Whatever else happens to the extraordinary career and interesting life of Dan Evans, it has already been a ride of which Evel Knievel would be envious. He is the daredevil of his calling, a calculated risk-taker who has flirted with disaster on occasion, but has matured just in time to survive and to make the most of his considerable gifts with a racket.
In what was probably the most entertaining press conference any seasoned hack present had witnessed, the 26-year-old Birmingham maverick the other night revealed facets of his character and personality rarely seen on court, but which occasionally surface away from the workplace, usually when the trains and buses have stopped running but the beer hasn’t, and his mates have gathered around to talk about Aston Villa or cricket or boxing or ... well, it helps to have an imagination in such circumstances.
We had a similar night away from notepads and microphones in New York last year, after he had come within one smash of beating the US Open eventual champion, Stan Wawrinka. It was in a bar called Snafu off Lexington Avenue, an uptown watering hole for Wawrinka, among others, where players go to relax away from the intensity of their calling.
Those exchanges will remain private. What Evans said after beating Bernard Tomic was very much for public consumption and ranged across a whole mess of issues: the bad behaviour of the Australian fans, how his simmering feud with his opponent had long ago died out and how Tomic’s volatile father and coach, John, had come into the locker room to congratulate him, as well as his lack of shirt sponsorship, and why a mere tennis match paled in significance alongside the tragic events that had unfolded in the centre of Melbourne that afternoon, resulting in the death of four people, including a small child, when a man drove through a shopping precinct.
Nobody else that day mentioned the real-life tragedy – not to say that they did not think of it, but it was former wild boy “Evo”, as he is universally known – and rarely “Daniel”, he insists, except by his mother when she is cross with him – who articulated those sympathies. He was funny, insightful, reflective, philosophical, angry, a little sad and, most pertinently to his progress in his sport, relaxed. He doesn’t shout or scream much on court – although he did not spare some of his best expletives for “pockets of idiots” among Tomic’s supporters. There was also a comedian in Tomic’s box who annoyed him. Purely on the evidence of his demeanour, it probably would not do to test the extent of Evans’s response to such goading in less controlled circumstances.
But discipline is what he has added to his play over the past year or so. Where once he might trust his talent and have no regrets about a poor dividend, now he cares more and works out the best route to the finish line.
, the seventh seed and former US Open champion, in the previous round, Evans systematically broke down the more threatening weapons of his opponent, frustrating him to defeat almost. It was a mesmeric effort, the best result and performance of his career, he said.
The Tomic win was not far behind. They are closer in age and ability although Tomic has been a prospect for longer. When he lost to Evans in the second round of the 2013 US Open, he was reluctant in the aftermath to consider him his equal. When I spoke to Tomic the following January in Sydney, not a lot had changed.
“Dan needs to break into the top 100 to be considered anywhere close to me,” he said. “Yeah, he likes to play his shots like me, but you gotta have the talent and you’ve gotta get fit. He’s got the talent, but it hasn’t obviously got him there yet. He put on one show at the US Open [where he then came close to upsetting Tommy Robredo, who went on to beat Roger Federer], but he’s got to keep doing that.
“Britain are hoping for another player, they need one to help out Andy [Murray] in the Davis Cup, so he’s got to get into the top 100. He can play OK, but he’s got to do it consistently.”
Now he is playing OK way more regularly than he once did. The Davis Cup has brought him to life under the careful and caring but not wholly uncritical eye of the team captain, Leon Smith, and he has responded.
His other long-time mentor was the team’s doubles coach, a sage adviser who helped Evans on and off the court whenever he could. They were close and Julien Hoferlin’s death last April from a brain tumour at 49 rocked him hard. “There’s been a lot on Twitter about Jules this week,” he said in his epic post-Tomic press conference. “I’m sure he’s watching somewhere.” He did not look far from tears.
True to his nature, he brightened up considerably when the tone switched to a Twitter spat he has had with Kevin Pietersen after a minor confrontation with the former England cricketer on a Melbourne street. Evans wanted a selfie; KP did not. They exchanged words, and Evans enjoyed it immensely. “I think he was the worse for wear,” he said, chuckling. “There was some serious rage for about 20 minutes after that happened, some serious rage.”
Evo doesn’t shy from serious rage. But he has learned the invaluable trick of turning it to his advantage on court. When he railed at those “pockets of idiots” here the other night, he drew on their anger to help him beat Tomic.
There is much mutual respect between two of the most misunderstood players in the game.
