Should Tiebreakers Replace Deciding Sets?

Paul Fein

A radical scoring change is spreading across the tennis world. Tiebreakers replaced the entire traditional third sets in the mixed doubles events at the 2001 Australian and U.S. Opens.

Will this highly controversial reform become the the norm in singles and doubles events at all professional tournaments?

Is it a brilliant innovation whose time has come, or a well-intentioned but bad idea destined to damage or even ruin tennis?

From the same land Down Under come two diametrically opposed viewpoints.

“It’s tragic to see where doubles is headed,” says Paul McNamee, director of the Australian Open and a former doubles champion. “We want to get doubles back in front of full houses where fans can appreciate it, and we can make stars out of doubles players. We want to do it in a way that adds value to tournaments and does not hurt the integrity of doubles. It seems that two sets and a super tiebreaker is achieving all of those things.”

Equally concerned about our sport’s future, Todd Woodbridge, doubles great and president of the ATP Players Council, predicts: “If we start implementing a tiebreaker [instead of a third set] in mixed doubles, eventually it’s going to go to men’s doubles and women’s doubles, and in the long term, singles as well. And then tennis is no longer a true test of skill, and nothing like we’ve known it. We have a successful scoring system, and we’re changing that. What they’re doing to mixed doubles now is the beginning of the downfall of the whole game.”

The question of whether tennis should adopt a tiebreaker in lieu of a third and deciding set -- a revolutionary rule change by any standard -- has unfortunately engendered little public debate so far. Let’s examine it from several vantage points, using the most important criteria, and determine which position holds up better under rigorous analysis.

The Sine Qua Non Test

Professional tennis must always be a fair test of skill and will. If a scoring system does not pass that “fair test” criterion, then nothing else matters. But what constitutes a “fair test”?

The match must be long enough to determine who the better player or doubles team is. Historically, the only debate had focused on best three-of-five versus best two-of-three-set matches. In 1902 when the leading women players at the United States Championships were told they would no longer be allowed to play best-of-five-set singles battles like the men, they protested vehemently, but to no avail. From 1984 to 1998 the women played best-of-five singles finals in the season-ending Chase Championships to mixed reviews.

At the four Grand Slam tournaments, men’s singles matches have always adhered to the best-of-five format. The rationale is that a longer test -- within reason, of course, and the arrival of tiebreakers ended unreasonable marathon sets -- insures that the cream eventually rises to the top. Many champions, most notably Bjorn Borg, used their skill, never-say-die spirit, strategy and stamina to overcome the loss of two early sets and prevail in the end. And memorable five-set duels, such as Ivan Lendl’s 1984 French Open final turnaround against John McEnroe and Mats Wilander’s comeback win over Pat Cash in the 1988 Australian Open final, rank among the most thrilling matches in tennis history. They could never have happened had mere tiebreakers replaced the deciding sets.

A certain ambivalence, however, has marked the men’s doubles event at the Slams. For example, 14 of the 16 Australian Opens from 1969 to 1983 used best-two-of-three sets, and since then the final featured best-three-of-five sets (in 2002 the final will revert to best two of three); the French and U.S. Opens switched to the shorter format in 1990 and 1993, respectively; and Wimbledon has always used the longer format. In six years from 1894 to 1900, women’s doubles at the United States Championships played best-of-five sets.

Since its Grand Slam inception at the 1887 United States Championships, mixed doubles has remained a best-two-of-three-sets affair except for 11 times there from 1888 to 1901 when the longer format was in effect.

However, the shocking amputation of the deciding set in a match completely fails the “fair test” criterion. After Woodbridge combined with Rennae Stubbs to win the treasured 2001 U.S. Open mixed doubles crown, both derided the gimmick as a “chook raffle.” That’s a slang reference from Australia’s less cosmopolitan past when football, lawn bowls clubs and pubs conducted fundraising “chook raffles,” or lotteries, with the prize being a frozen chook (chicken).

“If you’re playing at the U.S. Open, the pinnacle of U.S. tournaments and a Grand Slam event, you should play it in the toughest circumstances that you can,” argues Woodbridge. “And that doesn’t mean playing a shortened version of the game. You should be playing [with a scoring system] where the strongest, the fittest, and the best win.”

Indeed, playing a mere 10-point super tiebreaker after splitting two sets would be the equivalent of the NBA playing a 5-minute overtime period after only three quarters of play. Or soccer playing an overtime after 60 minutes, rather than after 90 minutes of regulation.

“The third-set super tiebreaker is not a true test, and the best player or team doesn’t always win,” asserts Pat Cash, the 1987 Wimbledon singles champion and 1984 Wimbledon doubles finalist with McNamee. “It is usually the player or team with momentum at the time that wins.

“I know from more experience than almost anyone that the third-set super tiebreaker evens the players out,” says Cash. “This [shortened] format was introduced on the seniors [Champions] tour so the older players like Connors and McEnroe could win over the younger, fitter players. But two sets and a tiebreaker for an Australian Open or a U.S. Open title and hundreds of thousands of dollars? As one of my old friends used to say, ‘You cannot be serious!’ ”

When asked if what McNamee calls the “best of two sets” -- an oxymoronic and blatantly stupid expression -- is fair, McNamee fires back, “Absolutely. Of course, it is. Is the third-set tiebreaker a fair test of skill?”

