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The scene that unfolded following this year's U.S. Open women's final was classic tennis theater of the absurd.
As 19-year-old Russian star Maria Sharapova slugged her way to the title, television cameras caught members of her camp holding up a banana and flashing four fingers from the stands -- possible evidence of coaching, which is illegal in tennis. Tennis officials subsequently ruled the gestures were not code violations.
Sharapova later deflected questions about the fruit and fingers by declaring, "I believe at the end of the day, personally, my life is not about a banana."
The meaning of the signals -- Ingest potassium? Drink four bottles of fluid? Hit to the forehand of Justine Henin-Hardenne? -- remains open to debate.
But this is not: As second-ranked Sharapova strives to end the year at No.1 at this week's Sony Ericsson WTA Tour Championships in Madrid, her sport is increasingly dogged by the visible pervasiveness of on-court coaching.
The men's ATP Tour has doled out 11 fines for coaching violations in 2006 vs. three last year. The women's WTA Tour has issued 19 citations vs. 14 last year.
"Coaching goes on, and it has been abused more as an increase in money has come into the game," says Patrick McEnroe, the U.S. Davis Cup captain and a TV tennis analyst.
Most agree the practice is not as serious or results-altering as, say, a corked bat in baseball or something akin to the brown substance spotted on the pitching hand of Detroit's Kenny Rogers in last month's World Series. Both could provide a significant and concrete competitive advantage.
Proponents of tennis coaching merely believe it will spice up a sport that has been losing some of its appeal.
But tennis tradition dictates courtside assistance during play is cheating, outside of team competitions such as Davis Cup and Fed Cup. The so-called Bananagate affair in September added to the mounting concern of players, coaches and observers.
*Following his five-set loss to Rafael Nadal in the Rome final this spring, world No. 1 Roger Federer vociferously complained about coaching-like exhortations his opponent received from his uncle and coach, Tony Nadal, during their match.
*Well-known tennis coach Nick Bollettieri authored a newspaper article during Wimbledon admitting he had called signals from courtside for a quarter century. He also argued for the legalization of on-court coaching as an unenforceable "fact of life."
*The WTA this summer began experimenting with allowing on-court coaching at events and might continue it into 2007.
"We're tying to be progressive and push the envelope, but it's a delicate balance as far as what the players want and adding to a sport that has been resistant to change," says Larry Scott, CEO of the tour. "It adds personality and dimension to the match."
Journalist and historian Bud Collins, who has been covering the sport for four decades, says courtside coaching is nothing new.
"It's a secret in any game," Collins says of the attempt to gain an illegal edge in sports. He is against allowing on-court coaching.
What can it harm?
Although not yet convinced it is worth allowing carte blanche, Bollettieri argues that just because Tiger Woods talks to his caddie or Muhammad Ali chatted with his cornerman doesn't make them any less great.
Moreover, Bollettieri says that letting fans in on coaching could add an element of intrigue now missing.
"Wouldn't it be interesting to see if a match could be turned around?" he says. "I do think it would be good for the game, and it would be counterproductive not to try testing it."
Indeed, that has begun. Prodded by broadcasters and sponsors and noting stagnant TV ratings in recent years, the WTA launched its version of on-court coaching.
Under the trial system, which was tweaked this fall, players nominate a coach before a tournament begins and can request permission from the chair umpire to speak to that person between sets. Coaches must sit in a designated area in the stands, close to the changeover chairs, for easy access to the players if called onto the court.
If an opponent takes an injury or bathroom timeout, a coach can also be consulted. The conversations between players and coaches are miked and available to be heard on TV.
In five tournaments where it was tested, players called for a coach in 62% of matches, 2.2 times a match.
That's encouraging to Scott, who believes the experiment has been successful enough to warrant additional testing in 2007. That decision will be made at board meetings after the Madrid championships conclude.
But as many in the sport concede, allowing coaches to impart advice during matches opens a Pandora's box of issues. Some players, such as Federer and 2005 U.S. Open champ Kim Clijsters, are flatly against it. They say it would alter tennis' unique characteristic: Relying on their wits to win.
"When we walk on the court, it's like when you walk into a classroom and you have a test," Federer says. "You can't look on somebody's paper. You have to be able to handle it yourself. That's how I see tennis."
Scott thinks that's bunk.
"I think it's much ado about nothing from a sporting perspective," he says. "There's no asterisk next to Tiger Woods' name because he gets coaching from his caddie on every shot."
Some, like Arlen Kantarian, the U.S. Tennis Association's head of professional tennis, see both sides.
"It takes away a little of that gladiator, mano a mano element, but it also has benefits in eliminating umpire judgment calls and providing added marquee value to the sport," he says.
Fairness is another issue because many players can't afford to travel with coaches. Some coaches work with more than one player, creating potential conflicts of interest or at least awkward situations.
What constitutes coaching is also a huge gray area.
Exhortations from the sideline are a commonly accepted practice.
If a player hits an effective kick serve to the backhand side for a winner and his camp says, "Great play," isn't the implication that he/she should do it again? Where does encouragement end and coaching begin?
Downsides are plentiful
The increasingly large coterie of courtside supporters -- parents, coaches, friends, trainers, lovers -- and the ever-larger stakes, such as the $1million winner's prize this week in Madrid, has made the temptation of coaching greater and policing it more difficult.
Fines are small -- up to $250 for the WTA, from $500 to $5,000 for the ATP. Except for a possible default, deterrents are negligible.
"There's always going to be exceptions, and there's going to be some people that use unfair means," says 17-year-old Vania King, who last month at Bangkok became the youngest American woman to win a WTA title since Serena Williams in 1999.
"I don't think there is anything you can do about those few people," King says.
Policing also is problematic considering the language barrier. A Spanish umpire might be calling a match between a Thai and Ukrainian. How can the umpire have any idea about the nature of exchanges in their native tongues?
On the other hand, some contend permissible coaching could improve the quality of play and brings a new aspect to audiences familiar with coaches from frequent TV shots of the players' boxes in the stands.
"I think a lot of coaches can bring the positive thoughts," says Martina Hingis, who called her mother and coach, Melanie Molitor, on the court this summer at Montreal, one of five events where the system was tested. "You're thinking about what happened, instead of what to do in the future."
ESPN, which shows roughly 600 hours of tennis annually, is supportive of the experiment.
"The more activity on the court, the more it increases your level of interest," says Jason Bernstein, who deals with tennis in ESPN's programming department.
Bollettieri believes a few tactical hints can change the course of a match. But McEnroe says the watered-down conversations he has heard on TV don't merit altering the rules of tennis.
"I don't think the positives outweigh the negatives," he says. "You can't tell me that Sharapova won the Open because her dad told her to eat a banana. It would be rare to think a coach on the sideline could have a consistent, huge impact on the outcome of matches."
Others argue that if it's so prevalent and hard to police, why not institutionalize what is happening anyway?
"It's almost like legalizing marijuana," TV commentator and former tennis pro Pam Shriver said earlier this year.
"Everyone's smoking it. If you can't control it, why not legislate it?"
Even Sharapova, who resisted the idea and has been cited for coaching violations in the past, has warmed up to it in recent months.
At a tournament she won in Zurich last month, Sharapova called her hitting partner, Michael Joyce, onto the court during several of her matches.
Asked about it later, she joked: "Well, you know you caught me out there. ... I mean, it's not as if they can tell you anything new or change the course of the match. But I just thought there were so many ups and downs in the first set that it might help me refocus."
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