Don’t change, Nick Kyrgios. Tennis should.

Tennis Made
Aug 31, 2018 · 5 min read

Written by Austin Beaton — August 30, 2018

No player is bigger than the sport they play.

But, a new personality can reignite a sleepy game or tradition.

Nick Kyrgios is that personality: he’s the spoken word poetry of tennis. Loud, performative, making people pay attention to what they hadn’t.

In 2017, I was on a work trip in the Coachella Valley that coincided with the first day of Indian Wells. I paid fifteen bucks to watch players like Fernando Verdasco, Dominic Thiem, and Novak Djokovic practice feet away from me.

Nobody was electric as Kyrgios, though.

He was on an all-Aussie court with Lleyton Hewitt and others. Kyrgios punched a serve that ricocheted off Hewitt’s frame, flying high and far behind the fence. Nick laughed, called him a “fuckah” (who hasn’t fallen under the trance of Australian English?) and walked to the bench. He sat and texted, chirping at the two old guy legends.

It reminded me of the summer I was 15: I played enough hours a day to see the white dried sweat on my face, laughing at the older guys’ jokes and betting sets on a burger at Wendy’s.

Kyrgios can act like an unhinged junior at a USTA tournament — part of his antics are why people cover him. He’s been featured on multiple lists outside tennis, including most interesting athlete by Golf Digest (if even golf is buying in, tennis has to, right?).

But more importantly, and better for the game, he’s honest when the cameras are on. And the list of truthful moments is as long as his serve during a meltdown: he likes Pokémon Go more than tennis, he’s not thinking about his next opponent but what he’s having for dinner, he’s tweeting that weed is acceptable for players on tour, telling a line judge their fucking bullshit.

Isn’t he giving us part of what we’re after when we watch sports, and the opposite of the banal, unwatchable tradition of press conferences and Tennis Channel infomercials — real emotion, rawness, a look at the inner life of a freakazoid professional athlete?

And, of course, one of the most talented.

Kyrgios’ legacy among retired professionals is already on its way to being wasted potential. Before the US Open, Chris Evert in a conversation with Brad Gilbert said, “to be the best to win Grand Slams, you have to make mental and emotional sacrifices, as well as physical. I think he doesn’t train like the top men do.”

That certainly might be the case. Yet, he’s a top 30 player in the world and beat Rafa, Djokovic, and Federer the first time he played each of them.

Any one who’s at least a 4.0 could tell you that athleticism alone won’t get you to that stage. Just because he doesn’t fulfill the expectations of Evert and other pundits, doesn’t mean he doesn’t work hard.

Evert also questioned Nick, intrinsically: “you can’t change DNA. You can’t change the wiring of somebody. This change has got to come within himself.”

I don’t want him to change. I want tennis to.

Kyrgios serving to Llewton Hewitt during a practice session at the Indian Wells Masters tournament in 2017.

Tennis today is a giant contradiction: though it’s a leader in sports as a platform for women, it also policies their bodies (see: Alice Cornet receiving a court violation for changing her shirt, which men do all the time). Tennis is also one of the best at showcasing and celebrating its individuals, but only if they behave in the way that’s prescribed.

In 2016, after Kyrgios tanked a match in Shanghai, the umpire said: “you can’t play like that, OK? That’s not professional … this is a professional tournament, we have to act professional and play with your best effort the whole time.”

Certainly, there’s a decorum that comes with an association. But, Is it necessary to always play your best? Is that requisite to be professional?

Are there not thousands and thousands of tennis players who’ve lost their cool before?

Maybe what bugs traditionalists about Kyrgios is exactly what excites others: he doesn’t follow the expected narrative of tennis.

White, obedient, grateful, apologetic, excited for their next match, fluent in British-English.

Is it all about his work ethic and antics? Would Kyrgios be accepted if he still acted this way, but was the world #1?

Despite being a sport that features stars of many races and nationalities, racism is ever-present on tour.

Even as undeniably one of the greatest, Serena Williams still faces constant criticism. Her outfit designed for circulation (called a disrespect to the game), how she dances to celebrate winning a grand slam, the emotion she exhibits after an important point.

Kyrgios has also faced public racism — like in 2015 when former swimmer Dawn Fraser piped off on Nick’s behavior, post-Wimbledon:

“[he] should be setting a better example for the younger generation of this country, a great country of ours. If they don’t like it, go back to where their fathers or their parents came from. We don’t need them here in this country if they act like that.”

Though Nick was born and has lived in Australia his whole life, he doesn’t look the part to Fraser, which many (including Kyrgios) attribute to his being half-Greek, half-Malaysian.

Shouldn’t there be more than one way to set an example? To be a good citizen? To be an ambassador of tennis?

Shouldn’t it matter that lots of players on tour like him? Including Fed, himself:

“I’m a fan, really,” [Federer] said of Kyrgios. “He plays very relaxedly, just like me when I was young.”

The culture and tradition of tennis shouldn’t be compromised for a single player. But, in a sport full of teenage professionals, aren’t these expectations unrealistic?

Tennis should be able to embrace someone as they grow. Someone who does it on their terms, someone who doesn’t look the part.

I’m not sure Kyrgios needs to grow up more than anyone else who’s a young twenty-something. His perspective is usually polarizing, sure, but it is logical — like after being told by that umpire in Shanghai:

“I don’t owe them anything. It’s my choice. If you don’t like it, I didn’t ask you to come watch. Just leave.”

I’m not going anywhere, Nick.

And without him, tennis might not be, either.

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade