Australian Open: Nick Kyrgios bows out under barrage of aces

Nick Kyrgios’s injury curse returned last night and he was bundled out of the Australian Open by Canada’s Milos Raonic.

Nick Kyrgios hits a forehand during his loss last night. Picture: AFP

Nick Kyrgios hit a ball behind his back. Hit one between his legs. Talked to random spectators. Talked to himself. His Harlem Globetrotter routine might have been compulsive viewing — even for Lleyton Hewitt, sitting up there in the stands as a commentator — but it came to nothing as Kyrgios’s injury curse returned and he was bundled out of the Australian Open by Canada’s Milos Raonic.

Kyrgios and the 16th seed were taken from the locker room to Melbourne Arena in separate golf buggies. Raonic meditated at changes of ends to calm his nerves.

Kyrgios began with authority and intent but when he tweaked his right knee in a helter-skelter first set, it was the beginning of the end. Raonic served the lights out in a 6-4 7-6 (7-2) 6-4 triumph. Early in the third set, Kyrgios was in full rambling mode. He called a linesman “a f..king idiot” and told the umpire, “I’m done.”

Bazookas at ten paces. They could have saved themselves time and effort by fast-forwarding straight to the tie-breakers. That was the impression in the opening 25 minutes. They were topping 220km/h on the speed gun.

Consistently holding to love. One-all, two-all, three-all, all the way to six-all. It seemed inevitable. But fitness has never been Kyrgios’s forte and when he required treatment at 4-5 in the first set, things went kaput. The following game was conceded in a blaze of errors and out of nowhere, he was on his way out of the tournament.

He mumbled to himself. Had the knee strapped. Let loose with the trucker’s mouth. His serve was impacted. Twenty-odd kilometres an hour were taken off his first delivery. He could barely lay a racquet on Raonic’s serve. He started gibbering to Paralympian Dylan Alcott, who was seated courtside. He talked to strangers in the crowd. Conserving energy was simple and unavoidable. All he could do was stand there and watch Raonic thump 30 aces before attempting to return the favour. Fifteen was all he could manage. “It hurts,” he said to no-one in particular when his knee was flaring during the second set. “I don’t know what to do.”

It probably wasn’t the night for trick shots, but that’s Kyrgios. He gave a full and frank effort, not just in the traditional manner. He staved off a set point in the second set. The knee was coming good. The chatter was fading. He made it to the second-set tiebreaker but conceded the first mini-break. Kyrgios threw his racquet after missing a makable passing shot, but put things back on serve as the foot-stomping capacity crowd on the so-called people’s court screamed themselves hoarse.

At a set-all, it would have been anyone’s game. Trailing by two sets, it was going to be a long night. Kyrgios tried an ill-advised serve-volley and Raonic won the second set. The joint fell quiet. All over.

Kyrgios took a lot of time off in the off-season. He wanted to freshen up. Instead, he became rusty. His body might keep breaking down because he doesn’t train enough. Or he might not train enough because his body keeps breaking down. Raonic appeared incensed by Kyrgios’s schtick, which included a violation for ball abuse after he hit one high into the stands. Raonic started directing more and more balls at Kyrgios’s body. Raonic was tense as the finish line approached but pulled away with relative ease to book a top-shelf encounter with Stan Wawrinka. It was Kyrgios’s first loss in the opening round at the Australian Open. Not once did he have a break point.

Earlier, Serena Williams, like, wipes Rod Laver Arena with the girl next door, charms everyone in a gushing on-court interview about ­babies and motherhood, talks freely about the progression from black dolls to Caucasian dolls for her daughter and then bristles at the first mention of her shameful meltdown at the US Open. Like, really bristles.

Her mentor, Patrick Mouratoglou, has admitted to being guilty of courtside coaching during her bitter loss to Naomi Osaka in New York City.

Mouratoglou has claimed that virtually every coach does it and so it may as well be legalised. It’s a decent point and worthy of discussion.

When Williams is asked if she’s spoken to Mouratoglou about the series of unfortunate events at Flushing Meadows, the mere mention of the infamous defeat makes her back stiffen. She stares daggers. Like, real daggers.

“I, like, literally have no comment,” she says.

The message is clear. New York? I, like, won’t talk.

She’s annihilated her Florida neighbour Tatjana Maria 6-0 6-2 in her first match at Melbourne Park for two years.

She’s worn a costume she’s named after herself. It’s not quite the striking ensemble that was her lavender tutu at the French Open, but it’s eye-catching nonetheless. She’s entered her press conference in a T-shirt that says “Until We All Win”.

“It’s a Serena-tard,” Williams says of her on-court clobber. “We design really far in advance at Nike. I knew that I’ve been working really, really hard in the off-season to be incredibly fit and incredibly ready. I took a year off. I’m still trying to get 12 months under my belt of playing.

“Nike always wants to make an incredibly strong, powerful statement for mums that are trying to get back and get fit. That was basically it for me.”

She says of her T-shirt: “I just think it means … until we can all win, not just have one person or one look or one style or one gender. It’s just across the board. Until we all win.”

Williams has played, like, ­authoritatively. The scoreboard has said it all. Complete mismatch.