The women who changed the sport of tennis forever
Rebels, renegades, revolutionaries, and realists: ask each member of the Original 9 – the band of female tennis players who signed $1 contracts on 23 September 1970 to play a women’s-only professional tournament – what that moment means to them as they reflect on its impact 50 years later, and you will get nine different answers.
One incontrovertible truth rings out, however: the stand taken by Billie Jean King, Rosie Casals, Nancy Richey, Kerry Melville Reid, Peaches Bartkowicz, Kristy Pigeon, Judy Dalton, Valerie Ziegenfuss and Julie Heldman changed the sport forever.
Today, tennis players dominate Forbes’ annual list of the world’s highest-paid female athletes. Over the past decade, 84 per cent of spots in their top 10 have come from tennis, including the top earner each year. Since 2007, men’s and women’s events at all four majors have received equal prize money. The sport has become increasingly global, with players from Denmark, Belarus, Romania, Japan, Belgium and Serbia rising to the top of the WTA rankings alongside those from traditional tennis powerhouse nations like USA, Australia, Germany and Spain, and tournaments on six continents.
But reality was rather different for the Original 9 – and on that day in 1970, they had no way of knowing where their actions may lead. Nevertheless, under threat of sanctions and suspension, they took a leap of faith that changed the course of tennis history.
“I was very scared and very excited, and I think the others felt the same way,” said King, who played a pivotal role in the drive for action. “We had no idea what was going to happen – we just knew we had the dream, the vision.
“First, we wanted any girl born in the world, if she was good enough, will have a place to compete; Second, women would be recognised for their accomplishments, not only their looks; and finally, and the most important thing, to be able to make a living playing professional tennis.”
The Open era was just two years old in 1970, but already a chasmic gender gap had formed. While professional tennis was offering male players a steady, and in some cases lucrative, income, women were very much second-class citizens from a financial standpoint. With prize money ratios of 8:1 in favour of the men – and sometimes more – making a living from tennis was barely viable for most women on the circuit.
“The cost of travelling to events was a real issue,” recalls Bartkowicz, a former Wimbledon junior champion who was 21 years old when she held her $1 bill aloft. “I remember going to Europe, winning the first six tournaments I played and actually losing money. It was a no-brainer that something had to be done, so when Houston came up, I didn’t hesitate at all.”
For others, establishment restrictions were as much an issue as the prize funds on offer. “I actually worked as a bookkeeper when I wasn’t playing tennis,” said Judy Dalton, one of two Australians to sign up alongside seven Americans. “In those days, the Lawn Tennis Association of Australia wouldn’t let any of us – men or women – play more than six months of the year. These days, that would be called restraint of trade!”
Signing on as contract players with Gladys Heldman, the publisher of World Tennis magazine, the nine agreed to compete in a new women's tour, the Virginia Slims Series, starting with the inaugural Virginia Slims Invitational in Houston, with an eight-player field and a prize fund of $7,500 – five times the $1,500 being offered at the Pacific Southwest Championships, which had a men’s prize fund of $12,500.
“I still feel the same way as I did then about the inequities,” admits Richey, who by then was a two-time Grand Slam champion. “We were so discriminated against – I was at the point where I didn't care if I never played another Grand Slam. I felt we were kind of going down a dead end anyway.”
The tennis establishment refused to sanction the Houston tournament, and threatened to blacklist participants – meaning they could lose the right to play at Grand Slam tournaments, represent their country in team competitions, and be stripped of national rankings. The players were immediately suspended by their national federations and the ILTA, though the governing bodies relented within a matter of weeks.
“Jeopardising the chance to play Grand Slams was probably the riskiest part of going against the old establishment,” said Casals. “What else were we risking? We were really second-class citizens when we played at sanctioned tournaments alongside the men – and that meant all tournaments. In that sense we didn't have a lot to lose.
“Prior to Houston, Billie Jean, Francoise [Durr], Ann Jones and I had become contract pros, playing alongside Laver, Rosewall, Gonzales, Emerson and the other male pros. The four of us got a better deal at those events, and it gave us a taste of what was possible. We could see that in order to gain anything we had to risk something, and we were prepared to do it.”