Of course, it is -- even if three of the four majors choose not to use a 12-point tiebreaker in the deciding set. That’s because the tiebreaker was created to shorten and enliven sets, which 30 years ago had too often become protracted, and not replace them. It should be quite obvious that a player must get to 6-all in games in order to earn the right to play a tiebreaker, regardless of which set it is.

McNamee doesn’t agree with that, either. “It’s where you draw the line,” he claims. “To get to one-set-all, you’ve had two sets played. Is three sets fairer than five sets?”

But isn’t best-of-three sets the minimum length required to achieve fairness? McNamee dismissively says, “the historical minimum is three sets. You’re being arbitrary.”

Arbitrary? On the contrary, tennis’ clever and nuanced scoring system was thoroughly debated and created with wisdom and vision during the 1870s. And it has undisputably passed the test of time. Unlike soccer and ice hockey which suffer from too little scoring, and basketball which stockpiles points at an incredible rate, tennis points count more or less depending on the situation and score. Hence, the exciting, big-point expressions, such as “break point,” “game point,” “set point,” and “match point.”

Because of that a tennis player can win fewer total points and even fewer total games and still win a match, but he still must win more sets. So winning those sets must fairly and fully test competitors athletically, physically, and mentally. And unduly shortened sets clearly preclude that.

“Doubles isn’t a fair test of stamina anyway,” scoffs McNamee. Doubles does generally require much less stamina than singles. But traditional-scoring doubles definitely tests a player’s endurance on hot, humid days, during long, grueling matches, and whenever he is still involved in other events.

“I can tell you that a super tiebreaker would be tougher mentally than a set,” insists McNamee. That’s certainly not true when a super tiebreaker is compared to a final set where opposing teams battle to 6-games-all and then have to play a tiebreaker -- which is the only valid comparison here.

Does luck -- a net cord, horrendous bounce, vicious gust of wind resulting in a fluke shot, or an incorrect line call, etc. -- become too big a factor when a super tiebreaker alone decides the final set, the match and sometimes a Grand Slam championship?

Compared to a regular tiebreaker (where the first player to win seven points by a margin of at least two points prevails), the super tiebreaker (where the first player to win 10 points by a margin of at least two points prevails) “is a good compromise because the players feel luck is less of a factor,” contends McNamee. “The super tiebreaker is like half a set of tennis.” Ah, but the correct comparison is not between two different kinds of tiebreakers to replace an entire set, but between traditional scoring and the super tiebreaker for the deciding set.

Woodbridge rejects McNamee’s so-called “compromise” and points to his U.S. Open mixed doubles final, his second experience with the super tiebreaker. He and Stubbs comfortably won the first set 6-4 against Leander Paes and Lisa Raymond. “We slipped a little at 6-5 in the second set, they got some momentum, and all of a sudden, we’re down match point in the tiebreaker,” recalls Woodbridge. “And we had to regroup quickly. Had we gone to a normal set, we thought we would have won comfortably.

“So, no, the super tiebreaker is not a test of skill because it came down to a little bit of luck,” argues Woodbridge. “We actually got lucky at the end of the [11-9] tiebreaker. The tiebreaker took away an element so important in our [traditional] scoring system. That element is that you always have a chance to get back into a match, even if you’re down 5-love in the final set.”

McNamee regards that championship match as “very interesting. There was a lot of media commentary against it. But it actually had 20,000 people watching it and worldwide TV. The U.S. Open mixed doubles final was probably the most-watched doubles match in the last 20 years in tennis. You have to be fair and look at the positives.”

More important, Mac, you have to look at the big picture. The mixed doubles final received unprecedented exposure only because it served as the warm-up act for the eagerly awaited quarterfinal showdown between fiery, rising stars Lleyton Hewitt and Andy Roddick. “Since the mixed doubles final was televised in prime time [7:30 p.m. EDT], I suppose one could claim it was the most-watched doubles match ever. But that’s damning it with faint praise,” says Lawrence Jeziak, the respected Tennis Week TV columnist. “I don’t recall another doubles match being televised in prime time.”

And did 20,000 fired-up fans really flock to see a match featuring a dynamic new scoring system, as McNamee implies? “I don’t think 20,000 people watched it live,” says Jeziak. “More accurately, it was played in front of 20,000 seats. Based on my TV viewing perspective, most of those seats were empty.”

What McNamee does acknowledge, however, is that “generally, players have been opposed to it. Doubles players would prefer to play the maximum-length match. They obviously feel it diminishes their court time” -- almost suggesting that everything would be fine if these stubborn doubles players just wouldn’t be such court hogs. But everyone can see that’s not why players are objecting.

Click here for Part 2.

Award-winning tennis writer Paul Fein's book, "Tennis Confidential: Today's Greatest Players, Matches, and Controversies," was recently published by Brassey's, Inc. You can purchase it at a discount by going to www.tennisconfidential.com.