by Kait O'Callahan
When it comes to tennis, my father has always waxed lyrical about the ‘good old days’. I’ve heard countless stories about the superiority of the wooden racket, grass courts, and the big personalities of John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors. When Steve Tignor released his book High Strung in May last year, I put it on my ‘potential Christmas presents for Dad’ list. Come Christmas, I was dying to read it myself but begrudgingly wrapped it up and took it home to New Zealand for Dad to open. Within weeks he had devoured it and the book had been sent down to my Aunt for her and her husband to read. From there, High Strung embarked on its second trip across the Tasman Sea to me.
If I didn’t really understand before why my dad becomes so nostalgic over tennis, I do now. Tignor’s book is not just a history of the sport, but a wonderful look into the personalities that dominated the sport through the ‘70s and ‘80s. I found myself laughing out loud at the tirades of Na