Bernie Tomic is to play his 33rd tournament of the year. You have to admire his fight
Bernard Tomic is undertaking a punishing schedule to resurrect his career but a match in 2011 was a pointer to how different things could have been.
Bernie Tomic’s serves were so smooth they rolled from his tongue. Volleys were crisp enough to giggle and shout yippee. He had Wimbledon’s yellow balls and Novak Djokovic on a string. Up in the Royal Box, Prince William might have wagered Stefan Edberg a penny for a pound that the freewheeling Australian teenager would win more majors than the metronomic Serbian twenty-something he was toying with.
This was 2011. The flag-waving, Pimms-sipping, strawberries-munching, suit-wearing, oompa-oompa marching band occasion of the gentlemen’s singles quarter-finals at a snappy little joint called The All England Club.
There was barely a struck match between the 18-year-old Tomic and 24-year-old Djokovic. Tomic whipped through the second set and looked the more dangerous player before his mind wandered and Djokovic won 6-2, 3-6, 6-3, 7-5.
When the young gentleman Djokovic beat Jo-Wilfried Tsonga in the semi-finals, he became world No.1 for the first time. Stayed there a while. He beat Spanish ball machine Rafael Nadal in the final. This was Djokovic’s famously breakout year. He went 6-0 against Nadal, and 4-1 against Roger Federer, and won five Masters titles, and three majors, with a 70-6 win/loss record, including a 41-match unbeaten streak in one of tennis’ greatest seasons. The bloke who caused him as much trouble as anyone was young Bernie at Wimbledon.
He was the hottest talent in the sport. Such a natural it was nearly comical. His hands were soft enough for a piano concerto, his serve snuck up on you. He could roll over a luxurious two-handed backhand then hit a skimming one-handed slice. His court craft was tops. He wasn’t the quickest player on tour at 196cm but he didn’t need to be. Instincts made up for it. You could have sworn his career was bombproof. There was a major in him.
Fast-forward 15 years and Djokovic has won 24 slams to lay debatable claim to being the greatest of all. Tomic is yet to get off the mark. Where has he been this year? More to the point, where hasn’t he? The 33-year-old may have fallen off a cliff in top-tier tennis but his attempt to claw his way back is fascinating – and continues next week at the NSW Open in Sydney.
For a tennis lover, the 138-year-old Open, born in the same year as the Richmond Football Club, 1885, is a doozy. It’s historical enough to be played in black and white. The trophy has been held in the fingertips of Rod Laver, Rog Federer, Ken Rosewall, Tony Roche, Lleyton Hewitt, Margaret Court, Evonne Goolagong Cawley, Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova, and even though it’s second-tier these days, part of the Challenger Tour carrying $250,000 in prizemoney, you get to sit intimately close to a stack of very decent players. Next week’s field at Olympic Park will include Rinky Hijikata, Jason Kubler, Kim Birrell, Emerson Jones, Destanee Aiava – and good old Bernie Tomic.
You can sit right beside most courts and immerse yourself in quality to-and-fro. Like a day at the Sheffield Shield when international cricketers are unusually accessible. You hear the ball off the strings, the yelps of delight, the groans of defeat and every breathless pant of effort. Tomic’s state of play and mind is intriguing, and then some. Why is he still going? What is he hoping to achieve? Ranked No.17 in 2016, he bottomed out at No.825 in 2022. He’s scratched, crawled, sliced and diced to his current position of No.186. Which gets good old Bernie into the good old NSW Open.
He’s as mercurial as an erratic musician, something of a tortured poet. He’d be top 10 if tennis was scored on technical proficiency, artistic expression, innovation and stage presence. He’s played a whopping 32 tournaments this year at off-Broadway locations in Kazakhstan, Rwanda, China, India, Britain, the US, New Caledonia, Colombia and Mexico. He’s won $225,000 but paid half the amount on flights and hotels. When he was inside the world’s top 20, he could be a bit half-arsed. Now he’s an ironman? Find me a pew in Sydney.
Tomic’s most recent hit was in an ATP 250 event at Almaty, Kazakhstan. I’ve never witnessed qualifying at Almaty, Kazakhstan, but I’m guessing qualifying at Almaty, Kazakhstan, isn’t the most glamorous occasion. Comparing unfavourably to, say, gentlemen’s quarter-finals day at The All England Club when you have the world at your feet.
Tomic won two marathon three-setters to get into the main draw at Almaty, Kazakhstan, where he faced world No.35 Corentin Moutet, the will-o-the-wisp Frenchman who eliminated Alexei Popyrin at this year’s Australian Open.
Tomic versus Moutet deserved Yakety Sax over the loudspeakers. The theme music to the Benny Hill Show was written by Boots Randolph and James Q. Spider Rich, and when Tomic and Moutet engaged in quixotic rallies that were partly tennis, and partly ping pong, and partly badminton, you thought perhaps Boots Randolph and James Q. Spider Rich held the racquets. Tomic was a bit knackered from qualifying but fought to 6-6 in a second set tie-breaker. Which was one of the points of the year.
How did Yakety Sax go? Buppa-ba-ba-buppa?
A serve down the T from Tomic. His tongue was hanging out. Then a forceful off-forehand that kissed the sideline and baseline. An acutely angled, inside-out forehand fit for table tennis. Buppa-ba-ba-buppa. A sliced backhand floating deliciously and butterfly-like down the line. And again, like an encore. A topspin forehand up the guts. One more up the high diddle-diddle. Buppa-ba-ba-buppa. Back to square one, the off-forehand, worth another go. A sliced crosscourt backhand. An overspun one-handed backhand half volley. He chased down a drop shot. Scampered back to retrieve a lob. Moutet charged the net just to get things over with.
Tomic caressed a crosscourt backhand so gently he must’ve been in love with it. He bolted after Moutet’s drop volley and tapped it down the line for a winner. The good folks of Almaty, Kazakhstan, rose to their feet. Tomic collapsed in exhaustion as Moutet cracked up and leant over the net for a high five. He went to Tomic’s side of the court and helped the big lug to his feet. It was vintage tennis from Tomic, the teenager who once toyed with Djokovic on Wimbledon’s Centre Court. He lost the next three points and the match to Moutet. Buppa-ba-ba-buppa. I admire his ongoing fight. Win, lose or draw in Sydney, a penny for a pound it’s entertaining.
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