by Tennis fans of a certain generation will always remember Alan Mills, who has died aged 88, as Wimbledon’s “Rain Man”.
the referee of the competition between 1983 and 2005, his arrival at the side of the court usually predicted an imminent stoppage. But observing the weather was only one part of Mills’ job. Another was discussing the closest generation of players ever to hurling a racket.
“Players were a lot more flexible in those days,” said Gerry Armstrong, who completed his own four-year term as Wimbledon referee last summer. “[Ilie] Nastasya, [John] McEnroe, [Jimmy] Connors. Alan wanted to keep the peace on the court, and there was not even a code of conduct at that time, nor any training for officers. We have it easy today, in comparison, because that was the most difficult era.
“The atmosphere was completely different then,” said Armstrong, who was working at the Australian Open this week. “He was always running from one court to another to put out fires, which is why he probably should have quit smoking much earlier. I think it was just him and the umpires as well, but now we have seven supervisors out here in Melbourne to keep an eye on things.”
Mills was a talented player who reached the last 16 of Wimbledon three times, and beat Rod Laver once at the Hurlingham Club in south-west London. He then floated between coaching jobs, while also spending time as a public school teacher, before replacing Fred Hoyle as Wimbledon referee at the age of 47.
Neither of Mills’ predecessors as referee was popular. Captain Mike Gibson was an irascible, authoritarian man whose attitude to rain – locker room legends – was “keep going until the balls float”. Hoyle was a gentleman farmer from Lincolnshire and his lack of a tennis background was frowned upon in some quarters.
But Mills was perfect for the role. According to Richard Lewis, a former Davis Cup player who spent almost ten years as chief executive of the All England Club, “Alan was very easy and relaxed to talk to. Because of his experience, he always understood why players were asking their questions and provided very helpful answers and explanations.”
In Mills’ own words, “They are [the players] treated almost like the naughty schoolboy going in front of the principal. And so right from the start I let the players know that my door is always open. I would much rather if they had a grievance that they would come in and address it instead of discussing it in the locker room.”
In fact, it was probably the arrival of the “bad boy” generation in the 1980s that drove Hoyle into retirement. Mills used to joke that 18-year-old McEnroe was the first player to call him out on the court first as a tennis official at Roehampton in 1977. Then, when Mills was promoted to to the full Wimbledon post, McEnroe was the first player to claim his presence again.
Despite some remonstrances, McEnroe would later give Mills a copy of his autobiography, You Can’t Be Serious. He wrote an inscription on the sheet that said “Alan, you always treated me fairly, even when I didn’t deserve it. You are a good man. It’s not your fault you’re a referee.”
One of Mills’ toughest calls came in 1995, when 20-year-old Tim Henman hit a ball in anger and accidentally hit a ball girl in the ear. Mills had to disqualify Henman, although he felt sympathy for the fact that there was no intent involved.
“He was the ultimate referee, always in command and in charge no matter how difficult the rain delay at Wimbledon was,” Henman told Telegraph Sport. “He was also a dear friend who I will not have to see socially at Wimbledon.”
For BBC viewers of the period, the sight of Mills was rarely welcomed. He would arrive at the side of the court, brow furrowed and gaze focused on the descending clouds, walkie-talkie in hand. These were the days before roofs on Center Courts and No. 1, so a stop would normally signal another replay of the Borg-McEnroe tie from 1980.
But to those in the locker room or the umpires’ office, Mills was always popular. His successor, Andrew Jarrett, is particularly generous in his praise.
“It was one of the greatest privileges of my life to first assist, then shadow and finally take over the role of the best tennis umpire in the world,” Jarrett told Telegraph Sport. “I will never forget how he always accepted me and helped me. I will really miss his funny eyes, enthusiasm and good mood.
“A few years ago we sat together having a cup of tea and a chat during Wimbledon. Out of nowhere it suddenly started to rain heavily. Everyone was racing around to cover the courts and every activity station was across the grounds. We looked across the table, shared a very familiar look and laughed and all we could say was ‘Would you like another tea?’”
