Jay Clarke admits PTPA lawsuit was ‘much bigger than I anticipated'
The 26-year-old was the only British player named as a plaintiff in the explosive case, which has pitted the Professional Tennis Players Association, a body co-founded by Novak Djokovic, against organisations including the ATP and WTA.
The PTPA branded the governing bodies as a cartel, with Wimbledon and the other grand slams named as co-conspirators.
𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗶𝘀.
Today, the PTPA and over a dozen players, on behalf of the entire professional population, filed a sweeping series of legal actions against the ATP, WTA, ITF and ITIA to reform professional tennis. https://t.co/1r4LWQpopP
— Professional Tennis Players Association (@ptpaplayers) March 18, 2025
Djokovic notably was not named as a plaintiff and quickly sought to distance himself from some of the aspects of the case, and Clarke subsequently decided to take his name off the lawsuit.
He also reached out to Wimbledon to clarify his position, and Clarke's role in the case did not prevent him being awarded a wild card for a fifth time.
'I love being here,' he said. 'I've played Wimbledon a number of times, trying to be a member here and stuff like that as well. I know a lot of the people inside.
'I don't think it's necessarily a big thing. I just needed to kind of say where I stood on it. I just think it was much bigger than I anticipated initially.'
On the strong language used in the lawsuit, which accuses the governing bodies of systemic abuse, anti-competitive practices, and a blatant disregard for player welfare, Clarke added: '(It was) very surprising, to be honest. I think everyone was surprised by that.
'I think it kind of caught us all off guard. Obviously, we're tennis players, we're not lawyers, so it's just not something that I was comfortable doing.'
Clarke does, though, support a lot of the PTPA's demands, including a better distribution of wealth and a greater focus on player welfare.
The Derby player, who is ranked 199th, underwent wrist surgery in 2023 and he said: 'I played four Challengers in India, obviously coming back from wrist surgery, four weeks in a row in the same country and we're using different balls every week. And it's just these things need to be better. I think it's a really simple fix.
'I'm not alone. I think all tennis players want tennis to improve, want it to push forwards. I don't think someone on my ranking should be watching pennies trying to figure out which flight is cheaper, and stuff like that.
'I did nine weeks in India. It's a lot of travel. I had a coach with me every week. After paying flights and stuff, I was £3,000 pounds down. And the second half of the trip I won 18 matches and lost two. So it is really tough.
'I think tennis is a big enough sport, and it generates enough revenue, for more than 100 people to be benefiting from the sport. I think a lot of the other sports, they have a better revenue split and tennis is too far behind in that.'
This week will certainly help Clarke's finances. A Wimbledon wild card comes with guaranteed prize money of £66,000, and that would increase to £99,000 if he can get the better of fellow British wild card Dan Evans in the first round and set up a likely meeting with Djokovic.
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Daily Mail
26 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
ROBERT HARDMAN: The staggering naivety of armchair warrior judge, as reconstruction exposes flaws in controversial SAS legal ruling
Standing on the very spot where it all happened, I am trying to envisage being part of that SAS unit who were lying just behind a low hedge here in February 1992. Three cars and a lorry full of gun-toting IRA terrorists have just screeched to a halt in front of you, the gun barrel of their Russian-built 'Dushka' heavy machine gun still hot from perforating a police station. At which point, according to a senior British judge, there was only one correct and legal course of action. The SAS commanding officer should have stood up and declared: 'Hands up! Put down your weapons. You are all under arrest.' Is it any wonder that British Special Forces veterans now warn that soldiers are more at risk from 'lawfare' than warfare? As I retrace the events of that night in slow motion, in the company of someone who knows that operation as well as anyone, I begin to despair of the creeping judicial over-reach that has now replaced common sense with legalistic wishful thinking. Short of issuing instructions that the correct way to handle a charging elephant is with a pea shooter or that the appropriate response to a great white shark is to poke it in the eye, I cannot think of a more naive idea than the solution by Mr Justice Humphreys, presiding coroner for