As of late last night, the men’s draw of the US Open tennis tournament just got a little more US. That’s because for the first time in a generation, fans in Queens will be treated to an all-American semifinal match on Friday, guaranteeing an American in Sunday’s final – the first one since Andy Roddick in 2006. He’s also the last to win in 2003. Since that time, it’s largely been a desert of Europeans celebrating on American soil, while hometown fans focused on the women’s side, where Serena Williams and, more recently, Coco Gauff carried the load for the stars and stripes. But since the days of Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi, who took the torch from John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors, fans have been waiting on who’s next – assuming there was a next.
That train may finally be arriving, at least that’s the hope placed in Friday’s match. That’s when 12th seeded Taylor Fritz will play 20th seeded Francis Tiafoe, a match that will send one of them against either top ranked Jannik Sinner or one of the other three remaining quarterfinalists playing today. Whichever American advances is likely the underdog in the final, although perhaps less so with the support of a highly partisan Arthur Ashe Stadium crowd.
There’s an increased sense amongst American tennis fans that we may finally be coming to the new age of American competitiveness. Five American players are ranked in the top 20, and Tommy Paul, who just lost in the quarters, is the oldest at 27. Both Fritz and Tiafoe are 26, while 13th ranked Ben Shelton may be the most promising at 21 years of age. Granted, it’s not real until it is – meaning American men start actually winning majors instead of hoping to. But for the first time in a long time, it feel more possible than aspirational.
It's not hard to understand why tennis is more global than ever. Add the rise in media coverage to a more robust year-round tennis circuit to new sports powers emerging in the East equals talent coming from across the globe. And an American decline is equally easy to comprehend, as the participatory popularity of the sport has fallen over the years along with the rise of other American sports pastimes, most with far more extensive media presence and greater accessibility. So while the rest of the world rose, the US faded. Changing that momentum is tough – and part of the cautious exuberance of the moment, especially to those who follow the sport.
What’s really interested about this phenomenon, more than the logistics of raising more great tennis stars, is the sociology of it all. It’s not whether or not the US dominates tennis. It’s how that makes us feel as Americans. This idea is pretty obvious in some sports. Like basketball. When the US doesn’t win the gold in men’s basketball, we’re outraged, a blow to our collective self-esteem. We’ve built a similar psyche in other sports, like women’s soccer, swimming, track sprits, women’s gymnastics – all places where we expect to win. And when we don’t, it hurts. This isn’t specific to the US. Consider the Chinese with ping pong and diving. Ask the French how they feel about a dearth of recent champions in the Tour de France, or when the Italians missed the World Cup. They aren’t just disappointed. They’re crushed.
Which leads us back to the US Open and a semifinal match between two Americans. It’s been a while since America has let it’s sense of self be determined by its performance in tennis – I’d suggest Serena Williams was an outlier much like Lance Armstrong was in cycling. But now the tennis gods, or at least its top American players, are asking for another shot. If you couple this with a recent major win on the women’s side by Coco Gauff and three other women in the top ten, it’s an intoxicating prospect. Which means that tickets for Friday’s match are going to be even more exorbitant than usual, which is hard to imagine. And that for Sunday’s final, it’s possible that maybe a few more folks than usual might flip to the Open from the opening weekend of the NFL, America’s true emotional crutch. And if either Tiafoe or Fritz wins it all, which is a huge if, perhaps we’ll fall for the sport all over again, like we did when Johnny and Jimmy faced off – albeit with a far less friendly disposition. And perhaps we’ll finally stop asking, who’s next.
Keith Strudler is the director of the School of Communication and Media at Montclair State University. You can follow him at @KeithStrudler
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