The quintessential tennis bad boy reflects on the Wimbledon finalist, and how music taught him to be a better commentator
It’s the same every year. Over just as you are beginning to fall in love with it. This is Wimbledon’s special power – to creep up on you every day, teasing itself momentarily into your routine before, just as you are starting to let it in, it wraps itself up for another year.
This time round this familiar, small loss is a touch sharper. What will we all do without the drama? In the men’s losing finalist, Nick Kyrgios, 2022 had that component missing from so many of the recent years it has meandered along, speaking to itself; a character so volatile, so at odds with what Wimbledon understands of Wimbledon, so talented and brattish and irrational and unknowable, that the world outside leans in to watch it all too. And what sport, honestly, doesn’t love it when everyone does that.