First as tragedy, then as farce.

Same tournament; same umpire. New players; new court; new call.

Same outcome: tennis shooting itself in the foot.

After midnight on Saturday morning in Cincinnati, Canada’s Felix Auger-Aliassime was match point down to Britain’s Jack Draper in the deciding set of their round-of-16 match. Draper served out wide and moved in to volley; Auger-Aliassime dipped a return at Draper’s feet. The ball spun up, clipped the net tape, and rolled over.

Draper smiled and walked towards the net for a handshake, believing he had hit a fortuitous winner; Auger-Aliassime walked across to the deuce side of the court for 40-40, believing the ball had hit Draper’s side of the court on its way over.

There was a pause. Greg Allensworth, the umpire, who was also in the chair for the electronic line calling (ELC) malfunction with Brandon Nakashima and Taylor Fritz on Thursday, spoke into his microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am ruling that that was a fair shot. Game, set, and match Draper, 5-7, 6-4, 6-4.”

Then it began.

“If there was a replay then I’d replay it, but I don’t know,” Draper said.

“Did you not see the ball bounce on the floor?” Auger-Aliassime asked Allensworth.

“Like after he hit it?” Allensworth asked Auger-Aliassime.

“You’re going to get out, and it’s going to be everywhere, and it’s going to look ridiculous,” Auger-Aliassime said.

There was no need to get out and wait for it to be everywhere. There was no need to wait for the four-minute discussion that inevitably ended in no reconsideration of the decision. It was already ridiculous — and not because of the officiating.

After Thursday night’s incident between Fritz and Nakashima, in which Allensworth was unable to intervene and reverse an incorrect non-call from the Hawk-Eye ELC system, the ATP Tour took swift action.

“After recent technical issues with Live ELC in Montreal and Cincinnati, we have conducted a thorough review of our protocols. Going forward, if the review official determines during a rally that a ball was out earlier in the point (but was not called by the system), that decision will stand,” the tour said.

This incident should occasion a similar review of video replay in tennis. In the case of Draper and Auger-Aliassime’s match point, Allensworth has to decide the following things in a matter of milliseconds:

• Does Draper volley the ball or half-volley it? This affects whether or not the ball can follow the trajectory it ends up taking.
• Does he hit the ball into the ground?
• Does he hit the ball with his racket twice? If yes, Allensworth has to rule whether or not he has done so in the same motion.

Oh my! 🫣 pic.twitter.com/FazKHlOKY9

— Stefanos Tsitsipas (@steftsitsipas) August 17, 2024

Replays appear to show Draper knocking the ball into the ground on his side, before it spins back off his racket and high into the air. If there is a double hit, it is in one continuous motion, so would not be ground for losing the point under tennis’s rules. The ball hitting Draper’s side of the court after his racket, however, would mean Auger-Aliassime winning the point.

Instead, Draper wins the point and the match. But even with video, this decision is close; there are clues to the ball having hit the court after the racket in its final trajectory, including its arc and height, but not a definitive frame. What definitely unfolds? Another failure of tennis’ refereeing infrastructure to protect players and fans.

Draper, Auger-Aliassime and Allensworth were all let down (Matthew Stockman/Getty Images)

Draper should not have to defend his integrity when trying to pick up a ball, nor should he have to consider conceding a point. Auger-Aliassime should not have to explain to an umpire that he can be proven wrong after his opportunity to win a match is lost. Allensworth should not have to be the sole arbiter of an incredibly tight call with just his eyes, while fans watching both live and on TV can see replays he cannot act on — even if they are not conclusive.

Questions of sportsmanship and decency will necessarily come up — Andy Roddick memorably gave a point to Fernando Verdasco at the 2005 Rome Masters when up a set and triple match point, after the umpire refused to check a ball mark. Roddick lost that match — but players should not have to mete out their versions of what is fair in a sport that has rules and protocols to prevent them from doing so. Even if Allensworth were to have reviewed the footage and not overturned it, it would have allowed all three people in question more closure on the situation than guessing about their instant impressions of a moment.

“We can look at it after the match and if I see it wrong, I’ll admit it to you,” he told Auger-Aliassime.

“That’s too late,” the Canadian said.

