Prediction No. 4: Marin Cilic Takes the Slow, Steady—and High—Road to Success
Young players are nothing more than giant questions marks to me. I can rarely decide on first sight whether a talented kid is a sure-shot or a no-shot. Will he be a future No. 1? Top 10? Top 50? Or will I see him feeding balls somewhere on Hilton Head in a couple months? When you try to judge from the sidelines and peer into the future, you’re reminded again how fine the lines are between the players at the upper reaches of the game.
But while the lines may be fine, they’re made of steel. Whether you’re a coach with a trained eye or a casual observer who just tunes into Wimbledon, you know that size, speed, explosiveness, intelligence, fearlessness, motivation, technique, and half a dozen other traits that get tossed into the category of “intangibles” are always present in the very best tennis players. Still, it’s hard to tell, as you sit in the stands and watch a kid for an hour or two, if any of these crucial elements may end up being missing, or whether a surplus of one can make up for a deficit of another. I trust that Robert Lansdorp and Nick Bollettieri can, but I can’t.
Watching Rafael Nadal from up close in early 2005, I didn’t think he would ever become No. 1—I thought his backhand was too stiff and landed too short. I underestimated the degree to which his motivation would make up for that flaw. As for Roger Federer, I loved his game to start, then decided he didn’t have it upstairs and wrote him off for a couple years. That’s about where I am with Richard Gasquet at the moment. Will he prove me wrong? It’s impossible to know. I’m glad for these mysteries of talent and potential. Each new group of kids forces us to consider again what really goes into making a tennis champion.
Last year, one group of 20-something-year-old ATP pros, led by Nadal, Novak Djokovic, and Andy Murray (and not including Gasquet), reached maturity. Just as they were starting to bask in the Grand Slam and Masters Series limelight, an even younger and more physically imposing group, led by Ernests Gulbis, Juan Martin del Potro, and Marin Cilic, was following on their heels. The churn of young talent in tennis is vicious.
So which of the young(er) guns will rise the highest in 2009? As usual, I have no useful clue, but they do seem bent on making an impact from the start—Ernests Gulbis delivered the first significant result of the year in the very first round when he beat top seed Novak Djokovic in Brisbane this week. Like I said, the talent churn is vicious. To paraphrase what someone on TV says in a German accent (OK, I know it’s Heidi Klum): “one year you’re in, and the next year you’re out.” Let’s take a look at the pros and cons of a few members of the new in-crowd, starting at the top.
Juan Martin del Potro
In a surprise to many, including myself, del Potro raced to the front of the youth pack during the last half of 2008. He rose from outside the Top 40 and ended the year in the Top 10. Like Nadal, what had seemed to me like insurmountable obstacles in his game—lack of speed; a service hitch; a stiff forehand stroke; physical and emotional fragility—were negated by a newfound resolve and a commitment to fitness.
As 2009 begins, though, doubts linger. In the Davis Cup final in November, two of his flaws were revealed again when he came unglued, both physically and emotionally, in a tie-turning loss to Feliciano Lopez. Also, I expect opponents and their coaches to find answers to his all-out, flat-out baseline game; the key, I imagine, will be to get his 6-foot-6 frame on the move. I like del Potro and admired his patience and desire last year. For me, what will be interesting this season is whether my early, relatively negative impressions of his game—too slow, too machine-like, too un-nuanced, too fragile—turn out to be more relevant than my later, more positive impressions about his mental strength. Which is the real del Potro?
Ernests Gulbis
And which is the real Gulbis? In 2008, it was a question that could have been asked of him multiple times per match. Each set revealed a different version of the guy—if he wasn’t belting guys off the court with futuristic forehands, he was belting those shots 15 feet long. If you believe that smooth technique and explosiveness are the ultimate harbingers of greatness—Federer ultimately validated this theory—and that raw talent trumps all in the end, then Gulbis is your man for the future. None of the youth brigade possesses anything as awe-inspiring as the jumping forehand missiles he can fire.
I thought at first that Gulbis also had a good head on his shoulders. He’s thoughtful, soft-spoken, even kind of artsy. But as the year went on, I started to wonder if this child of a wealthy Latvian had the hard edge and discipline necessary to make the most of his very raw talent. At Wimbledon and the U.S. Open, Gulbis was lights-out against Nadal and Roddick in first sets, then went down in three straight each time. Not that those were bad losses, but they revealed a head-snapping streakiness in his game and attitude. Of the young guys, Gulbis is my favorite to watch, and his ironic sense of humor is refreshing. But is he too soft, or too evolved, to have a killer instinct?
Sam Querrey
That last question could go double for Sam Querrey, America’s 21-year-old entrant in the young gun sweepstakes. This slack-jawed California kid can also seem too much a child of comfort for the stresses of the tour, too content with his defeats, too pleased to be a professional tennis player. Now, though, his take-it-slow approach just seems realistic. He won’t get too far up or down about any one point or any one match. He’s focused on keeping his equilibrium over the long haul and taking bite-sized chunks out of the rankings. Last year Querrey's goal was to finish No. 32 or higher; he reached No. 39. In 2009, he wants to cut that ranking in half.
I’ve come to think Querrey’s mentality is fine—according to everyone around him, he’s competitive as hell and hungry to learn. Plus, even-keeled is a good way to be when a match gets tight or a few losses start to pile up. He’s also ambitious enough to have changed coaches this winter and aware enough to know that, while his speed isn’t going win him any matches, agility and stamina are what he needs to improve. The question for Querrey is whether all of that is enough to overcome what seems to be a basic deficit in talent—Murray played rings around him when they met in the fall. In this sense he’s the anti-Gulbis: Querrey's strokes can be potent, but his technique and movement can be clunky. There has to be a cost for that, consistency-wise, in the long run. Querrey has a slugger’s game that can surprise anyone on a given day, and he knows how to construct points. But will he ever be complete enough, or agile enough, or fresh enough over five sets, to do it on a regular basis? How far can a level head and a gun for a serve take you?
Marin Cilic
The dark-faced 6-foot-6 Croat is the most serious-looking of this crew, and he may end up being the most serious contender. I started by questioning whether his loopy, slappy forehand could become a consistent weapon. While it’s still pretty loopy, I was converted to Cilic’s cause during his scintillating defeat to Djokovic in a night match at the Open last fall. The kid had the serve and the return, the forehand and the backhand. And at the end of that match, with his back against the wall, he showed that he can raise his game with the bright lights shining on him—low-key and workmanlike on the outside, he seemed to relish the stage that night.
Better, Cilic is well-coached, by Boris Becker’s old mentor Bob Brett, who says that his student has got a deeply-rooted work ethic and isn’t stubborn about adjusting. His serve alone will keep him competitive on most days, and his head-to-the-ground, under-the-radar approach should serve him well over this season, now that the 21-year-old is fully used to the pro game. I expect him to rival del Potro in the rankings and reach a Slam semi.
My one reservation in the longer term is that Cilic reminds me so much of Mario Ancic, the last hard-working beanpole from Croatia. It's hard to find anyone more focused or dedicated than Ancic, as any fan who has heard him huff and puff through a match can attest. But how much focus is too much focus? Will Cilic, like Ancic, lack the creativity of Federer, the passion of Djokovic, the little sparks of genius of Nadal? Maybe what the kid could is a touch of the wacko spirit of his other countryman, the most successful of all, Goran Ivanisevic. You don't see it in his eyes? Well, like I said, you never can tell what’s inside a young player. That’s what keeps us watching and guessing.