PARIS—Late yesterday I looked up and saw that Alexandr Dolgopolov, the mercurial Ukrainian magician, was about to begin on Court 14. Too bad, I thought, that I had a lot of writing to do at that moment. Dolgopolov is one of those guys who’s always worth a look, if only for a few games, just to see what tennis can look like at its extremes—extremes of gracefulness and creativity, as well as total lack of killer instinct.
I couldn’t get out there to see Dolgo make the ball bounce and die on one point, and rocket through the court on the next. But I knew one person, a Japanese photographer with long hair and a penchant for 70s-style shirts, who had probably carved out some time for the trip. I don't know him, but I had seen him taking shots of Dolgopolov on other occasions, and I know other people who had reported his presence at his matches. Looking at Dolgopolov through his photog’s eyes, I could see why he would go out of his way. Whether he’s going through the rapid-fire contortions of his service motion of letting a forehand take him airborne, Dolgopolov is a player worth recording. Especially since he probably won't be in the record books themselves.
The other reason you can count on Dolgo's fans to come out to see him is that you never know when you’re going to have the chance again. Dolgopolov has been blessed with many things, but the ability to compete well over an extended period is not one of them. He’s not the only one. The early rounds at any major are littered with the gifted and the flawed, the guys that tennis fans call “fun to watch,” a term that which, at one level, is code for, “someone you’ve stopped hoping will ever win anything, so you just enjoy the ride while it lasts.” Still, the sport would be poorer and less varied, its fabric plainer and more threadbare, without their original and often admittedly bone-headed brainstorms, their various slices, dices, leaps, and twirls. They’re the best argument for having 128 people, rather than a more sensible 16, in the draw.
The first three days at Roland Garros are a haven for the Fun to Watch. Many of these wayward artistes over the years, from Suzanne Lenglen to Richard Gasquet, have been French. And clay allows for more slide and flow, as well as more opportunities for that favorite guilty pleasure of this genre of player, the drop shot.
Yesterday, along with Dolgopolov, I got the first glimpse I’ve had of everyone’s former favorite head case, Ernests Gulbis, since the Australian Open. In vintage Gulbis fashion, he wasted no time crushing our hopes immediately, by going down two sets, 1-5, and 0-40, triple match point, to Mikhail Kukushkin. For some inexplicable reason, he resurrected the Ernie of old, the Ernie with the gun for a serve and the howitzer for a forehand, and came all the back to even the match at two sets all. Then, serving to stay in the match at 4-5, he was broken at love; I think he was scratching his own head about it all as he walked to the net. Gulbis, formerly of the Top 25, is currently ranked No. 93 and is 6-9 in 2012. Like most others, I had believed him to be mostly, as they say, “over.” But I enjoyed his comeback nonetheless, right until the moment I realized it was going to be futile.
I moved on again and put Day 1 behind me. This morning, though, I found myself, against my better judgment, back out on a side court watching one former hopeful, Donald Young, play another one who has at times seemed to be verging on the former, Grigor Dimitrov. It’s hard to recall now, but Young was a favorite of mine when he was a junior. When he was winning, the great hands and exciting athleticism overshadowed the temper.
While Dimitrov hasn’t taken off the way I might have liked, I’ll still go out of my way to catch a set of his—maybe it’s the fact that Dimitrov hasn't yet accomplished enough to be a major disappointment that leaves me less frustrated when he goes out early. Today, though, the Bulgarian wins the first in a tiebreaker and takes off from there. By the third, we can see what Dimitrov might look like in full, confident flight. The forehands are taken early and drilled; the backhand, usually a liability, is heavy and deep.
I walk out cheered by the sight of potential, however fleetingly and perhaps even meaninglessly, fulfilled. Were we done with the Fun to Watch types for another fortnight? Not quite. When I get back to my desk, I see that Benoit Paire is on Court 2. Paire, a lanky 23-year-old who sports a woolly beard, is the latest, flashiest, and perhaps the most twisted French artiste yet. I’ve seen him play just a few times in the past, and he never failed to inspire extremely mixed emotions.
There was, first of all, awe at his tennis-in-reverse shotmaking. Paire uses his backhand like a forehand—his inside-out two-hander is his kill shot. He likes his drop volleys to be as apathetic-looking as possible, and he's liable to send a nonchalant slice forehand spinning into the corner at any time, even down match point. At his best, like Dolgopolov, Paire opens up your mind to the shot-making possibilities in the sport. If today’s strings are what allow him to create the kinds of spins he does, then I’m all for the strings.
Of course, all of the reasons you love to watch Paire are the same reasons you end up making guffaws of frustration when he plays. Today he wins the first two sets from Albert Ramos, then does his best to avoid winning a close third set—you can only get so many apathetic-looking drop volleys to work on any given day. Just when I think he’s going to go the way of Ernie and Dolgo, though, Paire rights himself and wins the fourth 6-3—the guy's a talent.
But there’s also something about Paire that’s not as Fun to Watch as Dolgopolov. The Ukrainian has an innocent grace about him, while Paire’s tennis, and his choices, can seem perverse. He leaves you amazed, but also agitated. I find myself agreeing with the French commentator after Paire somehow misses an overhead from on top of the net—a shot that would have been infinitely easier to hit in than to hit out. The announcer’s reaction: “Ay yi yi yi yi yi yi!”
But there's no question I’ll tune in to Paire’s next match. For better or worse, I won’t see shots like his anywhere else.