There are good reasons the use of video replays sometimes meets resistance — one is that it cannot be in place for all events. At this year’s U.S. Open, which starts on Monday, August 26, only three-quarters of the singles matches will have video replay covering them. Situations may unfold when the same call gets overturned on one occasion because of video, but gets left in error on another because it is not available on a different court.

A wider introduction would see tennis reckon with many of the growing pains football has gone through, including a clearer realisation of how much is predicated on subjectivity that a camera can’t eradicate. But tennis creating problems for itself like this is a tragedy. To continue to do so when there are simple ways to avoid it? A farce.

(Top photo: Frey/TPN via Getty Images)

Maybe we should have known right from the start that this was going to take a while.

Panathinaikos’ Argentinian midfielder Daniel Mancini stepped up to take the first penalty of their shootout against Ajax, the Greek side having scored a late equaliser to force the Europa League qualifying tie on Thursday night to go to spot kicks.

But while he did technically ‘take’ the penalty, he might as well have just blown on the ball for all the force he put behind it when he kicked the thing. A pathetic penalty that 40-year-old goalkeeper Remko Pasveer saved easily was the most appropriate way to start a shootout that featured slapstick, rank incompetence and occasional bursts of excellence.

In total, there were 34 penalties. That, we probably don’t need to tell you, is a UEFA competition record. In all, 25 were scored, two missed the target entirely and seven were saved — five by Pasveer and two by Panathinaikos goalkeeper Bartlomiej Dragowski.

Ajax, who went second in the shootout, had five ‘match points’ — penalties would have won the tie — and flubbed the first four before emerging victorious.

Striker Brian Brobbey was brought off the Ajax bench during extra time, perhaps not explicitly to take a penalty (there were 10 minutes remaining when he came on) but certainly with a shootout in mind. He was one of the 12 players who had to take two penalties. He missed them both. What’s more, both of them were potential clinchers.

Missing one penalty in a shootout will bring deep shame and embarrassment, but you’ll get over it. Missing two is the sort of thing that could haunt you for years. Missing two potential winners… well, at least his side won in the end.

After that first (terrible) penalty from Mancini, the next eight were very smartly taken by, among others, Steven Bergwijn, Kenneth Taylor (both Ajax) and former Leicester City winger Tete (for Panathinaikos).

Then it started to get weird. Brobbey stepped up, and there seemed to be an expectation that he would make short work of this: he isn’t a regular penalty taker, but had only missed one in his senior career and had a prolific conversion rate as an academy player. The home crowd chanted his name, he puffed out his cheeks, hit it with reasonable power to the ‘keeper’s right… and Dragowski saved it. The air left the stadium like it had suddenly become a spaceship’s airlock.

Is it possible to ‘morally’ miss a penalty that you actually score? If so, that’s what the Greek side’s next taker, Dutch midfielder Tonny Vilhena, did. He is a Feyenoord youth product and spent eight seasons in their first team… which is another way of saying the Ajax crowd hated him.

He struck a low kick to Pasveer’s right, and the goalkeeper got down well to get more than a hand (an arm, perhaps?) to it…

… but the ball squirted from underneath him, briefly looked like it might stay out  — to the point that the Ajax fans started to celebrate  — but eventually span across the goalmouth and trickled into the opposite corner.

Vilhena, having heard the thoughts of the home crowd, decided to give a bit back by shushing the terraces. Would this come back to haunt him later on in the shootout? Surely not.

Next up for Ajax was Jordan Henderson, perhaps as much to remind everyone that he still plays for them. Henderson and penalties are not especially good friends: it’s easy to forget because England won, but he missed in their shootout victory at the 2018 World Cup against Colombia, and has since only taken one competitive penalty in regular time for club or country… which he also missed for England in a pre-Euro 2020 friendly against Romania. Happily, he didn’t have any problems here, side-footing straight down the middle and into the net.

GO DEEPER

Jordan Henderson – the serial winner who is now just an idea for fans to hate

Then, another miss: Nemanja Maksimovic erred for Panathinaikos, saved brilliantly by Pasveer. But again Ajax couldn’t take their chance, with Bertrand Traore skewing his effort both high and wide, which is quite difficult to do from 12 yards. It was after this penalty that a squabble broke out in the centre circle, both teams getting tetchy at this extended shootout, and referee Chris Kavanagh booked a player from each side.

