It's now more then five years since the Alligator, Rene LaCoste, toppled the American tennis titan, Tilden, and thus brought to France the Davis Cup. There it has remained despite the fact that in Shields, Lott, Allison, Van Ryn, and Vines, America has the greatest collection of tennis players alive and most probably the greatest individual player. Yet France continues to pour water on her already soggy courts and Champagne into the historic bowl.

Despite its uninterrupted string of disappointments, however, the U.S.L.T.A. continues its usual system. The American players go to Wimbledon. They blast the rest of the world aside. Then to Germany, perhaps, where the victory is less brilliant. Then weeks of vicious internecine practice in which the beat each other regularly thus destroying all confidence and by the sole and necessary fact of defeat make accord raters out of champions. They live on the Place do la Concorde, world's noisiest square. Unable to sleep, they stroll the streets till midnight. This means getting up about 12 o'clock the next day for the match. A child of twelve could advise better.

Thus does the cup while in a Continental environment while interest and gate receipts in American tennis dwindle. Even in college football and crew where there are special reasons for continuity of method and coaching personnel, constant failure has brought change. Perhaps another year of tennis depression will be necessary to broaden the minds of the Lawn Tennis officials. A second possibility is that the officials themselves might be replaced for the benefit of the players. Another alternative is that the American team, and Vines in particular, will by the sheer force of their astonishing play, win in spite of themselves.