Many events in Iran in the 1970s were credited to the Ayatollah Khomeini. But never for preventing the son of the Iranian hill tribesman from winning Wimbledon.
Mansour Bahrami is the magical maverick who can serve while holding six tennis balls in his hand, catch tennis balls in his shorts pocket while playing an unlikely winning shot, and
smash volleys that spin erratically back across the net. It's a remarkable story, and tennis fans around the world will be familiar with him.
Bahrami, however, is the greatest Wimbledon champion we never applauded; he is more than just a light-weight juggler who amuses the crowd.
He is thought to be the greatest naturally gifted player to ever take up a racquet, according to Rod Laver.
Because he didn't acquire a real tennis racquet until he was thirteen and taught himself to play using a rusted old metal frying pan and other implements,
he is without a doubt the best player to ever use a kitchen tool.
Bahrami was not able to become a well-known tennis player, though, as the then-rulers of Iran believed that tennis was a decadent Western activity that could never be encouraged.
So you want to hear my life story? Mansour stated in 1997, when he was 41 years old and still playing Davis Cup tennis.
Really, do you think they'll agree to this? Yes, I do believe that my narrative is a little peculiar—what with the frying pan,
the lack of money, the years spent being unable to hit a tennis ball, the sleeping on the streets of Paris, and the evading the police.
Bahrami was thirteen years old when the Shah's associates in the Iranian Tennis Federation became aware of the presence of a young prodigy.
He was ultimately given the go-ahead to play tennis and compete after a number of years.
On his Davis Cup debut in 1975, Mansour was defeated by Roger Taylor of Great Britain 6-0, 6-0, 6-2.
He claimed, "I was prohibited from hitting a ball for three years," and he continued to reside in Iran. I kept myself going all day by playing backgammon.
Then, when Tehran staged a singles tennis competition, his luck turned around. According to Mansour, who claimed to have won the contest.
"Since there are many regional competitions with awards, I chose France. But to receive the cash, you must triumph, he added.
Due to the conservative government in Iran, Mansour lost three years of his career, and the six years that followed saw him practically imprisoned in France.
"A political refugee is a person who might die if they went back to their own country.
Even though I was only a tennis player, I forbade myself from leaving France for fear of being denied entry."
Finally, I was unable to renew my French visa, so I came here illegally. Every time I spotted a policeman coming, I took a detour.
If they had asked for my papers or identification, they would have put me on the first aeroplane back to Iran.
Mansour was thirty years old when he was finally allowed to register for the ATP as a full-time professional player.
I was 33 years old when I advanced to the French Open doubles championship. Am I angry? No, I'm not angry; in fact, I feel quite lucky.
I like to play. It makes me happy to think that I am amusing people. I can't tell you how many games I lose that I should surely win because I'm joking.
I frequently succeed, but I don't believe the audience is pleased, so I get frustrated. I like to laugh at other people. When the audience laughs, I am the happiest man alive.
When you can, watch Mansour Bahrami; you'll burst out laughing at his antics and rejoice in the greatest Wimbledon Champion.