Moneyball

For the handful of people in charge of saving the U.S. economy, it’s been a grueling season. The last eight months have featured endless back-and-forths, tense stalemates, and spirited confrontations. Larry Summers, the president’s chief economic adviser, has drawn blood with his lacerating quips. Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner has dropped expletives to signal his frustration. Even their aides have gotten in on the action.

And, in those rare instances when the wonks get a break, they step outside their conference rooms, loosen their ties, and do the same thing all over again. On a tennis court. For years, Summers, Geithner, and a variety of deputies have stared each other down from opposite sides of a three-foot-high net. These tennis relationships have played out on courts from Jackson Hole, Wyoming, to Davos, Switzerland, and on pretty much every flat surface in Washington, D.C. It turns out that tennis is the unofficial sport of the Obama financial team. And, if you want to understand the way its members go at it behind closed doors, it’s worth watching them go at it with tightly strung rackets.

Start with Summers, the famously blunt former president of Harvard. It’s not hard to deduce the on-court approach of a man who, as a young professor, favored such expressions as, "Here’s why what you’re thinking is wrong," and who believes the way to respond to a financial crisis is with overwhelming force. "Basically, he hits the crap out of the ball," says Jon Gruber, an MIT economics professor who began playing with Summers in the late 1980s.

A quick look at Summers suggests diving for drop shots isn’t really his game, though opponents say he’s deceptively agile. The typical Summers point will start with a cannon-like serve. If the return is weak, the bulky six-footer will cut the ball off and swing for a difficult angle. Each additional shot is more likely than the last to either be out or un-returnable--the shorter the rally the better. As a player, "Larry is very tenacious … like his personality," says Summers’s sometime coach, Nick Bollettieri. "I don’t think Larry ever smiles." (Adds Bollettieri: "I told Larry if he has enough money, I can still get him to another level.")

It may come as a surprise that the normally understated Geithner--his trademark verbal tic: "I don’t know anything about this, but …"--would play a similarly incautious game. But, decked out in tennis shorts, Geithner is wont to let it rip. "He’s a little different on the court than Tim Geithner the central banker," says one colleague. "When he isn’t playing well, it’s because he’s going for it and missing, not because he’s being too careful." Though nearing 50, Geithner is a natural athlete with a runner’s physique. He can materialize at net so quickly it feels like he served from mid-court, and the sight of his five-foot-eight-inch frame almost dares an opponent to lob him. This is generally not advisable, as Geithner has more impressive ups than you expect to find at a G-20 summit. One hallmark of a game with the Treasury secretary is an unusual number of overhead smashes. Geithner was, after all, a Summers protégé.

Since the inauguration, Geithner, Summers, and several other senior economic officials--including Deputy Treasury Secretary Neal Wolin and Assistant Secretary Alan Krueger--have played roughly half-a-dozen doubles matches. (Various members of the group rotate in or out on any given day.) The star of these outings is Gene Sperling, a top Geithner aide who, early in the administration, became known as the "undersecretary of everything" for dispatching the many thankless tasks circumstances had thrown his way. As a teenager, Sperling’s scrappy baseline play won him a tennis scholarship to the University of Minnesota, where he broke the will of more powerful opponents by chasing down every shot. So far this year, the team with Sperling on it has taken all but a single set.

This is not for any lack of effort. In February, Geithner and Sperling teamed up against Summers and Krueger for a match at Washington’s Rock Creek Park Tennis Center. Geithner and Sperling took the first set 6-3 on the strength of their aggressive net play, forcing Summers and Krueger to scramble defensively. There was talk of switching teams once the set ended, but the idea was promptly nixed. "We thought we’d come back," says Krueger. He and Summers proceeded to lose 6-3 all over again.