NEW YORK—All the world's a stage and Marin Cilic continues to cast himself as a major player. The Croat transformed today's quarterfinal into an imposing serving soliloquy, upstaging Tomas Berdych, 6-2, 6-4, 7-6 (4), to advance to the U.S. Open semifinals for the first time.
The lanky 25-year-old delivered sound and fury on serve. He served 63 percent, pounded 19 aces, and won 84 percent of his first-serve points. Cilic has worked with coach and childhood hero Goran Ivanisevic on strengthening his serve and aggression, and his streamlined service motion and lower ball toss were assets against a blustery wind and big-hitting opponent.
This was more than a Grand Slam quarterfinal; it was Cilic's chance to establish himself as a big-match player. A quest for identity that coach Goran, who knows a bit about overcoming ghosts, described in Shakespearean terms.
"It's to be or not to be," Ivanisevic, sporting a Hamlet-style beard, baseball cap and aviator shades to combat the strong sun, told ESPN's Pam Shriver before the match. "[The difference] between quarterfinals or semifinals is a huge difference."
No one knows that better than Cilic, who has lost a pair of U.S. Open quarterfinals to eventual champions—Juan Martin del Potro (2009) and Andy Murray (2012). This time, he followed a simple script: Dictate on serve, stay aggressive, and play angles to force his flatter-hitting opponent to respond on the run.
That game plan—along with stage fright, a swirling wind, and an agile, 6'6" opponent—all conspired to torment Berdych, who came out with a basic blueprint: Hit through Cilic and the wind. He wasn't remotely successful in either endeavor. Big Berd's flat shots sailed long, expired in net, and even collided into the Mercedes star next to the net post a couple of times.
Cracking an angled backhand return, Cilic broke for the fourth time in five service games for a 2-0 second set lead. Throughout the tournament, Berdych dead-bolted service games shut, holding in 60 of his 64 service games. Just 34 minutes into the match, the spooked Czech was serving 42 percent, dumped four double faults, was winning just 33 percent of his second-serve points, and had surrendered serve four times already.
A muted crowd, perhaps with visions of the evening's Federer-Monfils quarterfinal dancing in their heads, and flat Berdych created a dead atmosphere at the outset. It felt more like a second-rounder in Miami than a Grand Slam quarterfinal. When Berdych clanked his fifth double fault to face break point again, the crowd erupted with its largest roar of the day, trying to exhort the Czech into making a match of it. He answered the call, saving break point to hold for 2-3 before Cilic slammed down his second straight love hold to stretch the lead to 4-2.
Unleashing his inner Goran when serving for the set, Cilic unloaded three consecutive aces for triple set point, then tightened briefly. On his third set point, he kicked a second serve that Berdych floated long. The first serve was the last word: Cilic served 74 percent, won 16 of 17 first-serve points, and slammed seven aces in the 44-minute second set.
Hitting through his forehand, Berdych began to target Cilic's weakness, which is his tendency to sometimes decelerate on the deep ball down the middle to his forehand. But serving at 4-2, 30-15, Berdych lost the plot. Running hard for a drop shot, he scraped the ball off the second bounce. Chair umpire Louise Engzell immediately—and correctly—ruled not up, awarding the point to Cilic. "Have you ever had a racquet in your hand?" a seething Berdych hissed. "This is absolutely a terrible call."
Berdych, who may bite his tongue when he sees a replay, followed with two errors to gift back the break.
At 4-4 in the tiebreaker, Berdych flat-lined his third forehand error of the session. Cilic slid an ace down the middle for match point and closed by crunching a forehand winner and wearing a wide smile. The world No. 16 double bounced Berdych out of a second straight Grand Slam. The USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center is built on a landfill that was once an ash dump—a fitting setting for a man rising from the dust of a drug suspension that forced him to miss the Open last year.