The next penalty was Panathinaikos’ Sverrir Ingason, who went low but too close to Pasveer, who bagged his third save. At this stage, he and opposite number Dragowski hugged and started laughing: yes, it was getting quite silly now. And it got even sillier when Ajax passed up yet another chance to win it, as Dragowski saved from Ajax defender Youri Baas.

This was the penalty shootout that nobody seemed especially keen to win. On the touchline, the look on the face of Ajax coach Francesco Farioli suggested he was watching himself undergo open heart surgery. His opposite number, Diego Alonso, looked similar.

However, the next 14 penalties were all excellent, with the goalkeepers barely having a chance. They took kicks themselves and scored with minimum fuss, only ramping up the tension. After all, 14 penalties is a full normal shootout and a half. The Panathinaikos substitutes and coaches, arms locked on the touchline, were told off for encroaching onto the pitch. At some point, Farioli retreated from the touchline and sat alone on the bench, his aorta pulsing about two feet in front of him.

But then, another chance to win it for Ajax: Panathinaikos centre-back Filip Mladenovic tried to go for power, but it was too close to Pasveer who saved to his left.

Redemption presented itself. Just as he had earlier in the shootout, Brobbey strode forwards knowing that if he scored, Ajax would be through. He stepped up, puffed out those cheeks again, resolved not to make the same mistake again — this time, he wasn’t going to let Dragowski get anywhere near it.

And he didn’t — the trouble was that the only people who did get anywhere near it were in the back rows of the Johan Cruyff Arena. Brobbey launched an absolute Chris Waddle of a penalty high into the stands…

… and then proceeded to crumble to the turf…

… face down, unable to believe what he had just done…

… providing a classic ‘you can see the exact moment his heart breaks in two’ moment…

But wait. Here comes Vilhena. You’ll remember from earlier that the former Feyenoord man had shushed the Ajax fans after (just about) scoring his first penalty, which you can understand: he was getting abuse, he scored, and his work was done for the night because there’s no way he would have to take another penalty, right?

Ah. Alas for him, he was facing the extraordinary Pasveer again. The 40-year-old isn’t Ajax’s first-choice goalkeeper, but he took his chance to make an impression here: Vilhena tried the same penalty as his first but this time, Pasveer got more of his body behind it and kept it out for his fifth save.

“Five is quite a lot, yes,” he deadpanned after the game, also saying that he was laughing with former Ajax midfielder Wesley Sneijder, on the touchline working for Dutch TV, during the shootout. “I save a penalty now and then, but I don’t think you often experience something as crazy as this.”

Pasveer last saved a regulation-time competitive penalty in 2021, in the Eredivisie while playing for Vitesse against Heerenveen. The last shootout he was involved in was again for Vitesse, against AVV Swift in the KNVB Cup (Dutch Cup) in 2017. He didn’t save any that night.

Ajax goalkeeper Pasveer celebrates during the shootout (Nikos Oikonomou/Anadolu via Getty Images)

“Remko asked why there was never a picture of a goalkeeper who has kept a clean sheet,” Farioli told AFP, referencing the many photos of Ajax greats that adorn the stadium’s walls. “I told him he should maybe play a bit better. But now I think we should quickly hang up a picture of him.”

Once more, Ajax had one kick to win it. This time they did something interesting: whereas the other players who had taken a second penalty had done so in the same order as the first round, Ajax mixed things up by sending winger Anton Gaaei up for their 17th penalty, in place of Henderson. He went low into the bottom corner, Dragowski went the wrong way and finally, finally, finally, it was over.

From the moment Mancini took the first penalty to Gaaei’s winner hitting the back of the net, 24 minutes and two seconds had elapsed. Ajax won 13-12 and progressed to the play-off round. If they beat Polish side Jagiellonia Bialystok they will qualify for the Europa League league phase.

This wasn’t the longest penalty shootout of all time. That title still belongs to SC Dimona and Shimshon Tel Aviv, who took 56 penalties in the Israeli third-tier play-off semi-final earlier this year.

