Darwin is a small city, and I don’t know what its Kazakh population is. The Davis Cup crowd is also small - the stands are far from full this morning - but the Kazakhstan demographic is larger than I expected. A handful of revellers at most, but they make up for it with their drums, kazoos and horn section. I dub them the Kazakh-stand. A friend tells me the group was told off by security earlier for being too noisy. “Just be cool guys, yeah?”
“Ya ya, we are coo-el.”
In the minutes before the match between their Mikhail Kukushkin and Australia’s Thanasi Kokkinakis, the Kazakh-stand battle it out with the self appointed Australian cheerleaders. The Aussies are surprisingly well armed with songs and chants beyond the lazy and ubiquitous “Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi”. The Kazakhs look concerned as the crowd is led through a rousing “We are Australian”. They’ll have to lift their game.
It’s a Friday morning and the Top End capital is headed towards a high of 30 degrees - a cool day for the locals but the sun is already starting to fry.
It’s a day of firsts. The first time Darwin has hosted a Davis Cup tie. The first time Australia and Kazakhstan have met in Davis Cup history. Will it also be the beginning of Kazakhstan reaching their first cup semi-final? Who knows - this week’s already been surprising. The cliche says no one expects the Spanish inquisition but even that was probably more predictable than a five-metre saltie named Burt picking the order of play for an international tennis match.
The teams are introduced on court and Lleyton Hewitt gets the biggest cheer. Kazakhstan win the toss and the warring cheersquads go quiet for now. Spectators settle in with their first round of beers - it’s already midday somewhere.
First points go to Kukushkin. Kokkinakis is shaky, starting with double faults. It’s 15-30, then 15-40, and Kokkinakis drops a soft return over the net, miles from his opponent waiting beyond the baseline. The momentum changes, it’s advantage Australia, and the Kazakh drum beats a march to war. Australia win the first game.
But this is not Kokkinakis’s match yet. Kukushkin is solid, and he makes the young Australian run and slide across the grass surface. He takes an early 2-1 lead with a break in the third game. The Kazakh-stand plays Pulp Fiction on a trumpet. We are 50 minutes in at midday and Kukushkin wins the first set.
An Aussie supporter in a gold singlet leans over the barrier and tells Kokkinakis to “dig deep mate”, and I wonder if the 19-year-old wants to throw something at him. A quick poll for the sporting stars out there: have you ever forgotten to dig deep, but for the friendly reminder from a fan in a rainbow wig?
The second set gets closer and Kokkinakis brings it level at three games apiece with his only break for the match - a tit-for-tat to Kukushkin’s first game break. But he’s struggling with a grass court and playing defensively and the set goes to Kazakhstan in less than 45 minutes. Coach Wally Masur will later question the wisdom in choosing grass after both Australians struggle with it.
The third set opens. An easy 40-love first game to Kukushkin who takes 12 points in a row. Twelve. Points. This is crushing, and the crowd goes for beers.
Kukushkin pumps the air in victory as he takes it to four sets to one against Kokkinakis. The ice packs come out for both players as the tropical sun roasts the court. The Kazakh-stand hosts a dance party. The Australians start singing Venga Boys across the court. As the Kazakh’s chime in with kazoos, I wonder if it can get any worse today.
Back at play. Kokkinakis shoots a glare at the kazoo. It’s 5-2.
A man sitting next to me spies the notepad and pen: “So what’s going to be your angle? Greatest comeback of all time?” he winks.
I wish mate.
But then it’s “game, Australia”. The crowd goes wild - they’ll take wins where they can get ’em at this point - and the Kazakh-stand cover of Pink Panther on a trombone is drowned out by applause.
Within minutes Kokkinakis is put out of his misery, and the two players shake hands. Kukushkin waves to the crowd. “It’s a long way from Kazakhstan but thank you for the support.”
After a short break it’s the toss for Nick Kyrgios against Aleksandr Nedovyesov. A confident kid who stands knee high to a grasshopper looks up at the Australian superstar. “Heads or tails, Kyrgios?” he asks.
This game at least starts a little better. While a glum but pragmatic Kokkinakis talks to media, Kyrgios narrowly loses the first set. Some tricky shots get the better of Nedovyesov in the second, and Australian tennis’ rising but controversial star cracks a rare smile. The Kazakh-stand sings a little louder and Kyrgios shakes his head in bemusement. But that’s the last trace of enjoyment we see from him. Frustrated, Kyrgios admonishes himself frequently, and talks back to the Aussie supporters who are even more ‘helpful’ with their advice than they were with Kokkinakis.
He hits a shot wide and smacks the barrier with his racquet.
The sun is still high and the crowd is tiring, but a sense of determined support for the Aussie sets in. Kyrgios is far from losing the match. Shouts of encouragement - many from young fans - increase, and the applause gets louder with every winning point. Kyrgios may have troubles off the court, but here today in Darwin he has nothing but support. The Kazakh-stand looks a little worried as it acknowledge a few good wins from the Aussie.
A high ball lands amid the Kazakhs but the catch is missed, prompting some good-natured jeering from their opposing cheersquad.
The crowds are boisterous, desperate even, and the umpire tells them to shut it.
Kyrgios brings the set to 5-3 and it’s looking good. But then Nedovyesov fights it back to our third tie break. He takes the lead and Kyrgios shouts: “I don’t want to be here!”
The encouragement gets louder. We want Kyrgios to win, of course. But we also want him to enjoy it, to not beat himself up over every error. There’s a sense of protectiveness - come on Nick, don’t feed the headlines.
Kyrgios will later explain he means the situation, not the competition when he says he doesn’t want to be “here”. With a looming second loss for the day he’s bringing Australia closer to crashing out of the Davis Cup.
If it’s a battle of body language, the Kazakh is clearly in front. Nedovyesov rejoices in his wins. Kyrgios admonishes the sky for his losses.
Nedovyesov takes the third.
It’s not to be for the Aussies today, and Nedovyesov takes Kazakhstan 2-0 against Australia for the quarter-final. The pair shake hands with each other, and then the umpire. Nedovyesov gestures thanks towards the Kazakh-stand. Kyrgios smashes his racquet against a courtside box.
While he clearly doesn’t have a filter, it’s apparent from the stands that the visible unhappiness from Kyrgios is because he wants to do better. Social media begins the pile on before he’s had time to even change his shirt, accusing the player of tanking, but it didn’t look like that from here.
The crowds go home, and Australia’s hopes lie with Hewitt and Groth.
