Lion-hearted Kyrgios has the ticker, but not the legs

Nick Kyrgios has played the lights out — but succumbed to Daniil Medvedev in an electrifying match at the Australian Open

Nick Kyrgios plays a tweener in his electrifying clash with Daniil Medvedev

Nick Kyrgios is kidding himself. Never in a million years is he going to beat Daniil Medvedev. And yet he’s just won an electrifying third set in a blaze of ostentatious shotmaking and supreme showmanship that makes the walls shake inside Rod Laver Arena.

He’s fighting a hell of a good fight. Playing out of his skin. Trying everything he can. He calls Medvedev “lucky” at a change of ends. Pinches a towel from his bench when he thinks the Russian isn’t looking. Medvedev sees him do it. Just sneers and carries on.

Kyrgios calls the crowd “brain dead.” He blames spectators when he’s warned for an audible obscenity. Then he wins a scintillating point and runs half a lap of the court. He shouts, “I’m in his f…ing head, baby!” For a short while, perhaps he is.

Nick Kyrgios in action last night.

Daniil Medvedev of Russia serves.

But fitness will do him in. Kyrgios has the ticker, but not the legs. The rollercoaster ends with a 7-6 (7-1), 6-4, 4-6, 6-2 triumph to the Australian Open favourite.

“I came to win this match and I’m happy that I managed to do it,” Medvedev says. “The only choice when you get booed between first and second serves is to stay calm and win the match.”

Razzed again by the crowd, Medvedev tells the crowd to pipe down and suggests they “show respect.” He adds: “It was tough to play. It was a funny match in a way. You always have tough opponents like Nick Kyrgios and that’s why we love tennis.”

It’s been extraordinary from Kyrgios. Breathtaking. He’s basically a part-timer threatening to take down the US Open champion.

He’s been the better player in certain respects. His good stuff has been truly great stuff. Medvedev gives a polite wave and thumbs-up to a crowd that has been in his ear. Kyrgios repeatedly looks knackered only to find a second, third or fourth wind. “I’m throwing the kitchen sink,” he says at one stage. “I physically can’t do any more.”

The much-hyped match begins crazily and stays there. Kyrgios has two break points at 1-0 and Medvedev looks weirdly jittery. Kyrgios summons and receives support from the Rod Laver Arena crowd like he’s orchestrating a slightly intoxicated crowd.

The Russian’s relief is palpable when it’s over. He exhales like he’s knocked off an especially pleasing yet challenging shot of vodka.

Medvedev isn’t being thrown to the lions. In tennis terms, he is the lion. He sneers like Boris The Blade, the ex-KGB agent from Snatch. When Kyrgios holds serve with an underarm delivery, he gives Medvedev a wink and a smile. Receives nothing in return.

Medvedev is going to be too good for Kyrgios over five sets. Guaranteed. Well, almost. It’s to Kyrgios’s credit that he extends it to four.

Peak Kyrgios can beat anyone, including this bloke. But he’s underdone against a match-hardened and resilient opponent who’s allowed himself only a 12-day off-season. When Kyrgios goes berserk in the third set, truly berserk, the roar can be heard in Richmond. It’s taken a huge effort to get back on level terms. Problem being, he needs to stay there for another two hours. No way that will happen. An intoxicating match has an inevitable end but again, bravo for the rousing effort.

Kyrgios complains about the shot clock being started too quickly. He tells the masses to stop making a noise when he’s throwing the ball to “f…ing serve”. He receives a warning and passes the buck to his audience: “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it, yeah?”

Kyrgios’s blow-ups are normally an indication of fatigue doing him in. He’s mentally up for it, but not physically. That’s what frustrates him the most. He knows his tennis is good enough – and that his body is not.

Kyrgios is emotional and completely invested. Talkative, demonstrative, nuts. Medvedev gives little more than understated fist pumps. Kyrgios’s highs are sky-high but the fatigue guarantees too many lows at inopportune moments.

He tries his heart out, which is all anyone can expect of him. More than anything, his wholehearted display and periods of sheer blinding excellence are proof of how great Kyrgios can be … if he ever really wants to be.

Winning one set takes a monumental effort. How on earth is he going to win three? Short answer, he cannot.

Cautioned for slow play, he sprints to his towel and back. Very funny. He hits a powerhouse forehand deep in the third set and celebrates like a madman – tongue out, eyes bulging, howling to the moon.

There’s a sliver of hope in the fourth set. Break point. A short forehand at his mercy. Heavy legs cause a shank. His Open is over. He smashes a racquet. He’s cooked and let’s be honest. Medvedev has bigger fish to fry.