Northern Ireland, for disarming nine men pointing a heavy machine gun at your face. Yet it is no joke. As a result, the judge has handed down a ruling at Northern Ireland's Coroner's Court which now casts serious doubt on the way in which the British state defends itself from future enemies. All is tranquil at Clonoe chapel these days, the scene little changed except that the original hedge has vanished beneath an extension to the car park. The SAS did indeed come here that night with the aim of capturing the East Tyrone Brigade of the IRA red-handed in the act of preparing an attack, though they were ready for every eventuality. And events did not go to plan. The terrorists suddenly drove in already fully armed, their headlights exposing the soldiers lying on the ground. In that split second, the commanding officer had no idea if they had been spotted. Should he gamble his men's lives by waiting to find out? Moments later, four IRA men lay dead with one injured and four more escaping. The IRA, Sinn Fein and the families of the dead now want this treated as a crime against humanity. So, 33 years on, and with £1.3million of taxpayers' money already spent on a 'legacy inquest', those SAS soldiers must wait to see if they are to be prosecuted for murder. That is because Sir Michael Humphreys (to give him his full title) has sent a file to the Director of Public Prosecutions having ruled that the SAS were in breach of the Human Rights Act – which did not even exist at the time. Both the Ministry of Defence and the veterans have now demanded a judicial review of the judge's decision. Sinn Fein has described any quibbling with Sir Michael's wisdom as 'disgraceful' and 'a cynical attempt to deny families truth and justice'. You do not have to probe very far to realise it would, in fact, be 'disgraceful' to let his verdict stand. For, as we reveal today, it contains multiple flaws, starting with Sir Michael's assertion that the troops had staged an 'ambush' with no serious intention of making arrests. He bases this on the fact that 'the terminology of "ambush" appears frequently in both RUC and MOD documents'. However, as both soldiers and police from that era tell me, there is a world of difference between military jargon and a legalistic dictionary definition. 'If this had been a proper ambush then it should be in every military textbook under the heading: "How not to stage an ambush",' says one senior veteran of covert operations in Northern Ireland. 'If this really had been an ambush, you would have had at least three machine guns covering what would be called "the killing zone". 'This operation had one machine gun and no "killing zone". If it really had been an SAS ambush, there is no way half of them would get away. They'd all be dead.' Moreover, 'ambush' was a general term for catching all forms of criminality. 'We used to go on border patrols to catch people smuggling cattle and butter,' says a former RUC officer of the period. 'We'd talk about a "butter ambush" or a "cattle ambush". It didn't mean we shot the cattle or opened fire on the butter.' What irks the veterans even more is the judge's flat insistence that the terrorists never fired a single shot at the SAS. The ruling makes much of the fact that the dead IRA men were found with both the 'Dushka' machine gun and their AKM (Kalashnikov) rifles switched to 'safe' mode. 'There is no evidence of any AKM weapon being fired in an exchange of gunfire,' the judge declares. 'I find, as a matter of fact, that no member of the Provisional IRA unit opened fire at the Clonoe chapel car park.' To which the response of many veterans is simply unprintable. First, even if all the guns really were in 'safe' mode, there is no way the soldiers could have known that was the case. Just minutes earlier they heard the whole lot blasting away, both at the local police station and again, en route to the car park, while firing a salute over the house of a dead IRA man. Second, the veterans argue that the weapons could easily have been switched to 'safe' as a matter of routine by the hordes of police, fireman, regular soldiers and other first responders crawling over the site. Sir Michael states: 'I have no doubt that this would have been recorded.' Not so, say the soldiers. In particular, one familiar with the 'Dushka' points out that it is a very complicated process to make it safe, requiring at least five separate movements which would be extremely difficult while clinging on to the back of a lorry careering round sharp corners. Of much greater concern is the miraculous wound suffered by the one SAS casualty that night. As 'Soldier H' jumped up from behind the hedge, he was shot in the face by a bullet which went in cleanly above his upper lip and out through his cheek. In his verdict, Sir Michael states: 'He was struck by a ricocheted bullet fired by one of his colleagues.' Again, SAS veterans shake their heads. 