Loran Smith - Roland Garros

Loran

Smith

(Written last week before French Open Finals) – With the finals of the French Open coming up this weekend, I will arise on Saturday and embark to my basement office and salute the tricolor on my wall, insert a tape of accordion music into a cassette deck, open a bottle of Bordeaux, and placate my emotions with a flurry of sentimental reminiscing.

I will close my eyes and listen for the Maurice Chevalier’s suave voice singing, “I love Paris in the springtime.” It will never leave my consciousness. I mimic him (or try) in the shower. I often hear his voice at daybreak when the birds are engaged in their early morning symphony, and I hear him again when I take note of any reference to the Eiffel Tower and the “City of Lights.”

The times that I have been fortunate to take respite at Roland Garros for the second Grand Slam tennis tournament of the year are among the most memorable experiences of a lifetime of trave.

It is not just the best in tennis competition, certainly for the extraordinary fortnight in the spring, but there is also upscale fashion, spectacular beauty where clay courts are still in vogue, wine flows without ceasing, and Paris is all-encompassing.

Staying with a friend whose flat was virtually in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, I often walked to Roland Garros, which takes about 45 minutes, but I always turned it into something much more.

There are the coffee shops along the way and delightful bars, which open as early as 7:00 a.m. There is always accordion music in the background as you make your way to your destination.

At any point that you tire, you can always finish your journey via the Metro but walking the full distance brings about fulfillment, which is unequalled.

You are seeing everyday Paris at its best from a smiling constituency to abundant flowers to beauty in every from—from landscaping to stylish and chic dress to cafes where everybody greets everybody with an air kiss (both cheeks) as a chorus of Oui’s floods the atmosphere.

Walking to Roland Garros is such a unique experience comparable (and perhaps exceeding) a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge in New York or the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. Those are also unforgettable experiences but without coffee shops, bars and accordions.

At Roland Garros, the fans are passionate and never abandon their favorite. If a French player, such as Arthur Fils, makes the tournament lineup,allcontestantsbeware. The forecast is that he will be a consistent Grand Slam contender in the days ahead. The French, as it was last week, have no emotional restraint when his continued from page

name graces marquees.

When you spend time at Roland Garros, you can also find time to tour the museums and patronize those extraordinary sidewalk cafes. One simply cannot get enough of Paris this time of the year.

Out on the clay courts, which remind you of yesteryear in Georgia when clay was the preferred surface for tennis competition, this week you were reminded that things are depressingly different.

The venue has not changed. Paris may be a little different, but it has not changed. The Eifel Tower, which the French hate, has not changed and those sidewalk cafes and strolls by the Seine offer an avenue of breathlessness just like it has always been.

However, Americans do not dominate tennis as in the past. Roland Garros has always been a center of international activity over the years. There were times when you might have thought that the United Nations was meeting here.

“Worldwide, tennis is probably the third most popular sport in the world, but we lose so many potential tennis players to other sports in the U. S.,” says former Georgia tennis coach, Manuel Diaz. “Take Atlanta for example. Atlanta has more recreational tennis players than any city in the country. ALTA (Atlanta Lawn Tennis Association) is the leading tennis organization in the U. S., maybe the world, but a professional tournament here failed to make it. Everybody plays, but nobody goes to watch as it is in most other countries.”

While that is regrettable, I, nonetheless, appreciate the passion that the French have for the sport and their celebrated championship. My regret is that my time has passed, and I can no longer make an annual trip to Paris and not only enjoy the best in Grand Slam tennis competition, but the ancillary trimmings that Paris offers. Gee, how dazzling that was.