But from Pasveer’s saves to Brobbey’s brace of misses and Farioli’s utter despair, there was more than enough drama to go around here.

Ajax face NAC Breda in their second Eredivisie game of the season this weekend. You suspect a nice, quiet, boring 1-0 win will do them nicely.

(Top photo: Nikos Oikonomou/Anadolu via Getty Images)

Greg Bodine’s hands quivered and his voice trembled. A cluster of his bottom eyelashes temporarily supported a teardrop before it cascaded down his cheek and onto his caddie bib.

Bryson DeChambeau — Bodine’s boss of 13 months — had just won the U.S. Open for the second time. Bodine had just become a major championship-winning caddie. There was obvious emotion surrounding the result as the 36-year-old looper fielded questions from a small group of reporters on Pinehurst’s 18th green, while DeChambeau accepted his trophy.

DeChambeau raised the reclaimed piece of hardware over his head. What club did Bryson hit for the winning bunker shot? The crowd erupted. Did you say anything to him before the round? DeChambeau went off on his victory lap. How did Bryson get his game to this point?

Standard stuff, the questions asked immediately to every caddie whose player has just won a trophy. Then: “How are you feeling?”

Bodine let out a deep exhale. He dipped his head and stared at the putting surface upon which the small group stood. A long pause. “So, there’s a backstory,” Bodine said, his mind going back 13 months to the day DeChambeau hired him. The tears — they were flowing now.

“The day that Bryson called,” Bodine said. “My wife and I found out that she had a miscarriage. We were actually at the hospital when Bryson called me.”

Caddying never really felt like a job for Bodine.

He played golf competitively growing up, and in high school, he already had his sights set on carrying the bag for his cousin, Andrew Putnam, a promising young player in the Seattle area, once he started his pursuit of professional golf. That dream became a reality and then it quickly snowballed into a career. In 2014, two years after first looping for Putnam at PGA Tour Q-School, Bodine, known as “G-Bo” on tour, secured then-rookie Tony Finau’s bag.

He stuck with the now six-time tour winner for nearly seven years. He accompanied Finau to his rise to the top 10 in the world before they parted ways in 2020. Why? The pair simply wasn’t winning together. Bodine had a young family back at home — his sons, Brooks and Parker, were 3 and 1 years old at the time, respectively. Kelsey, Bodine’s wife, had her hands full with the two boys. Finau was playing 30 to 35 weeks a year, and the tournaments that made the gig worth it were becoming rare. It was time for a change. It was time for Bodine to think about coming home.

The @nelkboys turned Bryson’s own caddie against him… pic.twitter.com/qlpJclTVLM

— Crushers GC (@Crushers_GC) February 19, 2024

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After a short stint caddying for Patrick Rodgers, Bodine knew what he wanted to do. He returned to Kirkland, Wash., to pursue a different dream, one that took some time to settle into. In March of 2021, the Pacific Northwest native returned to his pre-caddying existence — normal, simple family life — and set out to launch an indoor golf facility called Evergreen Golf Club. Bodine dedicated a large chunk of his caddie earnings to the business and pitched it to investors, including his co-founder, former Seahawks player Jermaine Kearse. By the winter of 2022, the company was off and running.

“I had a handful of people reach out to ask me to come back and caddie, on the PGA Tour and on LIV,” Bodine says. “But I was committed to getting Evergreen off the ground.”

Once that was done and Evergreen was running smoothly, Bodine could start to direct his full focus toward what had really drawn him away from life on tour: his family. Kelsey was pregnant with their third child.

“Being back home, one thing that we were looking forward to was growing our family and starting that next chapter,” Bodine says. “My wife was pregnant. She was in her second trimester. We told a handful of people and we were getting close to finding out the gender.”

One evening in early May of 2023, Kelsey knew something was wrong with the baby — very wrong. They booked an appointment that night for first thing the next day. That morning, before gathering their things and departing for the hospital, Bodine picked up an incoming call on his iPhone. He was greeted by the voice of Brett Falkhoff, DeChambeau’s agent, on the other line.

“Bryson’s making a caddie change, and he’s interested in hearing what you’re up to,” Falkhoff said. “OK if he gives you call?”