'You only need to see the photo of the wound to realise that this was not a ricochet,' says George Simm, SAS Regimental Sergeant-Major at the time. 'If it was, it must be the first case of a ricochet coming back at 180 degrees but with a nice neat hole.' A bullet rebounding off a hard object he says is usually an irregular shape, 'makes a hell of a mess' and very often does not exit at all. 'Besides, we were using armour-piercing rounds. What would they have been ricocheting from?' Then there is the unanswered question of the guns that got away in the two IRA cars which escaped. One car was abandoned a mile away next to the local Gaelic football stadium. The gang set it ablaze before fleeing. When the fire brigade arrived, they were pushed back by a mob who had suddenly appeared in order to ensure that any evidence was burned to a crisp. However, the report acknowledges two findings. First, all the car seats were folded down except the driver's, as would happen if a machine gunner was operating in the back. Second, a clip from a belt of machine gun ammunition was still in the car. Might this explain why four soldiers reported seeing distinct 'muzzle flashes' from the IRA? The verdict also makes repeated mention of IRA men being shot when they 'posed no threat to anyone'. Once again, the veterans suggest that this is pure guesswork by a judge-turned-tactical commander sitting at a desk three decades after the event. 'You shoot until you perceive there is no further threat and that is when you stop,' says Mr Simm, citing the occasion where he had his gun pointing at a gang who had just shot his commanding officer. As they raised their hands in the air, he did not open fire. 'Just remember this,' he says. 'The SAS arrested more IRA terrorists than they killed in Northern Ireland.' These are just few of the reasons why the SAS veterans feel that the Clonoe inquest is a turning point. Of much greater concern is the judge's overall verdict that the soldiers did not have 'an honest belief' that they needed to shoot. Perhaps more alarming still was his pronouncement that 'the operation was not planned and controlled in such a way as to minimise to the greatest extent possible the need for recourse to lethal force'. If that is now the official benchmark by which Britain's Special Forces are to operate, say the veterans, then we must take the judge at his word. Commanding officers must now make it very clear to new recruits that the most effective way to 'minimise' the possibility of killing our enemies 'to the greatest extent possible', is to avoid going anywhere near them in the first place. And whatever you do, please don't shoot. In short, the SAS set out that night to apprehend a gang assembling a gun. The judge disputes this and also says their lives were not at risk. So let us leave the final word to the IRA. In their official statement the following day, the East Tyrone Brigade 'acknowledged with pride' that four of their men had 'died gallantly in action' during 'an IRA operation'. For the avoidance of doubt, walk a few yards round the corner from the Clonoe chapel car park to the IRA plaque on the wall honouring the dead men. There is no mention of an ambush, of foul play or subterfuge. It states clearly: 'Killed On Active Service.'
Times
32 minutes ago
- Times
The British kids coached for Wimbledon — in 6 years' time
It's 9am on a sunny Sunday and, while most children are watching cartoons or heading to the beach, in a south London suburb a group of under-tens is doing fierce battle. 'Keep believing!' one dad shouts from a line of parents barely managing to sit still on plastic chairs, their eyes fixed on their budding tennis stars. 'Come on!' someone's mother yells. Outside, a small boy holding a large racket is being given a whispered lecture about 'staying focused'. On court, the kids are just as serious. 'Let's go!' screams a girl in plaits as she sends a winner sailing past her opponent. There's a lot of grand slam-style grunting as balls are hit with all the aggression (quite a lot, as it turns out) that pre-teens can muster. Welcome to mini Wimbledon. Well, the All England Lawn Tennis Club's 22-acre community centre in Raynes Park — a stone's throw from SW19 — which provides world-class facilities to help Britain's junior talent grow into the next Andy Murray. Actually, forget Murray. These youngsters are more interested in being the next Emma Raducanu, who won the 2021 US Open aged 18, or Jack Draper, 23, the world No 4. The latter is an ambassador for the charity Tennis First, which has put on today's tournament and offers grants to talented juniors it feels could break into the world's Top 250. Over the past two decades, it has funded more than 300 Brits — including Draper, Raducanu, Katie Boulter, Jacob Fearnley and Harriet Dart. So is it easy to spot grand slam potential? And what does it take to raise the next Jack or Emma? • Andy Murray to get a statue at Wimbledon 'You can tell at such a young age,' says Abbie Probert, 36, a former junior player and the director of Tennis First. 