Hit, giggle, joke, niggle – ‘villains’ Nick Kyrgios and Novak Djokovic ace showdown

Nick Kyrgios and Novak Djokovic – how did they play their exhibition match? They played it just right in a prefect little teaser for the Australian Open.

Aussie entertainment machine Nick Kyrgios points the finger at Novak Djokovic in their Rod Laver Arena showdown on Friday night. Picture: Mark Stewart

Jokes. Banter. Sledging. Ribbing. Fibbing. How did Nick Kyrgios and Novak Djokovic play their Arena Showdown on Friday night? They played it just right.

They sort of played seriously but not really, using trick shots, laughing, talking before points, contesting abbreviated sets, trying to entertain as much as compete. A degree of niggle develops in exhibitions when two proud athletes and pantomime villains are wheeled out and Djokovic would normally be loath to lose to the showboating, big-talking Kyrgios under any circumstances – especially as they’re drawn to meet in the Open quarter-finals – but this was pretty much hit-and-giggle. The pre-planned deciding tie-breaker was doubles, featuring wheelchair players and juniors.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m nervous standing back out here,” Kyrgios said after the polarising Australian and Djokovic received a rapturous ovation from the 15,000 capacity crowd. “Let’s have fun tonight and hopefully we pull up all right. I need payback from Wimbledon. I’m not going to lie, I haven’t slept since.”

Novak Djokovic ponders throwing in the towel. Picture: AFP

When the 21-time major champion failed to mention Kyrgios as a title threat in the build-up to the first slam of the year, that was a clear case of mind games, set and match. In his first appearance on RLA since his deportation saga, Djokovic tapped his heart and kissed the court before Kyrgios prevailed 4-3 (5-3), 2-4, 10-9 with a little help from the wheelies and beaming kids.

All jokes, banter, sledging, ribbing and fibbing aside, and the fact Kyrgios threw the second set so the match could go the distance, the Arena Showdown was a great little teaser for the Open. How did they play it? They played it just right, appearing in decent physical condition despite Djokovic’s hamstring troubles and Kyrgios’s ankle complaints. Rallies were extended on purpose to give everyone a chuckle. Djokovic tried a between-the-legs shot and an underarm serve he’d never do in a serious match. They talked to each other between points, cracked gags; Djokovic wiggled his bum before returning serves, shouted during one baseline exchange, “Oh my gosh!”. On his own fondness for underarm serves, Kyrgios said: “All those young kids out there, don’t do it. I’m not the best role model at times.”

The unashamed hit-and-giggle preceded the real riddle facing Kyrgios at the Australian Open. Can he handle the potentially debilitating, infuriating, tantrum-inducing pressure of expectation that will shadow him at Melbourne Park?

A whole new ball game starts for the wild thing next week. An unsettling, psychologically challenging game of trying to handle a high tide of hype after previously relishing his role of unpredictable, freewheeling, devil-may-care underdog. Kyrgios was previously shielded from the burden of favouritism by Ash Barty … but now it’s all on him. “A bit different this time around,” he concedes.

An Australian male hasn’t won the Open since Mark Edmondson and his handlebar moustache in 1976. Kyrgios is talking himself up, he’s coming off a Wimbledon final, he’s starring in the sport’s new Netflix documentary and is generally casting himself as the main man. Can he hack everything that goes with it? Barty won last year with a smile and a flurry of butterfly backhands but she was a mild thing compared to this walking, talking, tweeting, bleating, athletically brilliant entertainment machine who could light up Melbourne Park … or burn the joint to the ground if things don’t go to plan.