Bill Simons
Nick Kyrgios is tennis’ rebel in residence. Like Jimmy Connors, Nick has a me-against-the-world mindset. He bristles – I’m from the other side of the tracks. Don’t tread on me. Like Jimbo’s, Nick’s blunt verbal blasts can sting. On court he taunted Stan Wawrinka, saying the Swiss’ girlfriend had cheated on him. Like McEnroe, his temper flashes hot and he’s a loner who loves “being with the boys” on a team. (He led Australia to the 2017 Davis Cup semis and loves playing the Laver Cup). Like Andre Agassi, his internal “What’s it all about, Alfie?” feuds with tennis simmer. “I don’t love the sport,” he confides. “But I don’t really know what else to do.”
More than any other, he brings to mind a crusty outsider, an American legend with a massive serve, subtle hands and a considerable chip on his shoulder. Pancho Gonzales‘ parents were Mexican. Nick is the son of a Malaysian princess and a Greek house painter. Aussie Olympic hero Dawn Fraser cruelly commented that Nick and Bernie Tomic should “go back to where their…parents come from…We don’t need them here.”
Comparisons to others are intriguing. But one of Nick’s great gifts is to be completely true to himself. Writer Linda Pearce noted, “For better or (often) worse, he is unfailingly honest and authentic; one of the most admirable Kyrgios traits is that he is who and what he is and has never tried or pretended to be anything else.”
He blasts, he flicks, he broods. He’s Nick – artist, free spirit and tennis’ compelling rebel du jour. In an increasingly corporate, just-win-baby sport, he fights the good fight against what can be a soul-deadening endeavor. He combines power with a jazzy spontaneity like few others not named Monfils. He slaps forehands and bashes second serves that flash lightning and plays his best against the greats. Last year, he scored four wins over top 10 players. “His physical skills can match…anyone in the sport,” said Justin Gimmelstob. “We’ve seen him take the racket out of Federer’s hand, Djokovic’s hand, Nadal’s hand…This is a guy who can do everything – the way he moves, his ball striking, his offense, his defense, his touch – it’s remarkable.”
All the while, Kyrgios sneers at tradition. Protocol need not call. Before big matches he’ll play some hoops, visit a sickly child or play doubles so his pal can get some easy money. Some pros are gluten-free – Nick likes his milkshakes. He’s tanked matches from Wimbledon to Singapore or hit pitty-pat serves that stun. During the height of the NFL kneeling controversy, he took a knee at the Laver Cup in Prague. He wore a baseball cap with a blunt, X-rated opinion of America’s president.
Jon Wertheim contended, “There’s this endearing populism to the guy. He’s more comfortable hanging out with kids and mingling with fans and playing on back courts than he is dealing with the establishment…Kyrgios clearly rejects the social conventions of tennis. But [unlike McEnroe] he does so by gravitating to the people, not away from them.”
No wonder the guy packs stadiums. Whether he blasts balls out of them or around the net post for dazzling winners, he doesn’t do dull. His brilliance often astounds.
Rod Laver expressed a common opinion: “Kyrgios could be the best player in the world. He has the markings of all of it…What’s he done? He’s beaten Nadal, he’s beaten Federer, darn near all of them, at their best…His mental approach has changed… Nick is ready to get involved…he’s ready to do something.”
Wow – we’d love that. But the No. 36 player viewed last season as “diabolical.” He was booed off the court at the Australian Open. He gets into it with fans, umps, the media and even his support team. Often he’s simply a grump. Last year he was suspended for lack of effort and McEnroe, no less, asked, “Is there a greater sin in sports than not to use your sublime talent?…When Nick goes through those periods when he’s not competing, it’s a black eye for the sport and for him.”
Nick himself openly speaks of having gone through a dark period last year, of disappointing many (including Sebastien Grosjean, who briefly coached him) and having “a constant tug-of-war between the competitor within me wanting to win, win, win and the human in me wanting to have a normal life…away from the public glare…I’m not dedicated to the game at all…There are players out there…that strive to get better every day – the one-percenters. I’m not that guy.”
Naturally, a chorus of critics shouts, “Get a coach, Nick! You’re said to be the best talent into the game since Federer, but you only won two Grand Slam matches last year.”
Others tell Nick to train harder. Injuries forced him off the circuit for months last summer. His backers want to see him improve his volleys. Todd Woodbridge noted that Nick has to learn that “You have to use your legs, your whole body, and get down low to volley well.” And, Nick, how about learning to craft points with more precision?
Mary Carillo told IT, “It will be less and less easy for Nick to continue this way. Until he gets to that place himself, this guy wants to be the outlier, the rogue…Jon Wertheim calls him a guilty pleasure. But, you know, at some point we might lose him. These days in the player’s box you see a coaching team and physio. With Nick you look up there and it’s not a team, its more like a prayer circle.”
It’s no wonder that Kyrgios headlines range wildly from “Master of Disaster” to “Is Nick a Role Model – You’d Better Believe It.” All the while, Nick prefers to block out the noise. Sometimes he seems to echo that old Dylan complaint: “There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief.” “When I lose matches it doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t sting. When I win matches, I don’t get high…I don’t really know what’s missing. I’m not happy with myself even if I’m winning.”
Alyson Rudd noted that at Wimbledon, when Nick faced the media, “He was all moody and misunderstood… his eyes glinting in distaste that his behavior was being analyzed…[After all, he] was able to turn the removal of a pair of socks into an angst-ridden one-man show worthy of a fringe theatre specializing in Bertolt Brecht. His behavior screamed, ‘I’m bored.’”
Kyrgios relishes being his own man. So we asked, “Nick, do you like having a feeling of freedom within the game?” He replied, “Yeah, definitely, that’s one side I love…doing things on my own terms. I like the freedom – yeah.”
So we followed up: “Where does that come from?” He answered, “I had a couple of experiences in my young career with a couple of people that…I have just gone from one extreme to the other. I was in a very structured environment when I was young and I didn’t like it. I guess I have just now gone to the other extreme.”
It would be a minor crime if Kyrgios surrendered his zest, his unique spontaneity and love of freedom to the grinding gears of convention. Still, some mid-course corrections could bring him happiness.
Grigor Dimitrov, who beat Nick at the Aussie Open, said, “I don’t know how he feels deep inside. We all have to fight our demons – we all have some. It’s a matter of how to harness them and let out those good spirits.”
I asked writer Christopher Clarey, “In five years, which of the new young guns are we going to be talking about?” He replied, “Do you mean who’s going to be the best, or who are we going to be talking about? Because we know who we’ll be talking about – it’ll be Nick.”
Makes sense. After all, tennis’ good and growing rebel in residence is the most intriguing young man in tennis.