Without much thought, Bodine obliged. He was surprised by the inquiry, but not shocked. DeChambeau had been playing on the LIV tour for almost a year and he hadn’t seen much success. Falkoff described DeChambeau’s game as “rock bottom” during the brief call, Bodine said. When looping for Finau on the PGA Tour, they’d been paired with DeChambeau frequently and always got along.

But all of the thoughts, memories and wonders provoked by the call flashed through Bodine’s brain with little permanence. He couldn’t think about caddying. The call with Falkoff quickly slipped his mind.

At the hospital, Kelsey was taken into a private room where she underwent test after test. Bodine sat in the hallway, anxiously waiting for his wife to emerge with some semblance of hopeful news — a glimmer of hope for their child. That’s when Bodine saw his phone flash with another incoming call: Bryson DeChambeau.

“I didn’t tell him what was going on, he probably just thought I was sitting at my work or at my house or something,” Bodine says.

The pair caught up for a few minutes, the conversation spanning from the state of DeChambeau’s game to Bodine’s experience caddying in events like the Ryder Cup and Presidents Cup. It flowed well — they seemed to be on the same page. So they said goodbyes, agreeing to call each other back and reconnect later in the day. Still Bodine gave DeChambeau no indication of his whereabouts, his family situation, or his emotional distress.

As the hours went by, the test results began to come in. The Bodines’ worst nightmare had come true.

“Can you be in Tulsa in four days?” DeChambeau asked nonchalantly over the phone later that evening.

Bodine didn’t know how to respond. He had entertained the call with DeChambeau not knowing if it would end in a caddying job, let alone one that started in four days — four days after the miscarriage. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. So were Kelsey’s.

“Can I have a day to think about it?”

Bodine and his wife couldn’t make the decision on their own — it was too hard to even think. So they turned to family. They sat down for breakfast with his parents and dinner with hers. They approached close friends and mentors. They trusted their circle with the impossible task of processing a career-changing opportunity while they remained stunned with shock and grief. The LIV tournament could serve as a much-needed distraction, even if the job didn’t work out. But could Bodine handle it? Was the family prepared for this? Is this a good thing? They turned to faith.

“The night before, before anything suspicious was going on with Kelsey’s body, I never thought I would caddie again, and I thought we were having a third child that fall,” Bodine said. “I’m a very faith-driven guy, so I kind of took it as God telling us that this is a door opening, and that was a door closing.”

DeChambeau has been on a run in the majors since Bodine took over caddie duties. (Warren Little / Getty Images)

Everyone was on board, so long as everyone was going to Tulsa. Brooks’ sixth birthday was that week, and Bodine wasn’t spending it without him. Parker was coming along too. The family of four — plus Bodine’s mother — packed up their stuff and booked their flights to Oklahoma and set out on their new, unexpected chapter.

“You look at your kids, and weeks like that will remind you how precious they are.”

DeChambeau was struggling on LIV — badly. He was consistently finishing outside of the top 20 in 48-man events. His best result on LIV so far was a tie for 16th place.

Meanwhile, Bodine was running on pure adrenaline. He readjusted to the physical burdens of caddying and DeChambeau’s playing style by day, and by night, the family celebrated Brooks’ birthday at the hotel pool and the pizza joint across the street. No one in the group could have predicted their week would look like this. But it did. And it was something to be grateful for. They attempted, accepting intermittent success, to smile through the pain.

That week in Tulsa, with Bodine on his bag, DeChambeau finished in a tie for fifth, shooting 12-under-par to take home a $703,333 paycheck. With the standard 7 percent caddie fee, it’s safe to say Bodine had a good first tournament, too. Something was clicking.

The family headed home to Seattle that Sunday evening, but DeChambeau and Bodine took off for Rochester, N.Y., for the PGA Championship.

At the first major of the season, DeChambeau was one stroke back heading into the back nine on Sunday at Oak Hill. He ended the tournament in a tie for fourth place, his best finish in a major since his 2020 U.S. Open win at Winged Foot. That week, Bodine carried the bag, got his yardage numbers and read greens, but his heart was elsewhere. Kelsey was back home and recovering.

