Ever seen the Australian Open? Why Demon’s criticism of the French Open crowd is a bit rich

Alex de Minaur had Hugo Gaston on French toast but then let the crowd get the better of him.

Alex de Minaur shows his anguish during his five-set defeat in the opening round of the French Open Picture: Getty Images

Alex de Minaur had Hugo Gaston on French toast. Let him off the hook by blowing a matchwinning lead before complaining about the behaviour of the partisan Parisian crowd. Pot, kettle, black – de Minaur was merely a victim of the sort of raucous and rabid support benefiting Australian players every summer.

“Drop a bomb on him!” was one especially memorable and regrettable comment from an Australian supporter when John Millman faced a Japanese opponent on Court 2 at an Australian Open. “This is my f … ing court!” de Minaur hollered when he beat Matteo Berretini on Ken Rosewall Arena at this year’s ATP Cup on the back of patrons roaring their approval for the Italian’s double faults and unforced errors. That was the height of rudeness by the patrons but it was dismissed as acceptable from a home crowd. On Wednesday, de Minaur was facing Gaston on his f … ing court and he had to cop it sweet.

His brutal 4-6, 6-2, 6-3, 0-6, 7-6 (10-4) defeat came because he blew a 3-0 lead in the final set, not because he was unfairly razzed from the rafters. You play a French player at the French Open and you know you’ll either get an earbashing or be ignored like you’ve ordered a cup of tea from the snootiest waiter in Paris. The match was on de Minaur’s racquet before he let the racket get the better of him. He had no-one to blame but himself. The atmosphere wasn’t feral. It was fantastic. The downside for the visitor was that it wasn’t for him.

The mob on Court Suzanne Lenglen weren’t saying boo when de Minaur peeled off nine straight games to rip through the fourth set and go a break to the good in the fifth. They only really got in his ear when he showed signs of wobbling at the finishing line. “There’s a difference between a great atmosphere and supporting your fellow countryman, which is completely fine and it’s great,” de Minaur said. “I’m sure for him it was an amazing atmosphere. He enjoyed every second of it, but there’s a line. When I’m getting told things by people in the crowd, making eye contact with me after I hit a double fault, I think there’s a certain line that needs to be looked at.”

Hugo Gaston celebrates his win over Alex de Minaur Picture: Getty Images

That was a flimsy response from de Minaur. Getting told things? Like what? Spectators making eye contact with him? What did he expect? They were there to watch him. “I’d rather not get into what was being said,” he said. “Ideally, I will sleep tonight and forget all about it, but I have a feeling that won’t be the case. What I have got to do now is put this behind me. Easier said than done but I will do my best.”

De Minaur received a fair suck of the sav in the four-hour battle. Amid the sort of atmosphere Lleyton Hewitt used to revel in during Davis Cup ties in Spain, he served poorly, played tentatively and tensed up when it mattered, losing the last five points on the trot. An inspired Gaston revved up the audience masterfully yet respectfully, just as de Minaur would have done in Australia. Nothing from the bleachers came remotely close to the disrespect shown to the foreign doubles opponents of Nick Kyrgios and Thanasi Kokkinakis in January. The best way for de Minaur to shut them up would have been to win when he had the chance. Normally extroverted in matches, he turned introverted, seemingly intimidated by the throng in a contest he should never have lost.

“I think I just thrive being here at home,” de Minaur said at the Australian Open in January. “I always play well in front of my home fans. I get fired up. The more people that I get watching my matches, the more excited I get.”

A spectator shows his support for Hugo Gaston Picture: AFP

Gaston played well in front of his home fans. He got fired up. The more people who crammed into Court Suzanne-Lenglen, the more excited he got. Full credit to the victor. At 0-3 in the deciding set, he stomped on his racquet, snapping it, throwing the pieces away like a couple of broken sticks. Then he held his nerve better than de Minaur did. That’s why he won, not because the crowd was singing and chanting like Zinedine Zidane was scoring goals again for Les Bleus. I’ve been to Roland-Garros. I’ve felt the wild emotion in the stands for local players, especially underdogs like world No.74 Gaston, and it’s brilliant. Nothing to bemoan. And not half as bad as the wild old days of the US Open. When a New York spectator in 1977 was shot in the leg during a match between John McEnroe and Eddie Dibbs, McEnroe grabbed his racquets and told the umpire, “I’m outta here.”

De Minaur’s reaction brought to mind this year’s Indian Wells Masters, when ex-world No.1 Naomi Osaka was brought undone when some buffoon shouted, “Naomi, you suck!” Osaka cried before losing to Veronika Kudermetova. Rafael Nadal and Andy Murray sympathised and yet reminded Osaka that crowd negativity was part of professional sport. “Sometimes things are said and it’s not comfortable,” Murray said. “It’s something that’s always just kind of been part of sport. Athletes have to kind of be used to that or be able to deal with that, even though it’s not pleasant. It does happen regularly across all sports.”

De Minaur knew the height of heckling was coming his way. Not once did his opponent get in his face. Gaston orchestrated the crowd in a very decent and sporting manner. It was de Minaur’s match to win or lose, and he lost it of his own accord. As Nadal said of unfavourable audiences after the Osaka incident at Indian Wells: “Even if is terrible to hear, we need to be prepared for that, no?”