But Ivanovic is not the only one. The problem, actually, it that she is only one more of the “I-Want-My-Mommy brigade.” And in this aspect, equality has been truly achieved by both Tours.

Perhaps Rafael Nadal has a cool logo of bullhorns on his shoes, but that is as close to having true ‘Matador cojones’ that Rafa will come. Do not misunderstand me; Nadal is certainly courageous on court, but the constant looking at his box (where, of all people, his UNCLE dozes through entire matches) asking for reassurance takes away from the bravado. When things get tough, Nadal engages in constant conversation with his entourage (“Is there a rule against this?” neophytes to the sport could ask) and will only challenge after getting instructions from the box, demonstrating that as far as he is concerned, tennis is an individual sport with an asterisk.

He is not alone at the top. Novak’s routine after winning a good point is: turn around, look at coach Marian Vajda (or at his girlfriend, or his whole group), pound on his chest, scream and, after approval has been granted from the box, ask for the towel and go back to business. He is not as blatant as Rafa regarding coaching instructions or his mommy’s approval (where was his ever-present family during the US Open?) but to say that he has been able to leave the maternal nest is absurd.

Andy Murray is peculiar in this aspect. Not since Connors have we seen a top player groomed by his mother, but his relationship is difficult. Murray looks at his box after messing things up, and his look is usually one as if asking, “Are you as disgusted as I am here? Are you nauseous enough already?” Amateur Freudians probably have a field day, and with his weird forehand one has to wonder whether Murray will develop tennis elbow or ‘Tennis Oedipus’ first.

Of course, not all players display this. There are some truly strong-minded individuals in the sport. Serena Williams and Roger Federer display this tenacity equally. Yes, Miss Williams will pump a fist and roar with the ferocity of a lion, but only after a majestic point (or an umpire incident at Flushing). Roger reserves his brief “C’mon” after claiming a set. And the weird thing is that Federer will then stare intensely at the floor, not at anybody in particular. It is as if, of all things that go through his mind, the key issue is to stay grounded.

Other peculiar specimens are present. Sharapova is a past winner of three slams, all of them conquered with the boorish presence of her father in her box. Mr. Sharapov was en route to join other parent coach luminaries, and perhaps that is the reason he no longer honors Maria’s fans with his presence. Still, it is curious that Sharapova’s double faulting and jitters are much more present since his departure, so one wonders if the “let me see what my box says” mentality has its pluses.

The trend, however, is not limited to current players. It would be unfair to put the entire bag of doubtfulness on the current crop. Agassi was famous for his “pounding my heart” final tirade at the end of a match (yes, Andre, we know you have a heart, as we ALL do), and nobody was more visual and visceral after key points than Lleyton Hewitt. His trademark rabid dog explosions after certain points were certainly something that called for a professional hunter with a dart gun to come and shoot him, in particular those that happened after the other player double faulted. Of course, Hewitt was never a fan favorite so he had nowhere else to turn but his box.

Some players have endearing aspects of this “family” attachment. Serbia’s Janko Tipsarevic also has some strange routines, none of which is weirder than when he plays a fantastic point and turns to his wife and stands absolutely still, trembling with emotion. I will pass on the maternal topic here and state that Janko still wants to impress his love, which is actually kind of romantic.

The point is that these attitudes are new, to a degree, in both tours. One wonders if Bjorn Borg even knew where his box was, and Chris Evert certainly would have never even blinked in that direction. Jimmy Connors would have been the main example: when he hit a great shot, he would turn to the crowd and bask in that glory, perhaps squeezing another point from the adrenaline rush.

Today, plenty of players reach the Tour with some great attachment to family and team. I guess it is the sign of the times: the umbilical cords of today’s players are made of Luxilon, too.