US Open: Nick Kyrgios at home among the wild things

The US Open is still the most untamed of the majors. The night sessions are when it comes to life.

Nick Kyrgios should revel in the atmosphere at the US Open.

The US Open used to be played at Queens. The last edition was eventful. Saxophonists in the grandstands. Knife attacks. Court invasions. Lovemaking was witnessed in the back row before Romeo and Juliet wrapped it up just as the umpire was calling time at a change of ends.

It was John McEnroe’s first appearance at his national championship. His debut was suitably eventful. He was still an amateur, a teenager studying at Stanford, and he was coming off a semi-final ­appearance among the stiffs at Wimbledon.

McEnroe was playing South African Eddie Dibbs. The match came to an abrupt halt when a spectator was shot in the leg. Freeze, suckers. McEnroe certainly did.

New York was being terrorised in the summer of ’77 by the serial killer David Berkowitz, otherwise known as Son of Sam. A film called Black Sunday about a suicide attack at the Superbowl had just been released, so people were a little apprehensive about chaotic crowd scenes.

At the tennis, the bullet lodged in the fan’s leg. There was a bloodcurdling scream. Quiet, please. The shot had come from a nearby apartment building and for all anyone has ever known, it had McEnroe’s name on it. Or Dibbs’s. He departed with a quick, “I’m out of here.”

Decades later, the US Open is still the most untamed of the majors. The night sessions are when it comes to life. An electrifying air descends on Flushing Meadows’ Arthur Ashe Stadium when nightfall hits New York City and the giant floodlights burn like giant candles. Celebrities everywhere.

Loudmouths routinely talk long and loud during points. Tankers get howled down. Committed, gritty, brawling competitors get the sort of roar Andre Agassi once likened to the sound of a jet engine.

They loved Lleyton Hewitt here. Loved him for the dogfights he created and salivated over. Loudspeakers blare music at changes of ends. The big screen shows people singing and dancing and carrying on as if the tennis were only a small part of the evening’s entertainment.

The pedigree of the celebrities? Once, when Paul Simon’s Graceland was being played at high decibels, the bloke dancing on the big screen was … Paul Simon.

Nick Kyrgios should revel in it. The US Open is where the wild things are. As long as he doesn’t tank, they’ll stick with him until 2am if they think he’s immersed in the fight.

If he gets through the first few rounds and gets on a roll … if he gets night matches that allow him to escape the Hell’s Kitchen heat in the middle of the day … if he’s fit and firing, there’s no reason he cannot run the gauntlet into the second week.

What should happen when it comes to Kyrgios, and what does happen, are very different things. But it should be his kind of place. He’s the Mad Hatter being watched by thousands of Alices. He can ask them, “have I gone mad?” They can reply, “I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.”

Kyrgios has a great draw. He gets world No 96 Moldovan Radu Albot in the opening round. His potential third-round opponent is 20-time major champion Roger Federer, but the Swiss has looked less than convincing in the lead-up. If you have to play Federer, you’re better off doing it in the early rounds.

Federer won’t like playing ­Kyrgios on Arthur Ashe. He’ll be wary of Kyrgios riding the night like the most mercurial showmen can do. The big guns are wary of Kyrgios early in majors because the fatigue of a two-week event is yet to hit him. And the winner of Kyrgios-Federer, should it happen, is likely to face the resurgent Wimbledon champion Novak Djokovic in the quarter-finals.

Flushing Meadows is where Djokovic inflicted one of Federer’s most galling victories. The Swiss had him on the ropes in the 2011 semi-finals.

Djokovic appeared to have given up and he didn’t try to hit a serious forehand on a crucial point. He just swung at it in anger and resignation. It was all over. But the ball went in. It was a such a madcap winner that it brought Djokovic to life.

Federer was appalled by it. He hated that it came off. “That shot brings me the nicest memories,” Djokovic has said. “That one point saved me from losing the semi-­finals. It was a great shot and something I will remember forever. I anticipated it. I was two match points down. I hit the ball well.”

Told Federer thought it was a petulant stroke, Djokovic replied: “You know, luck is always welcomed and needed at that stage. But I didn’t mis-hit the ball. When your confidence is high and you’re winning tournaments, you try those shots. Under the circumstances, it was the most important shot of my life.

“I love the US Open. I love the energy here. We’re in one of the most exciting cities in the world and I feed off that. The night matches you play — packed stadium, a lot of entertainment, a lot of fun, a lot of interactions with so many people and fans — you can get into it if you have that sort of personality. They play every point with you. It’s different to any other slam.”

Kyrgios, Ash Barty or bust for Australia. Again. The train stop at Flushing Meadows takes you to the New York Mets games to the left, or the tennis to the right. Kids scratch their heads while reading the words on the statue of Rod Laver.

“Swooping like a firebird, incendiary in his shoemaking, ­Australia’s red-headed Rocket emerged from the Queensland bush to conquer the tennis world as an amateur — then as a pro. Laver’s game combined speed with powerful, precise shoemaking — his awesome left arm producing both awesome topspin and deft volleys. Laver’s two US Open championships, in 1962 and 1969, completed grand slams, making him the only player to achieve tennis’s most prestigious feat.”