'Everyone can hit forehands and backhands but there's something that sets them apart, whether it's reading the game tactically or being mentally strong. 'The parents will always be competitive, because they want their child to succeed. I can understand that perception of the pushy parent; they want to encourage them and they don't always know the best way to do that. But if they want it more than the child, it's never going to work. It has to come from the kids or it's game over.' And all that enthusiasm comes with a time limit. To make the Top 250, Probert explains, you need to be on track — with a fully rounded game — by the age of ten. Yes, you read that correctly. 'The kids are like mini pros now,' she says. 'They do warm-ups and match analysis. They have an entourage: tennis coaches, strength and conditioning coaches, psychologists. They're nine and looking at what they eat and how they sleep. They're building a social media following. The tennis player is being shaped.' Looking at the procession of determined youngsters here, racket bags slung over their shoulders, striding to their next match as though it's on Centre Court, it seems hard to disagree. 'I want to play grand slams and be world No 1,' ten-year-old Joshua Lotsu says confidently. If he could win one grand slam? 'Wimbledon,' he says, looking at me as though that's the most obvious thing in the world. 'Well, someone has to,' his father, Lebene, chimes in. Joshua first picked up a racket aged four, during lockdown, when his dad started hitting a softball with him in the family sitting room in nearby Surbiton. 'Straight away he had a knack,' says Lebene, an accountant. After some parental pushing, the head coach at their local (oversubscribed) tennis club gave Joshua a trial. He aced it and got a place on its training programme, aged just five. 'That came as a shock,' Lebene admits. 'That he could have his own coach so young.' Tennis now plays a huge part in family life. Joshua is a pupil at Ewell Castle in Surrey (£5,700 a term), which has a tennis academy attached. He plays for the county and, in February, represented Great Britain during a junior Davis Cup-style event in Nottingham, where his dad wasn't allowed to watch — parents presumably being a fist-pumping distraction. He does 13 hours of tennis a week, mostly at school where 'he'll miss certain lessons, like art, but none of the essential ones', Lebene says. And he already has a team, including his club coach, school coach and a strength coach. 'He tore his calf muscle last year and was out for three months, so it's critical that he strengthens his body,' Lebene says. Or as Joshua sees it, 'I like tennis because it's fun, I get to play with my friends and it gives me energy.' Two or three weekends a month, his parents (mum Annabel works for a charity) drive him around the country to tournaments, although they flew to Scotland. For the past two summer holidays the family — including his older sister, who attends the Brit performing arts school — decamped to Barcelona's elite Emilio Sánchez Academy, where Andy Murray trained from the age of 15. 'He plays with the top kids in Britain a lot, so you're thinking, 'Who's the best player in Europe that he can hit with?' ' Lebene says. 'We don't come from a tennis background and we're learning as we go along. I didn't appreciate the amount of time, money and dedication that would be required.' Being from a 'tennis family' can certainly help. Judy Murray is a former junior player turned coach, as is Jack Draper's mother, Nicky, while his father, Roger, ran the Lawn Tennis Association (LTA) from 2006 to 2013. Not to mention that most of the top British players are from middle-class backgrounds. It might be easier to start playing tennis these days, but high-quality coaching and the ability to travel, especially overseas, don't come cheap, and can make the difference to whether your child succeeds. It takes, Probert estimates, 'pretty much another full-time income to be one of the best. It's a never-ending bill for these parents. Realistically, they're spending at least £30,000 a year.' A quick shopping list: one-to-one lessons, three or four times a week, cost between £35 and £100. Group sessions are £10-£20 a go. Physio can be £50-£100. Quality rackets are about £100 and most kids have two. You might need white kit for a tournament one week, black the next. And consider the rapidity with which adolescents grow out of trainers, with different pairs required for grass, clay and hard courts. Then there's travel, hotels, food and tournament entry fees. Little wonder the LTA has estimated it costs £250,000 to develop a player from 5 until 18. Ironically, the more you spend, the more affordable it can become, as brands begin to notice budding talent. Joshua gets rackets and kit from Wilson. Sisters Lainee, 12, and Nolwaine Ngassam, 9, are sponsored by Head. The sisters are coached in Ashtead, Surrey, by their dad, Cedric. An enthusiastic amateur, he works in finance and introduced his eldest daughter to his favourite sport aged three. 