Sports as cultural touchstone: How road tennis unites a nation
Barbados may be known for its white sand beaches, crystal clear waters and killer fish sandwiches, but many here are hoping street tennis will soon become synonymous with the Caribbean island.
The sport arose in response to classism and racism in the 1930s, which excluded many Barbadians from private clubs and tennis courts. The game is compared to a combination of table tennis and lawn tennis. Players use what appear to be oversized wooden ping pong bats with flat handles and hit the ball over a low net.
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The rise, fall and revival of street tennis in Barbados is a testament to the island nation’s resilience and sense of community, as well as its recent push for equality and innovation.
“Street tennis was a gem for us,” says seventy-year-old Keith Griffith, who remembers collecting stray tennis balls on the street outside his house as a kid and setting up a court. “You could just go out and play.”
Street tennis began to lose momentum in the 1990s, but has seen a resurgence in recent years thanks to efforts to professionalize the sport. Now the government has nominated “Barbados’ only indigenous sport” for inclusion in UNESCO and nominated as an Olympic sport.
“This sport is about taking what you have and making something beautiful out of it,” said Dale Clarke of the Professional Road Tennis Association. “Street tennis, like Barbados, is a story of innovation.”
Seventy-year-old Keith Griffith recalls meeting friends outside his house as a child, dragging a low wooden plank into the middle of the street to play a uniquely Barbadian sport called street tennis – and having the time of his life doing it.
Barbados may be known for its white sand beaches, crystal clear waters and killer fish sandwiches, but many here are hoping street tennis will soon become synonymous with the Caribbean island.
The sport arose in response to classicism and racism in the 1930s, which excluded many Barbadians or Bajans from private clubs and tennis courts. Locals like Mr. Griffith recall children collecting stray tennis balls that flew over traditional tennis court fences and removing the green fluff to use the rubber inside for their games. Whenever a car approached, they placed the approximately 20 cm high board, which served as a net, on the curb.
Why we wrote this
A story that focuses on that
The rise, fall and revival of street tennis in Barbados is a testament to the island nation’s resilience and sense of community, as well as its recent push for equality and innovation.
“Street tennis was a gem for us,” says Mr Griffith, now 79, who played until about six years ago when he retired due to ill health. “You could just go out and play.”
The game is compared to a combination of table tennis and lawn tennis. Players use what appear to be oversized wooden ping pong bats with flat handles, making wrist work crucial. The “net” is so low to the ground that the players must be too. This means that the back, buttocks and knees are thoroughly trained.
Today, the sport is more formalized, with uniform pitch sizes, official governing bodies, and government-sponsored efforts to export the game around the globe. A single tournament can net the winner thousands of dollars or even a new car. But the professionalization of street tennis and the dream of spreading it far beyond Barbados’ borders have not erased the beauty of its humble beginnings, players and supporters say.
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“This sport is about taking what you have and making something beautiful out of it,” said Dale Clarke, CEO of the Professional Road Tennis Association. “Street tennis, like Barbados, is a story of innovation.”
An inviting sport
Hidden behind rows of candy-colored houses and cars in various stages of repair lies the Sauna, a mechanic’s workshop that has become the community’s meeting place and training center.
On a sweltering weekday afternoon, a group of men ranging in age from their late teens to late 70s watch as a white rubber ball flies back and forth across the 10-foot by 21-foot pitch. On weekends, passers-by play cards, get their hair cut, and eat hot, local sandwiches like roti and fish cutters. Indoors or out, street tennis is a central part of everyday life — a magnet for socializing, says Anthony “Baku” Simmons, who turned his auto repair shop into a sauna in the late 1990s. “I just love the sport,” he says of his motivation for building the space.
By bringing communities together to socialize and play sport, street tennis creates a sense of unity, says Frederick Blunt, president of the Barbados Road Tennis Association. “Whoever is good wants the sport to continue and grow.”
Across town, in the Belfield neighborhood, Trevor Ifill sits under a shaded pavilion next to three street tennis courts accented in bright blue, green, and yellow. He says that despite his background as a cricket and football player, he didn’t pay much attention to street tennis until the pandemic, when it became one of the few social and physical activities left across the island. Today he is addicted.
Street tennis is “really an inviting sport,” he says. “You can even call the best player in Barbados and when he’s free he’ll come to play you or coach you.”
Carlyn “The Model” Herbert, a former world street tennis champion, began playing with her brothers when she was a child. Today, their grown children are victorious and following in their footsteps. “It keeps you fit — and gives you the right to show off,” she says.
Whitney Eulich
Trash talk is part of the fun. “Maybe someone will see you and say, ‘Oh, you’re good!'” says Mr. Ifill, while a father and son play volleyball next to him on one of the courts. “But then they add, loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘But I’m better!'” he says, laughing.
The revival of street tennis
In the 1990s, street tennis started to lose momentum, says Blunt. However, it has been revived in recent years, as clubs have been officially formed in various neighborhoods, spaces in community parks have become more popular, and tournament prize pools have grown exponentially.
“Street tennis was on its deathbed,” says Mr Clarke. “It was only played in the poorest areas and had a reputation for being a ‘lower class’ sport.” That has changed, thanks in part to Mr Clarke’s vision to professionalize the game. “It used to be $300 and a plastic cup,” he says of winning a tournament.
He looked for sponsors to increase the prize pool, set up seating around the pitches and cordoned off spectator areas to give the game a more professional feel. Local media started covering big games and tournaments, and both women’s and men’s teams receive equal prize money, emphasizing equality in sport.
“There was a possibility of a small social revolution. Empowering people through sport,” he says. “The amazing thing is how accessible it is – to all people, all classes. Nobody will keep you away. It’s inclusive, and that’s because of its roots.”
The elements that gave the game a reputation for being, as Mr. Clarke puts it, “poor man’s tennis” – such as no need for fancy equipment, stadiums or even shoes – give it so much potential today. The Barbadian government recognizes the potential of the sport by designating street tennis as the “only indigenous sport in the country” and nominating it for inscription on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List.
Barbadians have traveled everywhere from Dubai to Cuba to play and provide coaching, and more and more playgrounds are springing up around the world. Prime Minister Mia Mottley presented street tennis as an Olympic sport to the President of the International Olympic Committee in March.
“As small as we are, we have much to share and give to the world,” Culture Minister Shantal Munro-Knight said in an address at the Barbados Museum and Historical Society in May. “We’re emphasizing street tennis… because we understand the value we have.”
At the end of a cul-de-sac in the neighborhood of Barbarees Hill, seventy-year-old Cecil Ferdinand sits next to a street tennis court painted in the middle of the street.
Mr. Ferdinand recalls watching as a child his uncle playing lost balls at lawn tennis games in more affluent parts of town. They came home and drew a field on the road with charcoal. Today, players can buy balls that are specially made for street tennis. He admits there are a lot of changes he likes to bitch about, yet one thing remains the same: “It’s a sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet game.”