Bobby Wilson
Stylish and popular British tennis player who made 26 consecutive appearances at Wimbledon
BOBBY WILSON, who has died aged 84, was widely acknowledged as the most stylish and naturally talented British tennis player of his generation and a huge favourite with the Wimbledon crowds. Although he reached the quarterfinals of seven Grand Slam singles tournaments, including four at Wimbledon and two at Forest Hills, he never got beyond that stage; but he did become one of Britain’s most successful Davis Cup players of all time. He also holds the record for the most consecutive appearances at Wimbledon by a British player – 26 – competing there in singles and doubles from 1952 until 1977.
Robert Keith Wilson was born on November 22 1935 in Finchley, north London, the only child of John, a retail food buyer and his wife Jessie, an average club player who loved tennis and longed to make her quiet, sporty son a champion.
Undeterred by her lack of coaching qualifications, his mother trained him every day at the nearby club, Finchley Manor, and was astonished at his extraordinary natural gifts.
Despite this unorthodox start, Wilson rapidly emerged as a teenage prodigy, winning numerous local tournaments thanks to a gloriously fluent style, aggressive serve-volley game and fine groundstrokes. His graceful smash was a particular strength.
Wilson attended Christ’s College, Finchley, then a county grammar school, but his passion for tennis made him an indifferent scholar. When he won the 1951 British Junior Championship aged only 15 against boys three years his senior, the tennis establishment began to take notice.
He became part of a strong cohort of future Davis Cuppers including his great friend Billy Knight as well as Mike Sangster, Mike Davies, and Alan Mills. At 16 he won his first round in the Wimbledon men’s championship, before losing to No 2 seed Jaroslav Drobny. He also won the Junior Event, dismissing the South African Trevor Fancutt in the final for the loss of just six games.
Wilson’s formidable mother Jessie watched nearly all his matches, supporting vociferously, with her great friend Aimee, mother of the teenage sensation Christine Truman who won the French Open aged 18. Jessie was determined that Bobby should marry Christine, and displayed a large portrait of her prominently at home – to the consternation of his girlfriends – though the planned romance never materialised.
“Jessie and Bobby had almost a psychic bond,” recalled Wilson’s Davis Cup captain John Barrett. “During matches he had to know which seat she was sitting in so he could look at her. He came to play against Cambridge University and we got her a seat behind the court. After one gruelling rally he came back to pick up a ball and she asked, ‘Are you puffed, Bobby dear?’ He was teased about being a mother’s boy after that but he took it in good part.”
Like most amateur players of that era, Wilson needed a day job alongside his tennis, and after completing National Service in the RAF worked as a training officer in the Manpower Services Commission.
He was soon travelling to tournaments all over the world but reserved many of his greatest performances for the fast indoor courts at Queen’s and the grass of Wimbledon. Here the partisan crowds cheered him on as the slighter, less athletic-looking underdog against hunky Americans and Australians.
He beat the former champion Budge Patty in 1956 but was haunted by his roller-coaster quarter-final match against the Australian Ashley Cooper in 1958. At five-all in the decider, he held break-point on Cooper’s serve and his return seemingly grazed the line, but was called out. Wilson always joked that this “bad call” gave Cooper the match and ultimately the championship.
He regarded his 1961 win over defending champion and top seed Neale Fraser in the last 16 as the highlight of his career. As often happened, he could not quite reach the same heights in the next round, falling to 8th seed Chuck Mckinley.
In 1963, his best year, he reached the quarters of the French Championships, Wimbledon and the US Championships, breezing through the early rounds and beating 6th seed Bob Hewitt in Paris, before bowing out.
At Forest Hills, two sets up against the unseeded Frank Froehling, he seemed on the verge of his first major semi-final but, despite holding a match point, he eventually went down 7-9 in the decider. In 1960 he and Mike Davies had also reached the Wimbledon men’s doubles final but lost to Rafael Osuna and Dennis Ralston in three hard-fought sets.
“Bobby had massive natural talent; the most of any of us, and wonderful soft hands,” said Billy Knight. “He could beat anyone on his day but he probably didn’t play enough in that amateur era to build up the physical and mental stamina needed to get through major tournaments.”
A quiet, strong-minded man, Wilson occasionally fell foul of “the blazers”, as he called the LTA officials, for refusing to ask permission to compete abroad for more than three weeks. This resulted in a couple of brief bans. Despite this, he appeared in a record 34 Davis Cup ties, more even than Wimbledon champions Andy Murray and Fred Perry. Fiercely patriotic, he was always happiest playing for his country and won 41 of the 61 rubbers he played, including 16 singles and 25 doubles with a variety of partners.
Wilson bade Wimbledon farewell in 1977 when he and the Devonian Jackie Fayter lost a mixed doubles cliffhanger to Mary Carillo and a young John Mcenroe 9-7 in the third. His swansong passed without fanfare, to his regret.
“I played the last match, walked off and that was it,” he said later. “No recognition, no interviews, nothing like that.”
Four years later he married his childhood sweetheart Elizabeth Evans, years after she had broken off their first engagement, saying that she could not compete with his mother. It was a long, happy partnership and he became a proud stepfather to her two daughters from her first marriage.
Tennis remained his life and he worked for years as head coach at the Chandos Club in Hendon, where a court has been dedicated to him. He continued taking sessions there until 18 months ago, though he once confessed to the tennis historian Alan Chalmers that certain pupils’ manners left something to be desired.
When he asked a group of boys to pick up the balls at the net, one retorted: “Mr Wilson, my mother pays you £10 to coach me tennis, not to have me pick up balls.”
Away from the court, gardening and cats were his great loves and he enjoyed visiting historic gardens. During trips abroad he would always feed any stray cats he could find. He also experienced a spiritual awakening after acting as usher at his stepdaughter Sarah’s wedding, becoming a regular churchgoer and churchwarden at St Andrew’s, Totteridge.
Though modest and unassuming, he was always delighted when new acquaintances remembered seeing him play.
Appropriately, he chose to be cremated in his tracksuit and trainers with a tennis ball in his pocket.
Bobby Wilson is survived by his wife Elizabeth and by his stepdaughters.