Like her idol Nadal, Kasatkina embraces suffering en route to victory

PARIS—It was now all about the fight. It hadn’t started that way on Court 18, but as usually happens in a tennis match, it was about to end that way.

Never mind that 14th-seeded Daria Kasatkina was the favorite versus 38th-ranked Maria Sakkari in this third-round matchup. Never mind that if you sized up these two, it was clear that like the vast majority of tennis players, Sakkari was at heart a ball-striker, her game grounded in disciplined composition and the belief that a tennis court was fundamentally a rectangle.

But Kasatkina has more. The 20-year-old Russian is a problem-solver, perhaps eventually one of the highest realm, able not just to hit the ball but also to see the court, conceive height, angle, spin, pace—tennis in her eyes a parallelogram of possibilities. From childhood, Kasatkina had not just studied strokes. She had carefully assessed opponents, was annoyingly adept at helping them become accomplices in their own demise with subtle disruptions to their contact point and her own brand of firepower.

Kasatkina-Sakkari was the first match of the day, an 11:00 a.m. start to an overcast morning perfect for viewing tennis. It also happened to be the commencement of the tournament’s pivot point. The first Friday of a major represents a delightful transition; for some, the beginning of end, but for the victors, the end of the beginning. As the first week draws to a close, it’s clear that act one of the three that comprise a Slam will soon end. By nightfall on Friday and Saturday, the third round will be over. We’ll have arrived at act two, the thick part of the tale that in time rampages through to the grand coda.

Maria Sakkari.

The 22-year-old Sakkari’s arrival at this stage of Roland Garros meant she’d now reached the third round of all four majors. Kasatkina, two years younger, was trying to reach the fourth round for the second time (she’d made it that far last year at the US Open). Having won the juniors at Roland Garros four years ago, she considered the French Open her favorite major.

Often, the morning energy of a field court such as 18 is rather languid, the stands only partially full. But that was not the case for this match. Just about every seat was filled on this overcast morning.

Time now to issue a correction. Three days ago I asserted that Svetlana Kuzentsova is the most versatile of Russian players. Clarity: the most versatile of the Russians who emerged in the 2000s, including Maria Sharapova, Dinara Safina, Elena Dementieva.

Kasatkina has an even more pleasing arsenal. Her forehand is a whopper, a shot she can arc high and deep or flatten out with minimal effort. Her backhand is even more relaxed; she's able to drive a two-hander or hit a liquid-smooth pearl of a slice. And the serve, already a fluid kick and occasional flat delivery, figures to get even better in the years to come. Though hardly present on the clay, Kasatkina is also comfortable at the net.

With those enchanting assets nicely harnessed, Kasatkina didn’t so much race to an early lead as glide to it. For most of the 27-minute first set, Kasatkina was the driver, Sakkari the passenger, gazing out the window as the Russian’s shots sank into the proper pockets and the Greek's flew painfully out of place. Save for the occasional crisp two-handed backhand, Sakkari’s game was random, her forehand too flat, her forward movement negligible, her imagination meager.

Handily, Kasatkina took 12 of the first 14 points and went on to win the opener, 6-1.  Said Kasatkina of her opponent, “She was not ready for the intensity.”

Match highlights:

But clay—even more so on a thick day like this one—rarely permits a runaway.

To her credit, Sakkari shook off the early nerves and began to dig herself into the match. After the two exchanged breaks to start the second set, Sakkari didn’t just grab Kasatkina’s ankle. She took a big bite, streaking though it, 6-1. At which point, Kasatkina took a bathroom break. On her way back to the court, Kasatkina gave herself a motivational talk, uttering as she put it, “bad things to myself.”

But for all the texture, elegance and subtlety of Kasatkina’s game, do not fancy her primarily smitten with tennis’ exemplary artist, Roger Federer. When she was eight, Kasatkina saw the man who has become her tennis idol, Rafael Nadal. Certainly the Spaniard’s topspin forehand was one shot Kasatkina sought to mimic.

Serving in the third at 2-1, 30-all, Kasatkina overhit two straight forehands. After 73 minutes, it was deadlocked. Variety and artistry—all subordinate to another Nadal principle Kasatkina well knew. To be a great tennis player, you must also learn to suffer.

“We have to suffer a lot during the tennis match,” said Kasatkina. “[Nadal’s] right. Even today, I was suffering. But this is something you have to go through.”

Three straight errors from Sakkari made the task easier. Kasatkina broke for 3-2, opened that sixth game with double-faults and then rallied to take that game—aided less by variety and more by sheer mobility. On the final point, a long forehand from Sakkari elicited a big scream from Kasatkina. Even then, Sakkari wasn’t finished, rallying from 2-4, 15-40 to get back to deuce. The crowd, mildly tranquilized by the up-down pair of 6-1 sets, began to clap loudly. On the third deuce, Sakkarai netted a backhand, then double-faulted to hand Kasatkina a two-break lead of 5-2.

Surely now Kasatkina would seal the deal. But another double-fault set the tone for her to broken at 15. Suffer? How about having to drive a stake through Sakkari’s heart, once and for all? The Russian reached love-40 on Sakkari’s serve. Two match points were erased, the second with a sweet ace down the T—Sakkari’s first of the match. On the third, Sakkari netted a forehand. Kasatkina had come across tennis’ sober truth. She had suffered for her art.

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