The next week, DeChambeau had more success: a top-10 finish at LIV’s D.C. event. Two weeks later DeChambeau posted a top 20 at the U.S. Open at LACC. The run continued. The unretired caddie carried on.

“Those first few months I was able to do it and get away with it,” Bodine said. “Bryson was there to play golf. I didn’t want pity or anything. I’ve told him that I’m always going to be ready to be his biggest cheerleader, but there was a lot going on.”

Bodine needed a cheerleader of his own.

It was early evening in Hertfordshire, England. Bodine walked, alone, down the first few holes of the Centurion Club, preparing his yardage book for the LIV event that coming weekend. DeChambeau had nearly won last week’s event in Spain, and The Open was fast approaching: Bodine had work to do. He decided to go out onto the course and get a head start on his preparation for the week.

By the fifth hole, it all became too much. Standing on his own in the middle of the empty fairway, Bodine fell apart.

He called home, to Kelsey.

“I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here right now,” Bodine told her.

The feelings were coming, always there during their frequent phone calls when Bodine was on the road. “We’d often spend nights trying to help each other through this whole thing,” he said.

His next call was to DeChambeau.

“I don’t think I can be here right now.”

DeChambeau knew what Kelsey and Bodine had been battling the last six weeks, but until that point, he hadn’t seen what kind of shape Bodine was really in. The caddie who did not miss a week in seven years with Finau caught a flight home to Seattle the next day, and DeChambeau found fill-ins for the tournament.

“Bryson knew the surface layer, but I’m pretty good at showing up to work. As a caddie, you can’t really have everyone feel sorry for you. Your job is to be an enabler and to lift your player up. I completely hit a wall after Spain. I told him I wouldn’t be doing this unless I thought it was absolutely necessary,” Bodine said.

When Bodine got back to Kelsey and the boys, he decided it was best for him to stay in Seattle for The Open, too. He had to press pause. He didn’t know if he’d ever caddie again. Nothing else mattered. Nothing except home. Bodine started going to therapy to address the anxiety he was feeling in the wake of the miscarriage, and he worked through his emotions to unpack the source of his reaction. He sat on his back porch with Kelsey for more than a few late-night talks. DeChambeau checked in every couple of days. He spent time with the boys and got back into a routine.

Three weeks passed, and he was still mentally fried. But it was time for a decision: A two-week stretch of domestic LIV events were coming up, with LIV Greenbrier in West Virginia being the first. DeChambeau wanted Bodine to come back. Kelsey was once again supportive. There was still a solid chance Bodine thought he might end up flying home on the Tuesday of the tournament. His parents agreed to tag along for the trip. It was worth a shot.

Bodine returned to DeChambeau’s bag in time for the latter’s 58 at Greenbrier last year. (Eakin Howard / Getty Images)

Thirteen birdies.

With Bodine on the bag, in the pouring rain, DeChambeau made 13 birdies — and one bogey — to shoot a historic 58 during the Sunday round of LIV Greenbrier. He came from behind and won his first event on LIV by six shots, leaping into the air when the final birdie putt dropped.

Bodine stood nearby, an umbrella resting on his shoulder as he watched in disbelief, a grin forming between his ears. The pair are back this week as LIV returns to the West Virginia resort.

“I looked around and I was like, I’m still mentally drained, and I still don’t know where life is going to take me, but I knew I had made the right decisions,” Bodine said. “I made the right decision to go home from the U.K, and the right decision to come back for Greenbrier. With how everything went on the course, with Bryson winning, it just felt like a large sense of gratification and thankfulness.”

It was the same overwhelming wave of emotion Bodine felt on the 18th green at Pinehurst No. 2.

There were too many moments over the past 13 months when Bodine had just held it together, whether that was to be a good husband or father or caddie. If he learned anything from this ongoing process of healing, it was to trust. Trust that life will work itself out. Trust the circle around you. Trust that sometimes, it’s OK to just let go.

“It’s been a battle,” Bodine said, “But I knew I was there for a reason. I knew that’s where I was supposed to be.”

(Top photo of Bryson DeChambeau, left, and Greg Bodine: Jared C. Tilton / Getty Images)