Grandstand and del Potro come alive with improbable, five-set comeback

NEW YORK—The Ghost of Grandstand Past would have appreciated tonight's rousing atmosphere in the new Grandstand, which officially debuted at last year's US Open but has only now been truly christened.

But if he could find a space to occupy among the clamorous, overflowing crowd, the Ghost wasn’t smiling for long. Juan Martin del Potro, the former Open champion whose match with sixth-seeded Dominic Thiem attracted such a giant following late Monday afternoon, looked to be at death's door as the fourth-rounder began. Reported to be dealing with a cold and fever, the Argentine was sweating bullets at changeovers, going through shirts and towels like sips of water. In between one point, del Potro plugged one side of his nose so he could blow out the other. He looked ghastly, winning just three games over the first two sets.

It was the first of many considerable deficits that both del Potro and Thiem would improbably overcome over the court of three hours and 35 minutes of dramatic tennis—at times lopsided, perplexing, astonishing and, ultimately, compelling.

That del Potro made any match of this at all was surprising enough. When he did, and subsequently broke serve for a 2-1 lead in the fourth set, the shellshocked Austrian immediately won the next four games to seemingly secure the match.

Then it was del Potro’s turn to shock. Serving at 3-5, del Potro fell behind 0-30. He won the next four points to hold. Returning at 4-5, del Potro fell behind 30-0. He won the next four points to break. The capacity crowd, all wearing baby blue and white on their sleeves if not their shirts, was at full bellow.

"I think the people loves my effort to come back and play tennis," said del Potro. "They know what have been through with all my wrist problems. They like one guy who never give ups, and he's trying to play tennis.

"You can see my backhand is not good enough yet, but I'm still trying. I think the people likes that."

More deficits would come, and more would be conquered. After Thiem stopped the bleeding with a hold for 6-5, he earned two match points. Del Potro responded: Ace, ace. The crowd responded: Ole, ole, ole, ole!

Del Potro couldn’t miss if he tried—even if the timing on his atomic forehands is equally as precise as that required by Thiem's array of heavy, spin-infused shots. Del Potro unleashed another crosscourt explosion to punctuate a dominant fourth-set tiebreaker, taking the match the distance and sending the raucous crowd into further frenzy.

Thiem’s time to shine would come. Serving at 2-3 in the decider, he fell behind 0-40. Having lost almost everything already, Thiem went for broke with forehands and backhands, erasing the trio of break points. His groundstrokes, hit with such lethal power, depth and spin over the first two sets, returned at the just the moment he needed them. Of course they did.

The holding pattern continued to 5-4, when del Potro, after saving two match points, finally earned one of his own. Naturally, it was now the time that his high-impact forehand caught the middle of the net. Had del Potro been forced to rally on a second match point, he might have missed with it again.

But when Thiem double faulted two points later, confusion set in. Did del Potro actually complete this comeback? Did someone actually fail to deliver another remarkable plot twist? The answers would be supplied by Hawk-Eye. Thiem had won two challenges earlier this match by angstroms, but when it determined that his second serve, and final shot, landed out, the crowd let out a roar only the old Grandstand could surpass in intensity.

"When I saw all this crowd cheering for me," an emotional del Potro said on court afterward, "I fight because of you guys."

As amazing as del Potro's comeback was, it may not have been the most unlikely over the last 24 hours. On Sunday night, in college football, the UCLA Bruins rallied from 34 points down with just over 17 minutes to play and won. In this case, Thiem was Texas A&M—even the first and last letters of those names match.

But as Thiem walked away from this match undoubtedly disappointed, shocked and potentially scarred, he also walked away appreciative of the unique setting.

"It didn't affect me at all," Thiem said of the partisan crowd. "I was really pumped to play in front of a packed Grandstand. I mean, I really liked it. I enjoy more to play in a packed stadium, even if it's more for the opponent, than in front of 500 people where everybody is cheering for me."

When del Potro sullenly dropped the second set but soldiered on, defeat all but assured, I wondered if the fan favorite kept going not because he believed he could win, but to acknowledge the immense reception he’d received. As it turns out, I was on to something.

"I was trying to retire the match in the second set," del Potro admitted in press. "Then I saw the crowd waiting for more tennis, waiting for my good forehands, good serves. I took all that energy to change in a good way and think about fight and not retire."

Nonetheless, as I’ve been guilty of before, I underestimated del Potro, who never gets tight—unlike Thiem, it must be said—and can't ever be counted out.

"I knew that it's not going to go all the way like this," Thiem said of del Potro's early malaise, "because if he felt really bad, he would have retired for sure."

Three sets later, del Potro stood in the middle of Grandstand court—the center of attention at the US Open, even with Roger Federer playing next door. He spread his arms up high and wide, and looked skyward, sweating bullets and losing more fluid in the form of tears.

The new Grandstand had its first major moment, and Juan Martin del Potro had another.