scores of intent young men, dressed in white shorts and short-sleeved shirts, were leaping, sprinting, and hitting the...
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