Twenty-four-year-old Wilmer Allison stunned the tennis world on June 28, 1930 by beating the defending singles title-holder in straight sets in the quarter-finals of Wimbledon.
An outstanding high school athlete in Fort Worth, Wilmer was thrilled to death when a Texas League team offered him a professional contract. But his father would not give his consent for his son to play any sport for money, and that was the end of a promising baseball career.
Turning to tennis at the ripe old age of 17, Wilmer quickly mastered the new game. In no time at all, he was clobbering kids who grew up thinking tennis elbow was a childhood ailment as common as measles.
Under the watchful eye of Dr. D.A. Penick, the University of Texas tennis coach, the late bloomer blossomed into the finest campus netter in the country. Capturing the intercollegiate crown, he was eager to give the international tour a try.
Big Bill Tilden, reigning ruler of the white-lined court, soon shattered the newcomer’s confidence. After giving Wilmer a humiliating lesson in the finer points of the game, he cruelly quipped, “He’s no good and never will be.”
Although the Texan continued to struggle as a solo performer, he fared far better in the two-man version. Paired with John Van Ryn, they won the Wimbledon doubles title in 1929 and again in 1930.
In what turned out to be their last meeting, Tilden eliminated Wilmer with embarrassing ease from the 1930 singles competition at Wimbledon. The subsequent defection of Big Bill to the play-for-pay circuit did not improve Wilmer’s chances since Fred Perry of Great Britain replaced Tilden as his personal nemesis.
As a perennial member of the American team, Wilmer wound up with a record of 32 Davis Cup matches to his credit. And if he had not been robbed at Paris in 1932, the total would have been 33.
Two hours into a grueling contest with a hometown favorite named Barotra, Wilmer reached match point for the third time. Exhausted by three tough matches in two days, he knew this was his last chance to put away his opponent.
But at that moment, in blatant violation of the continuous-play rule, Barotra motioned for a ball boy to bring him a new pair of shoes. As 12,000 French fans roared their approval, he slowly laced the sneakers and caught his breath.
When Barotra finally stepped to the line, he put his first serve in the net. An elated Wilmer watched the second serve sail beyond the baseline. Double fault!
Not so in the eyes of a partisan judge, who called the ball in and gave the point to his countryman. Barotra came back to take the match that rightfully belonged to the American, and Wilmer went into a two-year tailspin.
In the 1935 Wimbledon tournament, the Texan’s 31-year-old legs could not keep up with the ball. At an age when no one in tennis history had ever won a major championship, retirement seemed to be the sensible option. And he might have given up the game right then and there, if Tilden had not remarked with his customary candor, “Wilmer Allison is past his prime and his prime was nothing to wire your Aunt Bertha about.”
Returning to the States, Wilmer spent three weeks in Maine resting up for the U.S. Open. Big Bill’s widely publicized cheap shot had filled him with a fresh and fierce resolve to go out a winner.
In the quarter-finals, Wilmer demolished Enrique Maier in 50 fast-paced minutes conceding just ten games in three one-sided sets to the superb Spaniard. Awed by the flawless form and intensity of the rejuvenated Texan, everyone at courtside agreed it was a real shame he had drawn Fred Perry for the next round.
Five times Wilmer had met the number-one tennis player on the planet, and five times he had lost – badly. But not even the phenomenal Perry could derail destiny, and he too succumbed in straight sets.
Wilmer’s fans feared a natural letdown in the finals, but he was not about to settle for second place. Forty-eight minutes after the opening serve, he was crowned the undisputed king of American tennis.
Wilmer hung up his racket a year and half later in 1937. With nothing left to prove and hounded by injuries, he chose to get on with his life.
He spent the next two decades, except for military service in World War II, in Austin and enjoyed a successful career as a cotton broker. Then in 1957 he replaced his former mentor Dr. Penick as the UT tennis coach.
With Wilmer Allison in charge, the Longhorns were the cream of the Southwest Conference finishing no worse than third 14 out of 15 seasons. After all, who was better qualified to teach tennis and the cardinal rule of life never to quit no matter what!
The “Houston Press” and “Houstonia” magazine recently interviewed Bartee about his new book “Texas Boomtowns: A History of Blood and Oil.” You can read both interviews on his website barteehaile.com.
