by Randy Walker
@TennisPublisher
There is a Pista Jan Kodes at the 2022 Barcelona Open ATP tennis tournament. I was told this is to honor Kodes, the Czech International Tennis Hall of Famer and three-time major champion, on his win in Barcelona 50 years ago in 1972. It seems that the Barcelona tournament honors the tournament winner from 50 years earlier with a one-year stadium naming honor on their No. 2 court. (The main stadium is named after Rafael Nadal, of course.)
The following is an excerpt from the Jan Kodes book “A Journey To Glory From Behind The Iron Curtain” (for sale here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0942257685/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_4CGKK3K00WA7VQANB4CC) Kodes says that his title run in Barcelona may have been the best tennis he played in his life.
There were two more clay court tournaments to enter in the Fall – a very prestigious Spanish International Championship in Barcelona, and a tournament in Zaragoza that was prior to it.
KODES: I was not all that enthusiastic about the Zaragoza tournament; nevertheless, I arrived in the heart of Spain after six hours of puttering along on the train. I played the Yugoslav Nicola Spear in the semifinals. He was a clever player who knew how to play against me. Drop shot – lob, drop shot – lob! He made me grind my way through points by making me run all over the court and, if I finally approached the net, he either passed or lobbed me. Matches against him always cost me a lot of energy. In that particular semifinal match I kept telling myself: I mustn’t get too fatigued for Barcelona!
Kodes won the battle! The finals took place on Sunday morning at 10:00 in order to give the players enough time to transfer to Barcelona after the match. Kodes’ counterpart was a fearsome Australian, a left-hander Barry Phillips-Moore.
KODES: We played three out of five sets; I overcame him in four but only after a good battle: 4:6, 9:7, 9:7, and 6:3. The match stretched out and we hardly had time to make the express train to Barcelona that was leaving at 3pm. I threw my stuff in the bags, took a quick shower, the organizers shoved a gorgeous trophy in my arms and said: “Mr. Kodes, hurry up!” I dashed to the platform and a minute later the train rolled in… Throughout the train ride I studied the notes from my university lectures and by that evening we arrived in Barcelona.
I could not believe my eyes when I got off the train – there was a huge mob of people like on the Wenceslas Square in Prague during our Velvet Revolution! It was a Sunday evening and people were returning from their weekend travels! What chaos, yelling, scuffle for taxis! And there was I, adorned like a Christmas tree with racket bags, suitcases, and the trophy. In the end, I succeeded in getting into a taxi and made my way to the hotel.
The name of the hotel was Zenit and it was located very near the tennis courts. We all pretty much liked the hotel but it had one shortcoming – extremely soft sagging beds. Though soft beds were not uncommon in most parts of Western Europe the degree of softness in this hotel reached an acute rate. I preferred sleeping on firmer beds…
Luckily, the staff of the hotel were already familiar with me and as soon as I entered the lobby the receptionist shouted: “Ah, señor Kodes! Buenos dias! Tabla! Tabla para el señor Kodes!”
In no time two chaps hauled in a piece of plywood and followed me to the room. There they slid it under my mattress. There are times when you have no idea who your opponent might be. Generally, that is true about the first rounds. In my room I found a schedule of matches and when I scanned the draw I thought I was having a nightmare; first round – Spear! On Monday, Centre Court, at 11am! I hit the pillows but did not sleep well that night. I sensed that I had another agonizing battle ahead of me.
However, it all looked differently in the morning. Kodes started the match like a machine right from the beginning. No mistakes, uncompromising, whatever he touched found its proper deathly landing spot.
KODES: At 30:0 I tossed the ball for the first serve and I felt sharp pain penetrating my lumbar area; that forecasted worse things to come! I told myself: “You mustn’t let anybody recognize that you are in pain!”
As soon as your opponent senses that you are not your hundred percent he makes you suffer. I managed to finish the match successfully: 6:2 in the second set. When I entered the locker room I lay down on the massage table but I could hardly move. I felt the same I had experienced the previous year in Hamburg!
One of the local officials suggested to me: “See Dr. Mario Cabañes; he’ll help you.”
I shuffled my feet to Orantes and asked him: “Listen, they are sending me to some Dr. Cabañes; do you know him?”
“Yes, I do. He is our Davis Cup doctor and he is great; a real expert. He’ll look at you.”
One of the members of the organizational committee (coincidentally, that same man who is the main director of the entire Barcelona tournament today) put me in his car and drove me to the doctor’s villa.
An elderly gentleman greeted me: “Ah, señor Kodes; I know you from Davis Cup! A champion! Czechoslovakia!
He spread some ointment on my back, then he applied heat from a large lamp, maneuvered my back in various ways and, at the end, he gave me an injection. “It is nothing grave. Come again tomorrow. You must rest it; I’ll call and request a day off for you.”
The next day he gave me another rubdown and another injection but, on Wednesday, I had to go back to play. I had a formidable opponent – the French Francois Jauffret. I was worried about the match but it turned out well. The result was 10:8, 6:2! From that point on my confidence returned and I played like a machine again and sweep away Jaime Fillol and Andres Gimeno. I played really well at the net, and my serve and drop-shots were also successful. I won the Spanish Open Championship without losing even a set! Nastase suffered a semifinal defeat 9:7, 6:4, 6:1, and Orantes got ousted in the finals 6:3, 6:2, and 6:3! I disposed of both in front of a packed stadium.
My back gave me no problem what so ever; señor Cabanes had golden hands and I was very much obliged to him; Manolo Orantes had been right! I dare to say that I played, perhaps, the best tennis of my career in Barcelona in 1972! Zaragoza must have been a good preparation for what I displayed in Real Tennis Club Barcelona.
