Real tennis?
Forget Wimbledon, this is how the game used to be played, offering a celebral as well as a physical challenge, as Gabriel Stone explains
NAME a sport at which someone in their late forties can consistently beat a 20-year-old at the highest level; experience can outmanoeuvre youthful vigour; and battles are often waged against the backdrop of some of Britain’s most historic houses. Eventing springs to mind but for a steadily growing band of obsessives the answer is “real tennis”.
Many people will have stumbled across this quirky, intriguing game, perhaps while on the tourist trail at Hampton Court, as prospective parents around Canford School in Dorset or maybe even taking a wrong turn after a good picnic at Lord’s. What few realise as they peer into this cloistered world of tambours, grills and dedans, embellished with antiquated racquets and a fiendishly medieval rulebook, is that real tennis is no relic but a thriving sport.
By far the most prominent practitioner today is Rob Fahey, a chipper 48-year-old Tasmanian who, until this year, had successfully defended his World Champion title since taking it for the first time back in 1994. Speaking just ahead of the 2016 World Championships in Newport, Rhode Island – the game also has a home in the US, France and Australia – Fahey insists that his competitive spirit remains undimmed. But is spirit enough when your opponent, in this case American left-hander Camden Riviere, is almost 20 years younger and the format is a brutal best of 13 sets played, if necessary, over three days? The answer, it turns out, is not quite: 10 days later Riviere would go on to defeat Fahey by seven sets to two.
Despite this dramatic dethroning, Fahey would probably still stand by his observation that “being older is not as big a disadvantage as in other games”. Although no slouch on the fitness front, this is a man whose star quality and longevity ultimately derive from his unrivalled understanding of a sport that demands brains as much, if not more, than brawn. “Because it’s a walled game the court is a little bit of a funnel,” outlines Fahey. “With experience you know almost instantly where the ball’s going to go.” Then there’s the tactical element, not to mention the confidence that comes from having experienced this level of pressure so many times. “With this game it’s more cat and mouse,” notes the man who lost the first two sets of his last World Championship final, also against Riviere, only to storm to victory by winning seven of the subsequent eight sets. “You can really structure a game in your favour and, to me, that’s the intellectual side of it more than all those chases and rules.”
This cerebral aspect of real tennis has an addictive draw, making it a thrilling discovery for many senior sportsmen forced to acknowledge their glory days on the squash court or rugby pitch are behind them. “There are so many elements to it, you’re always learning,” Fahey confirms, drawing a contrast with real tennis’s simplified descendant, lawn tennis. “Someone like Andy Murray has a limited set of skills that he has to get incredibly good at but once he’s done that there’s nowhere else
Since the 1950s, each year has seen fierce UK inter-club rivalry to claim The Field Trophy
really to go, and then the younger players will catch him,” explains Fahey. “With real tennis, there’s an infinite number of things to learn so you can just keep getting better and better.”
Of course, despite the long plateau offered by this sport and most emphatically demonstrated by Fahey, its top-level success ultimately relies on enticing youngsters into the game. That’s no easy task when the profile, court availability and funding of more mainstream sports is so much greater. One body founded specifically to tackle this challenge is The Dedanists’ Foundation, which has so far raised more than £80,000 to fund its programme of working with schools and clubs to bring a younger crowd into the game. As its president, Fahey is closely involved with the charity’s mission and views this junior intake as vital to the future strength of the game’s elite level, which, in turn, has a trickle-down effect on the sport as a whole. While both squash and lawn tennis provide solid foundations for a switch to real tennis – Fahey himself was the former number one lawn tennis player in Tasmania – other sports offer equally valuable transferable skills. “Cricket or hockey players can be good at crossing over with that hard, low-bouncing ball,” he suggests.
As with any sport, sponsorship provides a lifeline for real tennis. It may never attract the multimillion-pound packages of other games but for certain companies this niche, intellectually stimulating and, let’s be honest, rather unconventional pastime draws in just the right target audience. While investment management firm Neptune is currently the game’s headline sponsor, since the 1950s each year has seen fierce UK inter-club rivalry to claim The Field Trophy. In recent years, premierdivision clubs have set their sights on winning The Pol Roger Trophy as this champagne house has stepped up its involvement.
“We don’t have a splash of cash but we support eccentricity and enthusiasm,” explains James Simpson, managing director of Pol Roger UK and a keen player himself. The house’s connection with real tennis dates back around 20 years and is rooted in the notably large crossover that exists between this sport and members of the wine trade. Without the marketing clout of certain larger champagne brands, Pol Roger’s strategy has always been closely focused on recruiting fans at a formative stage in their wine-drinking journey. This sees the house sponsor an ever-expanding