Nick Kyrgios ... from magnificence to meltdowns

After the Madrid Masters, Nick Kyrgios said: “I guess I don’t know if I want to be remembered as a great tennis player.”

Australia’s Nick Kyrgios breaks a racquet during his loss to South Africa's Kevin Anderson at the French Open.

After the Madrid Masters, Nick Kyrgios said: “I guess I don’t know, at the end of the day, if I want to be remembered as a great tennis player. I’d like to be someone ­remembered that did something for a greater cause than being just a good tennis player.

“That’s something I have ­battled with. Last year I didn’t ­really know what I wanted out of the sport. Some days I didn’t want to play. I think I’m trying to battle with that now. I think I’m doing a good job. I think this year I’ve kind of pulled it together mentally. But I don’t know.”

He’s out of the French Open. A sobering loss to South African Kevin Anderson confirmed the emotional impact of a personal loss. He’s a sensitive soul. More sensitive than he wants you to ­believe.

He’s smitten by his girlfriend. Loves his dog. The small things. The good things. He was heartbroken by the death of his grandfather Christos in April and returned to Canberra for the ­funeral. Grief followed him back to Europe. Madrid, Rome, Lyon, Paris. He barely trained for the French Open. Motivation was lost five weeks before Anderson ­inflicted the defeat at Roland ­Garros. “Get me a beer now. Honest to God, get me one now,” Kyrgios said during his 5-7 6-4 6-1 6-2 submission on the red dirt of Paris.

Some athletes need everything in their private lives to be smooth. They cannot compete with ­muddled thoughts. Others use the elevated emotions from their ­regular lives to power their ­athletic performances.

Another sort of athlete is ­completely oblivious to off-field distractions. Shane Warne was the king of this. Kyrgios has a strong rebellious streak but there’s a fragility in him that sparks the meltdowns. He’s no tough guy. He gets hopelessly homesick. Homesick for Canberra. Homesick for his base in the Bahamas.

For the second straight major, he’s come undone against an ­inferior player. What next? He could win Wimbledon. He could disappear on the opening day. Who knows? Not him.

“After my grandpa’s passing, I just lost a lot of motivation to do anything, really,” Kyrgios said. When I was back home, it was tough. I mean, I can’t talk about it. I can’t. But I haven’t really put ­together any good training in the last couple weeks.

“Obviously, just trying to manage some niggles and, obviously, I haven’t really structured any good training in the last five weeks. I don’t think I was match-ready to play best of five sets. But he played well today. He was too good. ­Obviously, it’s disappointing just to lose but to be fair, my preparation for the claycourt season hasn’t been great. I feel like I’ve been way underdone.”

A touching Facebook post from Kyrgios in April showed a photo of his grandfather studying the strings of one of Kyrgios’s ­tennis racquets. “Always supporting, always knew the score, what was going on and even knew that Federer was the goat,” Kyrgios wrote in the caption. Fly high CK. Always watching papou.”

Kyrgios was flying in the opening set against Anderson, went a break up in the second set, lost it, found himself in a dogfight, ­discovered he was not up for it, lashed out, threw one racquet, ­obliterated another racquet during a changeover, smashing it six times next to an advertising sign next to his chair while five children watched from the front row.

He stopped caring. Coach Sebastien Grosjean looked suitably perplexed. There’s no shortcuts in this game. The majority of players thrive on an arm wrestle. There’s an almost masochistic enjoyment of the fight over five sets. Kyrgios is not yet one of those players.

“Obviously it’s frustration,” the 22-year-old said of destroying ­racquets. “It kind of feels good. But I don’t know if that’s the role model you want.”

Kyrgios departed Wimbledon last year after a “pretty pathetic” loss to Andy Murray that stemmed from a sobering level of indifference. Nearly 12 months on, the torment and turmoil is ­unchanged. The world is full of people who think sport is meaningless but it’s rare for one of those people to be one of the athletes.

Kyrgios’s first tournament after the passing of his grandfather was the Madrid Masters. He lost in straight sets to Rafael Nadal and said: “I still don’t know what I want to do. There was a point in time where if you said I could win a grand slam tomorrow, that wouldn’t excite me. I’m just — I don’t know. You know, I went from playing unbelievable tennis in Indian Wells and Miami, and then Davis Cup, then I kind of just went back home and had a rest. We saw everything that happened at home. I just haven’t been in the general gist of being a tennis player. I haven’t been training. I’ve just been doing nothing, really.”

Kyrgios will be making his fourth appearance at The All ­England Club. He has not always taken heed of Kipling’s instruction on how to handle victory and defeat. He’s made one quarter-final at Wimbledon. He’s twice reached the fourth round. Form lines are a waste of time. He can be a completely different beast from one tournament to the next. One match to the next. One set to the next.

Sportsbet yesterday had him on the fourth line of Wimbledon betting alongside Rafael Nadal. He was paying $15 for the win. Might be over the odds. Might be under. Nobody knows that, either.