The history of the very best of men's tennis has a grand lineage in bad boys. The golden era of the sport, "the tennis boom" of the 1970s, brought us the wild and (to some, infuriating) antics of John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, and Ilie Nastase. While there were always 'perfect gentleman' at the top as well, like Bjorn Borg then or Roger Federer now, it would be a mistake to gloss over the significance of Big Personality players for the overall health of the sport.

What makes GUILLE such a Bad Boy?

 

"We have big balls," Guille has said of being an Argentine tennis wonder.

 

He's beautiful, he's bold, and he is a master of what to do with a heavy set of balls, as shown here.

"Why are you trying to get in on the show...since you can't see anyway," Connors would say to a linesman, famously calling a Chair umpire "an abortion" before stroking up and down the handle of his racquet from between his legs.

For McEnroe, confronting linesman and officials customarily became abusive, and lead to holding up play by sitting down and refusing to get up, or demanding the referee become involved before picking up his racquet, mumbling something about someone's mother on his way back on court.

Nastase would rub out lines with his foot before they could be checked, distracting his opponent with comedic antics that both relieved his own nerves and robbed his opponent's momentum.

So what about Guille?

Coria's antics don't necessarily compare with the theatrics of his exhaulted predecessors for pure vulgarity, distraction, or outrage, but he is playing in a more conservative time with often restrictive attitudes about conduct. More and more, networks want "Mama's apple-pie" bubbly personalities to sell tennis' squeaky clean image like human products for image-conscious sponsors. So what's a bad boy caught in such a time to do?

The answer, of course: Be who you are. And the originality of Guillermo Coria's personality does make a statement loud and clear, whether it thrills or upsets the fans, announcers, or crowds.

 

Even young Coria was an expressive comedian on court.

A sport that highlights individual character and personality, perhaps more than any other, tennis gives us great rebels that shake up the establishment with their conduct, outspokenness, and refusal to fit in, or just utter lack of interest in fitting into the mold or the scene. The latter being especially true of King Coria, Guille has resisted learning english and the North American press has not gone out of their way to become better informed about this South American Original. Their loss.

Coria questions calls, he looks at lines in search of the aura of the mark after its been made, he asks to wait until fans are done stirring about before beginning play, and he is aware of imperfections in the state of the court surface and wastes no time at pointing them out to officials.

Bottom line: Guillermo Coria is a perfectionist. He is aware of everything, every movement and sound on the court. This is the exact same reason he is such a brilliant player rather than being one more deeply ordinary one. His intense sensitivity sets him apart.

He's also aware of where the cameras are, and often runs by after a point to squeeze the lense head with his hand as a greeting to his fans watching on TV. And sometimes, he treats us to one of his patented GUILLE MOJO VICTORY DANCES as after his dramatic semifinal victory at 2004 Roland Garros, seen below.

And what about Coria's rep with other players? Guille is known to be a loner, and doesn't attempt to join in the other player's "reindeer games" ... sometimes when you set yourself apart it is not seen as a type of shyness but that you think you are superior. And of course, on the tennis court, he usually is. Holding an 18-1 career record against his fellow Argentines up until the 04 French final, a history of winning and dominating doesn't always make you many friends.

When John McEnroe was asked, "What does Coria do that upsets other players so much?" Mac responded with a laugh, "For one thing, he's a great player and he beats them."

 

"Coria is an ornery guy," US Davis Cup team captain & broadcast announcer Patrick McEnroe has said. "I like him."

 

Johnny Mac (right) was the official Bad Boy of the 70s

But if you want a hint of his real deeper nature, just look at the choices that have been made in his personal life:

A man with an international flock of fans and worshippers could have had his pick of thousands of beauties, but chose to marry his childhood sweetheart.

And with his pick of grand estates around the world, he chose to live in his home town, often staying in the same house with his grand mother who still offers warm home-cooked meals.

Likewise, instead of focusing only on his own career and success, Guille has lent his name and money to help support his ailing country by opened a tennis academy in Argentina for children under 16 to develop their games, their love of tennis, and hopefully their futures.

So Guille can stick his tongue out at the nay-sayers because he is, indeed, King Coria!

In the end, Bad Boy Coria is simply a man of unusually high personal standards and talent. But like many true artists, the brilliance is attached to inner conflict and complex difficulties, and a sometimes almost tortured tempermentalism. All surrounding a heart of gold and pure intentions.

What we have here is a classic case of the "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful" syndrome.

 

Pictured right, Guille gave the shirt off his back to a ball girl after accidentally mishandling his racquet between points during the 2003 French Open semi. Viewers agree...she was more than glad to have it.