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Women at all levels of playing skill, and not a few tennis pros of both sexes, accuse the husband-player of as many sins as a bishop might curse with bell, book and candle. He is found guilty of coaching and poaching—i.e., taking shots from his wife's side of the court. Of preaching and reaching and teaching. Of cheating and bleating. Of serving too fast. Of serving too slow. Of hitting the ball right at his female opponent. Of not hitting the ball right at his female opponent. Of bad tennis, bad sportsmanship and, above all, a bad mouth. Women who attend Gallwey's classes have no trouble recognizing the angry voice of Self 1: it is their husband. They are poor Self 2. Such descriptive phrases as "cow," "fat banana" and "pregnant elephant" can be heard on the most elegant courts. "Move your ass" appears to be a not infrequent admonition—not to mention a stream of not so sotto voce expletives, four-letter words and hectoring commands: "Run! Run!" "Hit the ball. Hit the ball!" "Up! Up!" and, maddeningly above all for women partners, "Outta the way! I got it! I got it!" Even where the female partner is the more skilled, men seem to have a disconcerting habit of trying to remake her playing style to suit their own strengths and weaknesses.
The tense exchanges that result run to repetitive caricature, like mother-in-law jokes. "I felt like walking off and saying, 'Go ahead. Play the whole court.' " "My husband's favorite words are 'Shut up and hit the ball.' " Frosty silences can be plangent too. Carl Rowan remembers that when he used to play with his wife Vivien (a better player than he is), there were times when he did not dare look at her on the court. "I knew if I caught her eye, we'd spat." They get on better now because his game has improved. Ira Herrick, a suburban New York mixed-doubles player, remembers that once while playing with a woman, not his wife, he inadvertently cleared his throat. "Now don't you start in," she said, turning on him. "This is as bad as playing with my husband."
The serpents, of course, plead extenuating circumstances. Some men hate mixed-doubles play and endure it only when caught. "You could play it in your tuxedo," says one. Why? Because, so the argument goes, women are slow. Another excuse is that most women had a deprived childhood—i.e., they did not get to throw a ball much, which plays hob later with the motion needed for a good serve. Some men will blandly generalize, in the face of all history, that women lack that killer will to win. Others will argue that unlike men, who in doubles usually feel ashamed if they play at a level so far below that of other players that they ruin the game for everybody, women persist in trying to bridge impossible gaps in skill. Says Boston Columnist Jack Thomas: Women "are confused about equal rights and equal skills."