Losing the Line Umpires + Ask the Buttery

Guest Report: Dumping The Linesmen Was The Most Idiotic Move Going

By William “Bill” Coles, LTA Licensed Chair Umpire

I was lucky enough to be one of Wimbledon’s very last line umpires in 2024 — and the next year, in an astonishing act of self-harm, the line umpires were replaced by robots.

The linesmen had been looking at Wimbledon’s chalk lines for 147 years, and then, without even the slightest bit of discussion, were summarily given the boot. The reason, of course, for losing the linesmen came down to this: IBM’s Hawk-Eye Live, 3D “Ball Trajectory” Tracking and automated voice shouts; in other words, the robots are apparently just that little bit more accurate. 

Wimbledon was merely following the lead of the honchos at the US Open and the Australian Open who’d binned their line umpires in 2022 and 2021, respectively. And I know that, like VAR in football, we’re all (especially us professional tennis umpires) supposed to suck it up. We’re supposed to toe the party line that the robots are just great, and that it’s brilliant for the modern game of tennis that the balls zipping around the court at 75 and 80 miles per hour are now called so super-accurately.

Bill Coles, a one-time Sun reporter, worked as line umpire for nearly two years and wrote a novel about his experience working as one of Wimbledon’s “last line umpires.”

Well – I’m going to be put my damn head on the block and say it like it is: Losing the line umpires at Wimbledon was one of the AELTC’s biggest blunders in a very long time — possibly up there with the catastrophic decision in 2012 not to ban shrieking on court. [Editor’s Note: “Shrieking — otherwise known as Wimbledon “Grunt-gate” refers to complaints of gamesmanship around Maria Sharapova — whose grunting hit 101 to 109 decibels (a volume comparable to a chainsaw or a mid-sized jet taking off) — as well as that of former Serbian player Bojana Jovanovski. In response to escalating complaints then-WTA Chairman Stacey Allaster suggested officials use a handheld “grunt-o-meter” to measure noise levels and call a hindrance.]

Why, why, did they funk it? There’s not a single spectator who doesn’t absolutely detest it. Me? I’d say that most of the shrieking is outright gamesmanship. It was of course a similar blunder for the U.S. Open to lose their line umpires.But for Wimbledon, in particular, with over a century of tradition and history, I would say it was a spectacular own goal, and a pretty high-handed one at that. The consultation process before the line umpires were dumped was a fat nil. None of the rank and file umpires were canvassed for their opinions, and — crucially — nor were the paying public. This is the number one reason why ditching the linesmen was such a dud: the linesmen made for glorious theatre. The crowds absolutely loved them! I would hazard that well over 90 per cent of the spectators, not to mention TV viewers, just loved having line umpires.

They’re great to look at, especially the Wimbledon ones in all their £3,000 worth of Ralph Lauren finery. They add to the variety of Centre Court, which I have to say seems a bit bleak and soulless without its full complement of nine line umpires. We used to love watching them all march on, proper little soldiers all of them as they stuck rigidly line to the fourth line of grass.

And apart from idly gawping at the line umpires as they walked onto the court, we then had the pleasure of seeing them in action. The way they all moved in perfect synchronicity, standing and sitting as one, as well as their whole gamut of calls and gestures. And sometimes, deliciously, they’d have to take evasive action from a rogue serve, or might even get hit. It all added to the show! So much more variety than the robots which, in their usual robotic fashion, call the lines so perfectly.

A timid-looking linesman nonetheless assertively calls the serve on the side of Bethany Mattek-Sands “in” for the chair umpire to see.

And occasionally, of course, we’d come to that sweet moment where the player thought the “Out” ball might just have been that little bit “In”, and they raised their arm for an appeal. It all added to the drama. The image flashes up on the screen, the crowd Ooohs and Aaahs and the umpire is either vindicated or not (but whatever happens, they must always remain as imperturbable as Robocop). This appeals system works just beautifully in cricket, especially Test Cricket which is usually played over four or five days. Each captain is allowed two appeals per innings, so they’re not to be wasted. There will be a huge conflab before the Captain decides to Appeal (he makes a T shape with his arms), and this time the drama of the appeal lasts a good minute. Thrilling stuff.

But, beautifully, with the cricket appeals, sometimes it’s too tight to call. This is particularly the case with appeals for Leg Before Wicket. (If you’re not a cricket fan, it’s not worth explaining.) The point is that when the appeal is too tight to call, they stick with the umpire’s original call. Let’s give it up for the Humans!