'As soon as I could walk, I wanted to follow Daddy,' Lainee says. 'Then I wanted to follow as well,' Nolwaine adds. Comparisons to the Williams sisters are perhaps inevitable. Venus first picked up a racket aged four, with Serena keen to copy her sibling. Their gruelling 6am sessions — with their coach-dad, Richard — became as legendary as their rivalry. Nolwaine is often practising by 7am. She trains five times a week for up to two hours at a time — dedication that's made her under-nine girls' champion for Surrey and ranked in the Top 2 for her age. Having been spotted by scouts, Lainee has spent the past two years on the LTA Pathway, which helps to subsidise promising players. It means that she trains six times a week, usually after finishing her homework, plus strength and conditioning sessions — a must since she's recently shot up by several inches. Before joining the pathway, Lainee took a couple of months away from tennis to think about whether she wanted to commit. 'I missed it,' she says. 'It was good to have holidays and stop for a bit, but I was happy when I started again.' 'And now she doesn't want to stop any more,' her mum, Lembe, says. Theirs is a carefully constructed family schedule, planned four months in advance, so the girls, who often want to play in tournaments at opposite ends of the country, can do as much as possible. 'It's like a miniature professional timetable, which is the right thing to do because Lainee is already 12,' Lembe says. 'If you look at British players like Hannah [Klugman, 16] and Mika [Stojsavljevic, last year's US Open junior champion at 15], how old are they? She's not too far from them.' (Klugman and Stojsavljevic have been given wild cards to play in the main draw at Wimbledon this year.) They don't have plans to train abroad, as Lembe explains. 'Tennis is still a bit elitist. You can have talent, but if you're not supported financially, it's really difficult. Having their dad as their coach helps.' Being mini pros also means having a nutrition plan. 'We don't go crazy because they're still children,' Lembe says. 'But I remember going to a county cup and this dad walked in with chocolate doughnuts. Nolwaine was asking, 'I can't eat that?' And I said, 'If you want to perform well, you can't. Sorry.' ' The sisters are, Lainee says, 'very competitive, but only when we play each other'. 'Family can be supportive but sometimes I get stressed,' Nolwaine says. 'I put pressure on myself to win when they watch me.' 'I always tell my girls, I am not raising tennis players,' Lembe says. 'If we set the goal of them becoming professional we put added pressure on them, whereas if they're enjoying it, they will progress in the right direction.' • Why pampered top ten are wrong to demand more money from grand slams Except, here's the harsh truth: you have to be prepared to lose week in, week out. Winning is rare in a sport where only one person lifts the trophy. For every player who makes it, hundreds won't. And only a handful of the elite get anywhere near grand slam prize money — £2.7 million for last year's Wimbledon singles winners. 'To make a living, you need to be in the world's Top 100,' Probert says. 'There are a lot of players in the Top 250 who are struggling. When you're younger, the financial pressure is your parents'. But when you're paying your own bills and the only way to relieve the burden is to win, that's a lot of pressure.' Tennis First has handed out grants of up to £10,000 to about 350 juniors, but just 20 have made it into the Top 250. 'It isn't a huge number,' Probert concedes. 'But British tennis is in a strong position now, with great role models. More players are coming through.' One of those is Liv Zingg from Barnes in southwest London — although she's speaking to me from Nairobi, where she's just triumphed in an International Tennis Federation tournament. The 14-year-old, who started playing with friends, aged 5, in a Notting Hill park, has recently taken a big step on the path to going pro: leaving home. She and her mother, Nicole, a former figure skater and until recently Liv's fitness coach, first moved to Mallorca, where Liv had a scholarship at the Rafa Nadal Academy. Now they're at the Francesca Schiavone training facility in northern Italy, which her family is paying for with the help of Tennis First (academies can cost £40,000-£60,000 a year). Liv's days are carefully structured. 