In a recent New York Times interview, Nick Kyrgios said he wants to retire from tennis at the age of 27 (“That’s the absolute max”), and may be okay with taking it easy, being ranked “maybe 10-20 my entire career”, travelling the world, and training every “now and then”.
So, essentially what he’s saying is that from now until the end of his career – around six years away – he doesn’t really want or need to improve.
He’s made it to number 16, and he hints that it’s basically good enough for the rest of his career.
He’s officially lost me as a fan. I’ve defended him constantly over the last two years, because I was under the impression that he wanted to get the most out of his talent.
I wasn’t saying, “Let this guy have his tantrums, because one day he’s going to hover around 16 in the world, beat players he should beat, and lose in slams to genuine contenders.”
He has duped us all.
His Instagram page is titled ‘K1ng Kyrg1os’. He needs to look up the dictionary definition or ‘king’. A king is first in line, not 15th. Maybe he should’ve called his Instagram page ‘C0mm0ner Kyrgi0s’.
This kid has an ego that I’m now almost certain will prevent him from winning a grand slam.
Furthermore, after he retires at 27, he intends to play basketball in Europe. Nick, I’ve seen your highlights on the basketball court, and they’re nothing spectacular.
Kyrgios recently played basketball with some young American tennis players and wasn’t even close to being the best player in that group. I also saw Serbia and Spain at the Olympics, and they were damn good. They’d swipe Kyrgios off the court like one of his thunderous forehands.
Please, Nick, watch the movie Happy Gilmore. That’s you.
Either way, I’m done with Kyrgios. He’ll probably win his first three matches against less talented opponents at the US Open, and lose the fourth round meekly to a guy who matches him in ability, yet wants it more. He did the same at Wimbledon, and it seems that’s what he’s satisfied with until he leaves the game an ‘old’, likely still unworldly man, probably having failed to mature past that ridiculous haircut, at 27.
Goodbye, Nick, and good luck. Not in tennis, but in making sensible life decisions. You’ll need it.
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