Rosie (Rosemary) Casals “Rosebud”
Born: September 16, 1948
Hometown: San Francisco, California, United States
Citizenship: United States
Handed: Right
Inducted: 1996
Grand Slam Record
Wimbledon Doubles 1967-68, 1970-71, 1973
Doubles finalist 1970, 1972
Mixed finalist 1976
U.S. Singles finalist 1970-71
Doubles 1967, 1971, 1974, 1982
Doubles finalist 1966, 68, 70, 73, 75, 81
Mixed 1975
Mixed finalist 1967, 72
Australian Doubles finalist 1969
French Doubles finalist 1968, 70, 82
Tournament Record
Italian Doubles 1967, 70
Doubles finalist 1969
Fed Cup 1967, 1976-81
Wightman Cup 1976-82
Inaugural Virginia Slims 1970
First Family Circle 1973
Citizen Kane, who wasn’t much fun, had his mysterious “Rosebud.” There was, however, no mystery about the Rosebud of tennis, Citizen Casals. She just wanted to be the best ever. Inch-for-inch she was–and the fun flowed in all directions from this diminutive dynamo who took such joy from playing, and passed it along to grateful witnesses.
Tiny package, explosive contents. Tennis was no waiting game at the baseline for 62-inch Rosemary “Rosie/Rosebud” Casals. She went for the jugular fast, a serve-and-volleying acrobat whose incredible arsenal of strokes and tankful of competitive verve were necessities merely to stay alive among the sisterhood that established female professional tennis during the 1970s.
“I’m out there with (5-foot-11 Margaret ‘The Arm’) Court” recalls San Franciscan Casals, “with those arms and legs that stretch forever, and I had to make my shots count right away.”
They counted and counted and counted during a 15-year career in the stratosphere, 12 times Top Ten (1966-77), No. 3 in 1970. So that she was elevated to the Hall in 1996.
Billie Jean King and protégé Rosie Casals . . . names that went together like wine and roses. No finer female combo illuminated doubles. But all the while their influence as pioneering pros ran deeper than the five Wimbledon and two U.S. titles together. Although Rosie, the riveting volleyer, is the smallest modern in the tennis valhalla, she and Billie Jean were giants in launching the long march of the “Long Way Babies” as the Virginia Slims circuit began to take shape in 1970.
With another Hall of Famer, Gladys Heldman of World Tennis magazine, as behind-the-scenes organizer and encourager, B.J. and Rosie were the ringleaders on court, close doubles partners, frequent final-round saleswomen for the emerging tour. They were perfect role players, feisty but goodhumored kids off the public courts who believed women had a destiny in professional sport. A born (September 16, 1948) and bred San Franciscan, Rosie started at Golden Gate Park.
“Those early Slims days were an exciting time, and a little scary, too, although I laugh looking back at 1970,” Rosie says. “Even though open tennis came in 1968, the men got most of and publicity. The tournaments were still like the amateur days, men and women together. We knew we had to break away, go on our own. That first Slims tournament,’70 in Houston, the USTA didn’t like our rebel ways and threatened to suspend us Americans if we played. They did, and for a while we wondered if that was the end of tennis for us. Of course it wasn’t.”
A full Slims tour commenced in 1971 and King and Casals “played our little bahoolas off”–Billie Jean’s words. That year Rosie played a record 32 tournaments in singles, 31 in doubles, amounting to 205 matches while Billie Jean was in the same neighborhood with 36-21-210. More than 200 matches in a season? Steffi Graf has played as many as 117 only once.
Different times. “We had to play much more than they do today because the money was slight. “Rosie offers her soulful gamine’s smile, and shrugs when you mention her unapproachable record of playing 685 singles and doubles tournaments. “If you won both the singles and doubles it was worth only a couple of thousand bucks. You couldn’t afford to default with an injury. And we were paying all our own expenses not getting free hotel and per diem like the stars now. But I’m glad for them. We were trying pave the way.
“I got $3,750 when I lost the U.S. Open final to Court, the last victim in her Grand Slam. Not even close to what a first-round loser got in ’96 [$10,000]. But it didn’t matter. We thought we were rich, and there was a great feeling of family, of being together to make the tour work, provide the future of the game.”
A distant relative of the cello virtuoso, Pablo Casals, the Rosebud improvised brilliant cadenzas on her strings. For sheer shotmaking sorcery, plus merrymaking on one side of the net, the amalgam of Casals and Ilie Nastase, winning the Wimbledon mixed in 1970 and l972, may never be equalled. “I had to take care of him, mother him a little when he went crazy,” she says.
Doubles was her shtick, 56 of the titles with King. But Rosie was a singles contender at all the majors, and beat King and clay maven Nancy Richey in succession to win the first big bucks tourney, the Family Circle Cup, worth $30,000 to her, in l973. She won 11 singles, 112 pro doubles titles, the latter second only to Martina Navratilova’s 162, collecting the last as a 41-year-old, “for old times’ sake,” in Oakland in 1988 alongside Martina. Her prize money, $1,364,955. Casals was a quarterfinalist or better in all the majors: Australian semifinal, 1967; French quarterfinal, 1969 and 1970; Wimbledon semifinal, 1967, 1969, 1970, 1972; U.S. final, 1970, 1971, semifinal, 1969.
Dashing dressmaker, Hall of Famer Ted Tinling, adored her, gowning Rosie in spangles, sequins, a variety of color combinations. At Wimbledon ’72 they caused a stir when his purple-squiggled dress–with Casals in it–was evicted. “It was predominantly white, complying with the rules,” she says, “but the purple designs upset the referee. He ordered me off the court to change. I loved to get their goat and enjoyed the whole scene.”
“It became a famous dress and beat me to the Hall of Fame to be displayed some time ago.” But Citizen Casals has caught up with her notorious frock, and a Rosebud now blooms in Newport.
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