Facing new breed of tennis player is a tall order

It must be at least small reassurance to tennis pros of median size that the tour's tallest man, 6-10 Croatian Ivo Karlovic, formally withdrew from this year's U.S. Open last week while rehabilitating a surgically repaired Achilles tendon. And that Argentina's Juan Martin Del Potro, the 6-6 defending champion recovering from a wrist operation, is a doubtful participant.

Perhaps the Brobdingnagians will not take over the sport, after all. Three years ago, when 6-9 American John Isner debuted on the pro circuit, one of his first victims was veteran Tommy Haas, a mere 6-2, and Haas kidded that tour officials "should seriously consider making a rule: If you are over 6-6, you should not be allowed to play."

"I don't know what the deal is now," said 6-2 Andy Roddick, who lost to Isner in the third round of last year's Open. "I was actually kind of tall when I first came on the tour. That's just not the case anymore. It's not like I'm giving up an inch. I'm giving up a good 5 inches to the majority of my opponents . . . You can't teach 6-9."

This is no joke. (And don't ask Karlovic, "How's the weather up there?" His father is a meteorologist.) Taller players bring their serves from a frighteningly high angle, use their long arms to cover the net and generally produce more powerful ground strokes with their monster swipes.

Psychologically, as well, they can give their smaller opponents the willies; knowing the big guy's serve is so difficult to break means putting pressure on one's own serve. (Until Isner's surreal 70-68 fifth-set Wimbledon match this year, in which he pounded 113 aces, Karlovic had the top three single-match number of aces, at 78, 55 and 51.)

Still, the sport's most dominant players of the past decade - Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer - are of contemporary standard height, both 6-1. So, though a Big & Tall Man impact exists, the real development is one common to the human condition in general. People have grown.

"It's in all sports these days," said Sam Querrey, one of the more promising young Americans on the scene at 22 and himself 6-6. "Taller guys are just better athletes . It's not surprising anymore to have guys 6-6, 6-9 moving around the court."

Rod Laver, the last man to win the tennis Grand Slam whose career spanned from the 1950s through the '70s, is 5-7. By the 1980s, Ivan Lendl - who appeared in a record eight consecutive U.S. Open finals - was considered tall at 6-1.

A Wall Street Journal comparison of Open competitors between 1989 and 2009 found that the number of players 5-11 or shorter, in the 128-man field, went from 54 to 38, and the total of players 6-4 or taller went from 10 to 20. In the current rankings, besides Nadal and Federer, only one man is shorter than 6-2 - No. 6 Nikolay Davydenko, at 5-10.

As Querrey noted, being 6-6 not only gives a natural serving edge - "All tall guys hit huge serves," he said - but also insulates him against another tall guy's serve. "If they kick serve, it's easier for me to handle than, say, Olivier Rochus" - the tour's shortest man at 5-5.

The argument persists that physics also can work against the tallest players, who need more time to get their limbs' long levers working. Theoretically, moving them around the court, wrong-footing them, serving into their bodies and keeping the ball on their shoelaces levels the playing field.

Still, Karlovic's absence from the Open makes things a bit more possible for the (by comparison) little people.