John McEnroe

“Don’t go away”

“Please”

Johnny Mac implores with a good humored yet resigned grin as the camera pans back from him and his guest to make way for the dreaded commercial break. A necessary evil that pays the bills for the show but only so far as viewers don’t grab the remote to indulge their desire to “surf the break”. It is public knowledge that viewers have indeed tended to catch the break and ride off to other primetime temptations.

It is endearing to see Mac the Mouth reach out to keep his viewer base tethered. For more than a decade as the brash entertainer extraordinaire on the world’s premiere tennis stages, he had a magnetic hold on a fan base by combining electrifying play with volatile theatrics. I was and still am a Big Mac fan. Admittedly though, I was an even bigger Connors fan.

Connors had a longer though more patchy career. Part of his appeal for me was that even at his peak (save for 1974), you didn’t sense he was as thoroughly dominant as Mac was against the competition. You felt that your fan support was critically integral in willing him to his tough victories. His win over Mac at Wimbledon in 1982 symbolized that. And every Connors fan remembers the 1991 US Open. Connors now maintains a very private life in contrast to Mac. Obviously understandable, but as a fan who felt like a partner in his victories, I am now jilted.

On the other hand, while Mac was on top of the tennis ladder, though never directly unappreciative of his fan base, one nonetheless felt his impregnability as a competitor extend into an aloof detachment as a person. Today, Mac’s colorful and insightful commentary at all the Grand Slams makes him one of the best reasons to watch the sport on TV. This continued visibility in a more mature but still edgily irreverent incarnation has lengthened the longevity and warmed the timbre of his post-player public image. Not to mention his cameos as a rock guitarist and ongoing dealings in the fine art arena.

And now, he is a talk-show host. One of the earlier reviews contained a comment that stuck in my mind. Amidst the backdrop of slick and over-choreographed talk-shows in general, it described the McEnroe show as one in which “stuff could go wrong” and alleviate the humdrumness of the generic talk-show experience. I’ve only seen the show 2 or 3 times and I’ve seen Mac struggle to do a sit-up, box a punching bag and even labor to keep it lively with Roger Federer the day after he won his 1st US Open. The production crew also appeared to botch an intro segment, with Mac listing a lineup of guests on “tonight’s show” that was in fact wrong. I find all this quite entertaining as it displays sides of McEnroe that we’re less familiar with. This is not the supreme athlete in total control of the moment, attacking or parrying with perfect timing and coordination. This is an entertainer who’s taking a risk and feeling out a new playing field. To be frank, I thought Mac would slide into the role of talk-show host quicker than Arnold did into that of political leader. But that’s another story.

I visited the McEnroe show’s website and found that not only can you attend a show taping, the “package” includes free transport, an audience photograph and a chance to meet Mac. I fired off an immediate email and within 24 hours got a reply with 2 confirmed reservations for the date I’d requested. Remarkable.

For years, I’ve attended the US Open in Flushing Meadows roaming the grounds with a softcover coffetable photo book of tennis champions from the ‘70s - Connors, Evert, Borg, and even a young Lendl. Mac is on the cover and I’ve coveted his autograph on this book for a while now. Twice I’ve encountered his brother (Patrick) in public and each time had the fleeting thought of walking up to him and requesting an address to which I could mail the book to – return postage included – in order to get it signed. Prudence got the better of me each time.

Two days after the email confirmation from the McEnroe show, I dreamt I played tennis with Mac himself. Actually, it was Tim Mayotte (don’t ask me why), Mac and I. The only episode I recall about the dream was – giddy with apparent mutual conviviality, I jokingly disparaged Mac’s current tennis form and failed to receive the light-hearted reaction I expected. A silent scowl is the expression I remember.

Given the uncertainty of the McEnroe show’s future, I hope my date with Mac will be spared the producer’s hatchet. Mac needs his fans now – seemingly more than he ever did when he was racking up Grand Slam and Davis Cup titles - and I’ll be there to lend a hand. A hand that will be holding out a book that’s been awaiting his final put-away signature volley.

P.S. I in fact successfully get my books signed and in the process have an amusing interlude with Mac. I’m seated in the studio audience when Mac announces his main guest as Phil Hellmuth, World Poker Champion. Mac apparently spies me snickering with mild excitement to my buddy in the adjacent seat. The following exchange ensues:

Mac (looking in my general direction): So you a poker fan?
Me (not realizing I’m being spoken to directly): ?????? (freeze in silence)
Mac: Uh – yeah, YOU….you speak English?
Me (realizing I’m being addressed by Mac, look straight at him): hey – just calling your bluff!
Mac (grinning): hey! (fingers pointing at me gunslinger-style)