Casals went on to win the landmark tournament – the Virginia Slims Invitational in Houston, Texas – beating Dalton in the final. Buoyed by its success, and by Gladys Heldman’s coup of attaching cigarette firm Philip Morris as a sponsor, the first full Virginia Slims Circuit launched in San Francisco in 1971, with 19 tournaments and total prize money of $309,100. By October, Billie Jean King had become the first female athlete to earn $100,000 in a single season.
“I remember not knowing what the tournament in Houston would lead to,” said Ziegenfuss. “But overall, I really believed in Billie Jean as our leader and I really believed in Gladys Heldman as our promoter. And I liked women's tennis: I believed in our product.
“For me at that time, it was about equal opportunity to play more than equal prize money. I felt we deserved that, because we brought the people in! We had such great feedback. People would say, 'Oh we like watching you girls, the rallies are so much longer.'”
“A few weeks earlier, I’d helped circulate a questionnaire during the US Open which asked for the public’s views on women’s tennis,” Dalton said. “Plenty of male fans said they enjoyed it more, actually, because they could associate their own games with it – the rallies, tactics and so on – and that was another reason to be confident.”
Still, the early days of the Virginia Slims tour were anything but easy. The players doubled up as publicists for events, tracking down newspaper offices and radio stations to spread the word when they arrived in town, even handing out tickets at grocery stores and hosting tennis clinics – all while competing against one another on court.
“Crazy things would happen on the new circuit,” recalls Julie Heldman, daughter of Gladys, who had won gold, silver and bronze medals when tennis was an exhibition event at the Mexico 1968 Olympics.
“A newspaper would send out the fashion reporter instead of the sports reporter. We had to explain to them how the scoring worked, what a backhand was. But I didn’t see the off-court stuff as a distraction. We needed to do it. We all had to go to cocktail parties and do clinics and go on TV and talk to journalists, because that was the way we were going to get the tour started.”
“It was incredibly hard work, but a lot of funny things happened on the Virginia Slims Circuit that first year,” adds Pigeon, who at 20 was the youngest member of the Original 9. “The one thing that came out for me was the voraciousness of women competitors. I think women are more competitive than men! Once, in Kansas City, we were staying at a Holiday Inn and sharing four cars – four players for one car. Girls would hide the keys so the rest of us couldn’t get around. Lots of squabbles but also great camaraderie; good times.”
Three years after signing those $1 contracts, Billie Jean King founded the Women’s Tennis Association on the eve of Wimbledon 1973 with the support of 63 fellow players, bringing together the various women’s circuits under a single governing body. After winning all three titles at the All England Club that year, King went on to beat Bobby Riggs in the Battle of the Sexes at the Houston Astrodome that September, an event watched by 90 million people and reported around the world.
“We were thinking globally, even then,” King said of the importance of that day in 1970. “And we were also talking way beyond sport; we were talking about changes in society. Remember, we were well into the second wave of the women’s movement at this time. We were hearing a lot in the media and in daily life and getting to understand the facts better – what we had, what we didn't have, as women.
“What we started back on September 23, 1970 is alive and well today, and the players on the WTA Tour are living our dream.”
Today, the WTA is the global leader in women’s professional sport, with more than 1,650 players representing 84 nations competing for a record $180 million in prize money. A global audience of 700 million watched WTA tennis in 2019, with over 50 events played worldwide. To coin a phrase used by their precursor circuit’s sponsor, they truly have come a long way.
“Looking back, I'm just really proud to have been one of the first girls, and proud of what tennis has become,” said Melville Reid. “Back then, it did mean a lot of extra work for us, doing so much PR and the like – I don't know how we had time to hit a ball, actually!”
“I knew tennis back in the amateur days when we had to take the subway from Midtown Manhattan out to Forest Hills carrying our bags, and then take the subway back,” Richey added. “Every time I walk into the US Open at Flushing Meadows I hug myself, because it's what we dreamed would happen in our game.
“I’m really proud of the fact that I was one of the ones that helped bring it all in – I mean, you can’t put a price on that. I’m glad I saw and participated in the amateur days, the transition to Open tennis and the early days of the WTA Tour. That’s a wonderful thing.”
The WTA will be hosting a virtual charity fundraiser, A Salute to the Original 9 & Gladys Heldman, staged by WTA Charities in association with the Billie Jean King Leadership Initiative. Click here for more information.