Back on its home turf

Longwood hosts well-traveled Cup

Davis Cup shines despite getting kidnapped and gaining weight. (BARRY CHIN/GLOBE STAFF)

Return of the native - the one with the silver anatomy.

Looking pretty and perky, especially for a 107-year-old, the Davis Cup was back in the 'hood yesterday, standing tall on the Longwood Cricket Club lawn.

"Good to be home," I could hear the old crock saying. "Doesn't happen often enough. Last time was '99, right here at Longwood, when Australia - with that divine Pat Rafter - beat the US in the quarterfinals. Kind of sad because I'm a little partial to the US, the land of my birth." Longwood president Tom Doe smiled at the Cup, saying, "We hope to bring it and another US team match to Boston."

The Cup feels like a Townie. A year older than the Red Sox, a lot older than the Bruins, Celtics, or Patriots, the sterling punch bowl went to work in 1900 at Longwood. Three Harvard kids represented the US in the inaugural scuffle for the Cup, shutting out Britain, 3-0. One of them, Dwight Davis from St. Louis, plunked down $1,000 or so at Boston jeweler Shreve, Crump & Low to pay for the trophy that would become the symbol of the world's annual team championship.

"My straight name," said the Cup, "is the International Lawn Tennis Challenge Trophy. But that's a hippopotamus mouthful. I soon became just plain Davis Cup.

"Just in from Moscow where I've hung out for a year. The Russians beat Argentina in the 2006 final, but they'll have a tougher time this year against the US in Portland, Ore. [Nov. 30, Dec. 1-2]. Never been to Oregon, even though I get around this planet. Every continent. I liked the Russians, and Boris Yeltsin, a real tennis nut, loved me. Drank vodka from me as though I were a mountain spring.

"Life is more interesting for me now. Until 1974, the US, Britain, France, and Australia were the only winners. There was one stretch - 1938 through 1959 - that Australia and the US were in every final. But tennis has broadened, and eight more countries have won since. Two years ago, tiny Croatia broke into the exclusive club, led by Ivan Ljubicic. That was exciting."

Any other personal excitement?

"Oh, yes. In 1959, I was kidnapped. That was during a tour of Peru, the home country of Alex Olmedo, a University of Southern California student who helped the US lift the Cup from the Aussies in 1958. He was eligible to play for the US because he was a resident, and Peru had no team. So he and Butch Buchholz of the US team and I made the rounds in Peru, cheered by enthusiastic crowds. But, suddenly, I was grabbed. Butch and Alex were distraught. They'd won me, then lost me, maybe for good. But I guess I was too hot to keep and the 'Cup-nappers,' if you will, left me where I'd be found.

"I'll never forget 1972 in Bucharest, Romania. I was put on display at a downtown shop, and the impoverished people lined up for blocks to take a look. They were living under the cruel Ceausescu dictatorship, and yearned for their team - Ilie Nastase and Ion Tiriac - to bring them a smattering of happiness by beating the US and winning me. It would have been nice, but Stan Smith was gigantic, and the US held on to me for a fifth straight year.

"There are times when I feel like the poster child for a tattoo parlor. Look at me up close. I'm covered with engravings - the names of the teams in the finals. I've really put on weight. And names. Originally I was a 14-pound bowl, that's all. Dwight Davis's Longwood pals called me 'Dwight's Pot,' which I didn't care for. But in the constant search for space, I've become a triple-decker beneath the cup itself, weighing 232 pounds. At birth I was 13 inches tall; now 3 feet 7 inches and growing.

"It was pleasant in the old days when the wife of Australia's top player, Norman Brookes, kept me in their living room as a flower bowl during a 1908-12 stay down under. What I hated was being cooped up in a Melbourne bank vault during World Wars I and II, virtually a prisoner of war, nine years, after the Aussies won the Cups in 1914 and 1939.

Acknowledging that the US has struggled through hard times, the Cup said, "Maybe lightning will strike twice. The last American conquest of me was over Russia. Moscow, 1995. 3-2. Pete Sampras was a one-man cyclone, with doubles breezes from Todd Martin.

Has it rained on the Cup's parade?

"Yes, often. But my minder would cover me up immediately. However, after Chuck McKinley and Dennis Ralston beat Australia in 1963 at Adelaide, US captain Bob Kelleher brought me home and I was the centerpiece of a party at his house. Champagne flowed from me like fire hydrants. Trouble was, they forgot to put me to bed. I was left out all night during a storm. Soaked. But I didn't rust. And I wasn't life-threatened like Dick Williams."

Given its Harvard background, the Cup is pleased to know James Blake may be the first former Yard-bird to play for a winner since Williams in 1926 - 14 years after his ghastly night in the North Atlantic, surviving the Titanic. No swimming necessary for Blake in Portland.

"True," said the Cup, "but Bjorn Borg did some flying after beating Czech Jan Kodes as Sweden first embraced me in 1975. His teammates pitched him high in the air many times. They call it a hissening. I was thankful that they caught him every time."

Chris Widmaier, the Cup's chaperone, indicated the interview was over. Widmaier and the Cup were off to meet Emily Rooney on her Channel 2 show, "Greater Boston."

I said they should be careful in our traffic. We wouldn't want the Cup runneth over in the Bean, would we?