Comment: Nick Kyrgios holding Australia Open to ransom

Nick Kyrgios has been accused of holding the Australian Open to ransom as fans struggle to get behind our local hopes in the grand slam.

Nick Kyrgios of Australia (L) interviews Coco Gauff of the United States ahead of the 2024 Australian Open at Melbourne Park on January 12, 2024 in Melbourne, Australia. (Photo by Graham Denholm/Getty Images)

COMMENT
Even with a tamed media persona and a busted wrist, Nick Kyrgios is still overshadowing the Australian Open with his selfish behaviour.

But this time it’s not by abusing racquets and spectators or unfairly lifting our spirits by blowing away a seed, he’s made the event dull by selfishly getting injured.

Stream Over 50 Sports Live & On-Demand with Kayo. New to Kayo? Start Your Free Trial Today >

The Happy Slam is a pretty drab place with Kyrgios sidelined, with a feeling the party can’t start until he’s lit up centre court with a torrent of tweeners and tirades.

And with all due respect to the joy one receives from a workmanlike four-set win by Grigor Dimitrov, promoters would give anything to have the Aussie on Rod Laver Arena at 7:30pm, even if just live-tweeting a clap-back at Boris Becker.

Either because he remains our number one hope or because we live in an era of commodifying outrage, the Australian Open now finds itself wholly reliant on Kyrgios going absolutely continental in prime time.

And if organisers are serious about breaking into markets beyond hardcore tennis fans, they need him on the court driving clicks and wedges and addressing chair umpires as ‘bro.’

But how have we reached a point where Kyrgios inadvertently holds the entire tournament to ransom?

Nick Kyrgios is busy working on the microphone during the Australian Open. (Photo by Graham Denholm/Getty Images)

With the gradual loss of turnstile-clickers like Rafa, Roger and Ash over recent years and box office Aussie talent thin on the ground, ratings have plummeted so low that Channel 9 is counting the billions of extra-cooked desperados they’ll need on Married At First Sight to break even on the Open’s $450m rights fee.

As this downtrend has taken hold, administrators have been slowly enslaved to the principle of ‘Trickle Down Kyrginomics’.

Put simply, this relies on Kyrgios going hogwild for as long as possible to trickle down interest through the rest of the tournament, along with haters tears.

At its most effective, a scorching Kyrgios run can mean eight Aussies qualifying for the second week is worth less than one of his zesty press conferences.

But when the former Wimbledon finalist is unavailable, it tragically leaves Aussies unprovoked, bored and debating benign topics like fluffy balls and actual tennis.

Whether you like it or not, Kyrgios is a filter-free flamboyant who emboldens Zoomers and riles up the Boomerati, and it kindles the punters way more than Djokovic sleepwalking to another title or Alex de Minaur bricklaying his way to the quarters.

Nick Kyrgios and Frances Tiafoe share a laugh before the tournament. Picture: Jason Edwards

While it would be easy to blame the sluggish interest on him being injured - and many will - the facts are his unique position as the tournament’s main drawcard says more about us than anything else.

Yes, the rumours are true that the Australian Open does feature other tennis players, some of them rather apt.

But in mass market Middle Australia, we only engage with tennis whenever it promises a trophy or a code violation.

While not discounting the purist’s appeal of Djokovic or the electricity of Carlos Alcaraz, Australian pulses have been conditioned to only raise when either:

1. Ash Barty is doing us proud, or

2. A swashbuckling Canberran is ripping forehands while barfing abuse at his support crew.

Yep, nobody else stirs the national interest like Kyrgios.

Alex de Minaur has not provided the same engagement as Kyrgios. Pic: Michael Klein

Not Daniil Medvedev complaining about our water, not Jordan Thompson pulling the “wokest” card or not even Djokovic just by being here.

Sure, organisers can naively pin their hopes on a captivating run by the gutsy De Minaur, but sadly he’s just too nice.

Like the movie Twins, where’s the entertainment value in a humble choirboy like Julius Benedict if he’s not juxtaposed against his douchey brother Vincent?

– Dane Eldridge is a warped cynic yearning for the glory days of rugby league, a time when the sponges were magic and the Mondays were mad. He’s never strapped on a boot in his life, and as such, should be taken with a grain of salt.