In only the third year at Flushing Meadows for the US Open, the second-to-last day of the tournament — better known as “Super Saturday" — was a dandy. The program opened with a men’s semifinal between the imperturbable Swede Bjorn Borg and the flashy South African Johan Kriek. Kriek, who would win the Australian Open in 1981 and 1982, served prodigiously and blasted away productively from the backcourt to build a two sets to love lead. But Borg battled back with typical perspicacity to win symmetrically 4-6, 4-6, 6-1, 6-1, 6-1. In the women’s final that followed, Chrissie Evert took her fifth title, turning the tables on Hana Mandlikova to prevail, 5-7, 6-1, 6-1.
After the fans were treated to those compelling matches, it was the last match of the day that provided the highest drama and the brand of tennis that they most wanted to see. Out on Louis Armstrong Stadium stepped a pair of combustible Americans, two lefthanders who hated to lose and had no love lost for each other, a pair of gladiators who believed their head-to-head matches were tantamount to a declaration of athletic war.
John McEnroe was the No. 2 seed and defending champion. Jimmy Connors was seeded third. McEnroe had defeated Connors in a straight set semifinal the previous year before ousting Vitas Gerulaitis in the final. Connors had upended McEnroe in the semifinals in 1978 before taking apart Borg in the final. Altogether, they had met 13 times, and Connors had been the victor on eight of those occasions. But McEnroe had toppled Connors in the semifinals of Wimbledon, and he was gaining conviction about beating his adversary when it counted.
McEnroe came at Connors full force with his serve-and-volley game, charging forward forcefully and unrelentingly, looking to establish his authority by exploiting his deft touch and superb anticipation in the forecourt. Connors was the ultimate all-court player, the man with the most fearsome return of serve in the sport, and a better player from the baseline than his opponent. Connors did not serve nearly as well as McEnroe, but his return was decidedly superior and his ground game carried more weight.
And yet, at the outset, McEnroe was the far more imposing player. He took the first set and then had a set point with Connors serving at 4-5 in the second set. Connors fought his way out of that precarious corner, held on, and went on a rampage. He won 11 games in a row, salvaging the second set, charging through the third, and moving out in front 2-0 in the fourth. Connors had more than momentum going for him; he had the more fervent fans behind him, and his confidence was soaring as he closed in on victory.
But McEnroe defined himself as he waged a tremendous comeback. Connors, of course, was widely revered in the world of tennis as the most ferocious competitor of them all, striking fear in the hearts of his rivals with his almost tangible intensity, feeding off the feelings of his fans who spurred him on immeasurably, recognizing the critical points and playing them both passionately and purposefully.
Yet McEnroe was nearly the equal of Connors in those capacities. He roared back as only he could. After trailing 3-1 in the fourth set, he swept five games in a row. The match was deadlocked at two sets all. McEnroe had regained both his composure and his inner conviction. He reasserted himself boldly in the fifth set, and served for the match, but Connors audaciously raised his return game dramatically to break back. The match was settled in a fifth set tiebreak, and in that decisive sequence it was Connors who cracked while McEnroe was implacable. McEnroe gained the victory, 6-4, 5-7, 0-6, 6-3, 7-6.
The next afternoon, he stopped Borg in five sets to defend his title. It was his finest hour at the US Open to beat his two greatest rivals back to back for the crown, not to mention ousting a young, unpolished Ivan Lendl in the quarterfinals. But the moment that would linger the longest in the minds of most erudite observers was McEnroe overcoming Connors despite losing those 11 games in a row. That was the stuff of dreams.
As McEnroe wrote about that match in his autobiography, “You Cannot Be Serious,” “We wound up in a fifth set tiebreaker, both of us (I’m sure) feeling this match was going to be horrendous for whoever lost. I know I felt I was going to tear my hair out if I didn’t win.”
He not only won, but displayed pride, tenacity and willpower of the highest order.