'I do three hours of tennis and three hours of fitness. On Wednesdays, a physio comes. And we always break from 12-2pm — the Italians like their lunch.' She is 'happy', but there are sacrifices that come with not living a regular teenage life — leaving friends behind, being home schooled, only seeing her dad and sister during holidays or if she has a tournament in the UK. 'I started doing trips at 12 and I had trouble with staying away from home. I was crying. I was kind of bullied at one stage too. But I've got used to it,' she says. In September she's going to join the acclaimed National Tennis Academy in Loughborough, with a fully funded package including schooling, meals, accommodation, travel and coaching. It will mean living by herself for the first time and sharing dorms with her peers (ie the competition). 'I'll be able to go home every weekend and it's only two hours away, so I think I'll be OK,' she says. Her commitment is, at least, paying off. Liv is ranked third in Europe for her age, plays for Britain and has been invited to take part in the prestigious under-14s tournament at Wimbledon during the championships. Oh, and she signed with talent agency IMG at the age of 12; that's 6 years earlier than Jack Draper. On Instagram she's known as 'Super Liv' and has 4,000 followers. One recent post read, 'You accept it. Cry it out if you need to, then force a smile. You move on. Be relentless. Adapt and grow. Work harder. Work smarter.' Although, Liv says, 'I've never posted anything myself; that's all my mum.' Her dream? 'To become world No 1 and hold the record for winning the most grand slams. That would be cool.' 'That ambition,' Probert says, 'combined with hard work, is what it takes to become the next Jack or Emma.' Which is why I don't bat an eyelid when Nolwaine says, softly but surely, 'I'd like to win Wimbledon.' Or when her sister turns to me and smiles. 'Me too.'
Daily Mirror
2 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Brit boy, 6, 'detained on holiday island over £1.6m drug smuggling plot'
The six-year-old boy was reportedly detained along with his mum and five other British nationals at an airport in Mauritius over an alleged drug smuggling plot A six-year-old boy was among six British nationals detained abroad in a huge £1.6million drug-smuggling bust, according to reports. The group were stopped last Sunday at Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam International Airport (MRU), the main international airport in Mauritius, where customs officials allegedly discovered 161kg of cannabis hidden inside their suitcases. The total haul reportedly included 24 packages stashed in the youngster's bag, weighing 14kg. The boy's 35-year-old mum was meanwhile said to be carrying 29 packages, and her Romanian partner another 32 packages. Local officials are said to have estimated the total amount would be equivalent to £1.6million on the local drugs market. Five British women and one man, one Romanian, and a child were all reportedly detained at the scene, with the adults later appearing at a court in Mahebourg to be provisionally charged with drug offences. The adults remain in detention after police requested for them not to be given conditional release, according to Mauritian newspaper Defi Media. Authorities contacted the British High Commission regarding the child's welfare after taking in him and his mother. Reports back in the UK said the boy was flown home on Wednesday, with his dad coming to the airport to collect him. His age has been reported as either six or seven years old. The Mirror has approached the Foreign Office for comment. A spokesperson told The Sun: "We are supporting several British nationals who are detained in Mauritius and are in contact with the local authorities." Customs officers and police are said to have kept a keen eye on the group of passengers from the moment they disembarked from British Airways flight BA 2065 on Sunday, which had arrived from London Gatwick Airport. Multiple police bloodhounds had been stationed in the airport that day as part of an anti-trafficking operation. After being stopped, all of the group's checked baggage, including the child's, was examined with an X-ray scanner, allegedly revealing the presence of the drugs. Authorities in Mauritius described the use of a child for drug trafficking as "inhumane". They added that Apple AirTags were said to have been found with the parcels of drugs, suggesting an organised smuggling operation.
