(2 of 2)
He hears almost as well as he sees -- and much of what he hears is unprintable. The decorum police at the governing bodies of tennis privately circulate a list of words in nine languages, the utterance of which would allow the umpire to give a player a warning. Two more such offenses, and the match is forfeit. The list, however, is incomplete. Last year at Wimbledon an alert TV viewer called in to tell the umpires that Goran Ivanisevic was not complimenting them on the fit of their blazers in Serbo-Croatian. Then there was the time Gangji summoned Anand Amritraj to the chair to tell him to cease swearing in Hindi. "But, Sultan, you and I are the only ones here who understand what I'm saying!" was the reply. Gangji shook his head and pointed out a group of Indian spectators in the stands.
Gangji had no trouble understanding the star player who insisted on calling him "Mr. Zanzibar." The player raced to the chair during one match after Gangji overruled a line judge and called a serve from his opponent good. To add insult to injury, Gangji also ruled the serve an ace. Then began the diatribe, a sanitized version of which follows:
"Do you know who my opponent is, Mr. Zanzibar? Do you know how fast my opponent serves, Mr. Zanzibar? Do you know that my opponent's serve goes only 55 m.p.h. and it would be impossible for him to ace me, Mr. Zanzibar?" "Play," said Gangji, not entirely sure he was right until he saw the replay later on TV.
By comparison his assignments at Wimbledon this week should be a cakewalk.
Unless he blows a call.