Authentic students of tennis history have long lauded Pauline Betz for being the world’s best woman player across the 1940s, for reaching a record six consecutive U.S. National Championship finals at Forest Hills during that decade, and for securing five of the ten major tournaments she played in her sterling career. They point to Betz’s unwavering pride, extraordinary dedication and unshakable disposition. They single her out as an American treasure who valued the meaning of fair play while competing with unmistakable purposefulness to attain the most prestigious prizes in the sport. They remember her as a woman with a wide range of virtues and few flaws who is underappreciated by too many observers who should know better.
As Frank Hatten—Director of Racket Sports at the Bethesda Country Club in Maryland and a valued friend to Betz—says, “Pauline was this incredible tennis figure who dated Spencer Tracy and appeared on the Ed Sullivan show. But she was so humble in her interactions with people that you would never surmise she was a person of such magnitude. Nobody is acknowledging in this country the way they should what a great champion she was. She has been terribly overlooked.”
Lost somewhere in the shuffle of history is that Betz was much larger than the sum of her achievements, a courageous pioneer and transcendent female athlete standing up to the establishment, earning a living as a professional player and displaying the kind of gumption few women of her time could have ever envisioned.
In the spring of 1947, Betz found herself in the midst of a controversy manufactured by the governing body of the game in her country— the United States Lawn Tennis Association (USLTA), now known as the United States Tennis Association. Betz’s only two losses in the six Forest Hills finals she played from 1941-46 were against the guileful Sarah Palfrey Cooke. Sarah was married to Elwood Cooke, who thought it might be worthwhile to explore a potential pro tour series between his wife and Betz.
Though all Cooke did was to look into the matter, the USLTA, learning of enquiries, flexed their muscles prematurely. Officials chose to suspend both Cooke and Betz based solely on their interest in pursuing that possibility. Therefore, Betz would be suspended and prevented from defending her 1946 Wimbledon and U.S. Championships titles.
As Jack Kramer wrote in “The Game” regarding the treatment of Betz, “It was a crime. She was the best athlete I ever saw in women’s tennis. Pauline had not signed a professional contract [when she was suspended]…. She was ruled out as an amateur on the basis of intent.”
It was, of course, a case of the USLTA overreacting to a couple of leading women players simply contemplating the notion of playing professional tennis. Betz and Sarah Cooke bounced their options around and then understandably decided to turn pro, a decision which they made official on May 5, 1947.
The USLTA had forced their hand.
Be that as it may, it was a bold and brave decision for Betz to turn pro. Others in her shoes might have been embittered about being forced to make such a move, but Betz was an essentially upbeat person who did not move anywhere near the land of negativity. She examined the whole thing practically and listened carefully when Sarah and Elwood Cooke told her that there had been a very good response from clubs regarding the pro tour.
She wrote in her 1949 book “Wings on My Tennis Shoes,” “It was a difficult decision to make but I finally concluded that I had spent most of my life becoming a tennis champion and that I should capitalize on it and return to what was really my own world.”
I interviewed Betz in 2002 when she was 82. She clarified how she felt about going out on tour with Cooke 55 years earlier and why she did it.
Betz told me, “In a sense,” she said, “there wasn’t much else for Sarah and I to do. There was no tour arranged for us so we had to pilot our own that year. We did have Don Budge and Bobby Riggs with us for a while when we were in Europe and a couple of the men [Elwood Cooke and Carl Earn] played matches with us in the south. But mostly we were on our own. We travelled an awful lot, but when you are young that is fine.”
She also enjoyed having the upper hand in her series with Cooke, explaining to me, “By that time I was playing a little better than Sarah. She had stayed out of competition in 1946. I don’t remember how many times we played but I won about two-thirds of the matches [Betz was victorious in 27 of 34 completed contests against Cooke on their tour]. It was nice because we were getting paid well for the time, although not compared to these days. I probably made about $15,000 to $20,000 which was not a fortune, but it was pretty good.”
After marrying sports writer Bob Addie a few years later, she competed on another pro tour, this time going head to head against countrywoman Gussy Moran. Moran was a fine player but not in Betz’s league. The outcome of their contests was seldom in doubt and there was even pressure on Betz to let up on Moran.
When I asked her about that one-sided 1951 series which she won overwhelmingly 60-14, Betz responded, “My husband was called back into the service at that time, and Bobby Riggs was promoting the tour. He asked if I wanted to play against Gussy and it sounded like a good idea for me. I made about $500 a week or something like that, but I was happy about that.”
By playing those two pro tours against Cooke and Moran in 1947 and 1951, Betz established herself as one of the few women ever to embark on such a rigorous schedule of travel and competition in pro tennis. Betz displayed courage by going out on those tours and set herself apart as a woman of considerable strength and character.
The hard work she put in, and the professionalism she displayed, contributed mightily to the future of the women’s game. Playing in those forums set Betz apart as a player not only making a modest living in the game, but as a sportswoman who, whether she realized it or not, was opening up windows of opportunity for future generations.
Open tennis would not be established until 1968, but in her own quiet and understated way, Betz played a significant role in making future generations of female players realize what might be possible. Eventually, with the leadership of Billie Jean King, women received equal prize money at the US Open and 2023 marks the 50th year of that milestone achievement.
After her competitive days were over, Betz moved on seamlessly with her life, and was fittingly inducted at the International Tennis Hall of Fame in 1965. She became a mother of five, grandmother and great grandmother, and a teaching professional for more than three decades. She spent the second half of her life predominantly in Maryland and was honored when a prominent public facility in that state was renamed “The Pauline Betz Addie Tennis Center” in May of 2008. Among those who came to pay homage to her that day was none other than Billie Jean King, who fully recognized how deeply Betz had contributed to the advancement of women’s tennis.
Betz passed away at 91 in 2011. Asked nine years earlier to define her legacy, Betz said, “If I am remembered at all, that is great. I guess I was known as the fastest player with a great backhand. I kind of like that.”
In my view, she should be remembered as one of the most important tennis players of all time, as a trailblazer for women in sports, and as a gracious sportswoman who rose above the fray to not only achieve prolifically but to set the highest ethical standards.
