The uncertainty that has flooded through the men’s draw from the moment Andy Murray withdrew before a ball was struck – joining Novak Djokovic and Stan Wawrinka as the stellar absentees – suggested this US Open would be remembered as the tournament of opportunities. It has been that: but lost, rather than taken.
It was the saddest of sights on Friday watching Kyle Edmund gripped by a back spasm halfway through his 10th match in a fortnight, back on the Arthur Ashe Stadium he shared with Djokovic a year ago and where the 22-year-old would now leave with the applause for his vibrant young opponent, Denis Shapovalov, ringing in his ears.
Before they stepped on to the main court here, Edmund, four years older than the Canadian teenager and riding an encouraging wave of form, had every reason to believe he would finally get to know what Murray felt like as a Briton at the end of the first week of a slam: on his own but powering towards the fourth round, and maybe beyond, with confidence.
Yet, just as the heavy weight of the Tour had finally cut Murray down, his hip aching as much as his spirit, Edmund too succumbed to circumstances beyond his control. So bemused was he when pain rippled through his upper vertebrae when he was 3-2 up in the third and serving that no amount of encouragement from the on-court physio could convince him he could continue.
He did, until the start of the fourth but, as he said later: “It’s a tough thing to go on a centre court, the biggest court in the world and just feel a bit helpless. What do I do? Do you carry on to the end? But you just go through the motions and it’s a bit of a sorry state. You don’t want to pull out straightaway. You want to say things are going to get better. But I just thought, well, am I going to win two more sets like this?”
That is the perennial dilemma for players. They are all carrying injuries of varying seriousness, they all want to win, some more than others, and they all know it is impossible to win every match. Even Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, who have been scared witless here, cannot do it.
So, strip out the genius from the equation, park the legends to one side, and for the rest, it is all about opportunities. And that is where we came in: Edmund – and every other bright-eyed contender – knew this Open could provide them with the chance they have all been pretty much denied since they started playing.
It is nearly always about Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, Murray, Wawrinka. Very rarely does anyone else get a chance at the end of a slam to test themselves at the ultimate level. They have to settle for the sort of exit Edmund endured, near tears and devastated because his body, rather than his tennis, had let him down.
Edmund was the last Brit standing, or hobbling. Gone already from the small British contingent were Aljaz Bedene, who may not play again this season, and Cameron Norrie, who led Dmitry Tursunov before the old Russian warhorse quit in the first round but lost at the next time of asking to Pablo Carreño Busta.
The 25-year-old Spaniard, as good as he is, can hardly have expected to be the highest seed (12) on his side of the draw at the end of the first week. But he is and he next plays Shapovalov. Edmund, had he beaten the Canadian in their third meeting after a win apiece, would have been there across the net from Carreño Busta in the fourth round on Sunday. Would he have won? Not with a bad back, certainly, but before he was depowered by injury he was playing as well as he has done in his career.
Those are the vagaries of the sport that plague and benefit all players. But at this tournament, there is a definite sense that tennis is at some sort of crossroads, with nobody sure of the next result. Edmund was as likely to beat Carreño Busta as, perhaps, young Frances Tiafoe or old Mikhail Youzhny were to take Federer five sets.
Now one side of the draw is so lop-sided, with what might charitably regarded as also-rans, it will be a sideshow to the main entertainment in the other half. Who among the following, for instance, would have attracted even passing interest from punters: Sam Querrey (17), who next plays Mischa Zverev (23); unseeded Paolo Lorenzi or No28 Kevin Anderson; Lucas Pouille (16) or the smallest man in the tournament, Diego Schwartzman? Then there is the unseeded but brilliant Shapovalov and Carreño Busta. The latter, to his own amazement, may be favourite to reach the semi-finals.
For what it’s worth, Schwartzman could be the man. He has a pugnacity about him that is impossible to ignore. He has no great weapons, but the ones he does have he uses to full advantage. Shapovalov, I think, will blow up in his next match under the weight of expectation, Anderson will out-serve Lorenzi and Zverev – the older brother of the alleged saviour of the game, Alexander – will drive Querrey to distraction with his serve-and-volley game.
There is tension in every match, which makes for great sporting theatre although Johanna Konta, Britain’s best hope of success at the start of the fortnight, could have done without the drama. Her first-round loss to the Muscovite-based in Serbia, Aleksandra Krunic, followed a similarly crushing early loss at the French Open against Hsieh Su-wei, a 31-year-old doubles specialist from Taiwan who is 101 places below her in the rankings and had not beaten anyone in the top 10 in nine years.
Krunic had her own purple patch here three years ago, when she beat Petra Kvitova – but also then went back to scrabbling about on the fringes of the game. Konta has to beat players of that calibre if she is going to fulfil her potential. She knew, too, that without Serena Williams the women’s draw had already been ripped wide open.
For everyone in the first week here it has been about grabbing the moment.