And this, naturally, is how it should have been at Wimbledon. If it was a really tight call, less than 5mm, they should have gone with the human umpires. Also, to make it more exciting, I’d have given the players just one appeal per set, rather than three.

A group of AELTC line officials — decked out in their exclusively tailored, highly expensive Ralph Lauren custom uniform — waits to do on Centre Court at Wimbledon.

Other reasons why losing the line umpires was such a shit move? [Editor’s Note: The Wimbledon officials and the Lawn Tennis Association wishes to explain that it prohibits its officials from cursing on the job, but the Bill Coles only represents himself and his self interests — not any English tennis body — in this interview.] Let me count the ways! At Wimbledon in 2024, there were about 320 line umpires, and they were there for the fancy uniforms, and for the banter in the Buttery [the name of the Wimbledon Officials’ pantry and the Rally Report’s new section] and just for the sheer thrill of being at The Championships. This year, those 320 line umpires had been reduced to just 80 Match Assistants, there to do the most menial jobs imaginable: opening cans of balls, escorting players to the toilets and measuring the height of the net between sets.

I’ve been a match assistant a few times, and, now how to put this politely? Most of the time it is one hell of a yawn. Of course it’s great if you’re on Centre Court watching a real nail-biter, but most of the time, it’s pretty turgid stuff. Anyway, far fewer umpires are now going to Wimbledon which means there’s no fat carrot for the umpires the middle of the summer. Most of them, particularly the novices, will not be going to Wimbledon any time soon.

This has led to a winnowing amongst Britain’s journeyman umpires. I’d be surprised if the same thing wasn’t happening in America. Without Wimbledon, or the US Open, umpires are less inclined to travel to the low-tier tournaments, there to be abused by blowhards and demanded parents unhappy with the line-calls. This lack of umpires may not make much difference for the little local tournaments. But I do foresee problems for the Disabled Tennis, the Learning Disability Tennis, and the Visually Impaired Tennis. For these sort of matches, you really need chair umpires. They would not easy to run without them.

One of the more dapper AELTC line judges during 2024 — the last year they were a fixture at Wimbledon or three of the four Grand Slams.

One of the more hilarious details about the LTA “The Dumping of The Line Umpires” caper — besides that the first tennis association in the world promised its umpires it would never lose its line officials — is that it was supposed to herald a new era of equanimity amongst the players. Peace and harmony would reign. The players would absolutely know whether the damn ball was in or out, and that they would then just suck it up like a good boy should.

Not one little bit has changed. The amount of code violations remains as high as ever — though now, instead of kicking off with some errant line umpire, they’re blowing a gasket over the light, or the spectators, or even the let calls. A guess if a player is going to blow, they’re gonna blow. Whoever would have thought it?

One of the main reasons the USTA in 2020, followed by the ATP, followed by the AO, and lastly, Wimbledon (the French Open still had human line officials), brought in robots came down to, drumroll please… it was what the players wanted.

Excuse me? Could we care less what the players think? They are paid an absolute ton of money to appear at Wimbledon, or the US Open, so would it be too much of an imposition, please, pretty please, for them to just suck it up and go along with Wimbledon’s age-old traditions? One of the weirder things about the robots is that, very occasionally, they muck things up. But what then happens is that the chair umpires are not allowed to admit that the machine has blundered. They’ll bend themselves into pretzels to shore up the idea that the computer is always right.

Bill Coles, on some of his home courts near Edinburgh, Scotland, and the AI=designed cover of his new book about being an undercover journalist, rogue umpire and romantic matchmaker, Wimbledon Rogue.

Well, here’s how it looked when I was at Ilkley, Yorkshire, this year as a humble match assistant, opening cans of balls and all the rest of the hoopla. At least twice a match, midway during a point the robots would emit a rogue “Out” call – just for the hell of it. Even better, the robots would occasionally decide to fall asleep for two or even three games. The poor chair umpire would only realise that the robots was asleep when a ball was way, way out, but there’d been no corresponding “Out” call. When this happened at Wimbledon, as it occasionally did, it was always blamed on human error. Some guy forgetting to press the right button at the right time. But that’s what happens when you’ve spent millions on a brand new system: you can never admit that it’s blundered; or, horrors, that it might even have been a mistake installing the wretched stuff in the first place.

But losing the line umpires at Wimbledon and the US Open was indeed a mistake. Some fairly senior umpires I know have said as much to me in private. I wonder if Wimbledon will ever be capable of also admitting that it was one hell of a blunder. I won’t hold my breath.