Stefanos Tsitsipas needs to hit the reset button, and Monte Carlo is as good a place to do it as any

HIGHLIGHTS: Carlos Alcaraz got the better of Stefanos Tsitsipas at last year's US Open, and again at the recent Miami Masters.

Shortly after losing an Australian Open semifinal to Daniil Medvedev early this year, Stefanos Tsitsipas told the media that the comedic height of the tournament occurred during his third-round encounter with Benoit Paire, when the chair umpire gave Tsitsipas an official warning for a coaching violation.

“I was laughing (about that) the other day because. . . my coach (Tsitsipas’ father, Apostolos) was, like, five kilometers away at the other end,” Tsitsipas said, “And somehow I got a coaching violation. I just, I think that was the funniest moment of the Australian Open.”

Obviously, not everyone—and certainly not Tsitsipas’s opponent that day—found the incident hilarious, or even memorable. But the passive-aggressive comment is emblematic of a surprising transformation in the 23-year-old Greek sensation. Once the charismatic new kid on the block, delivering earnest philosophical monologues and vlogging his way around the world, the game’s shiny new penny has become a little tarnished. Tsitsipas is complicated, while—or perhaps because?—his drive to break through to Grand Slam nirvana has been thwarted.

Currently ranked No. 5 but once as high as No. 3, Tsitsipas’ career seems in danger of going sideways. His popularity among his peers has waned dramatically due to alleged gamesmanship and coaching violations. No longer a stranger to boobirds, Tsitsipas has seen many of his rivals—Medvedev, Alexander Zverev, Dominic Thiem—snatch away titles that seemed well within his grasp. He’s been unable to surpass or even match his career-achievement to date, a win at the 2019 ATP Finals. Meanwhile, players who have the tools to handle Tsitsipas—consider other contemporaries Casper Ruud, Andrey Rublev and Carlos Alcaraz—continue to emerge or improve.

I don’t want to be stuck behind. I don’t want to be seeing other people proceed and progress, kind of me stay stagnant. Tsitsipas during the recent Miami Masters, after recovering from minor elbow surgery last fall and falling to Medvedev late in the Australian Open for the second consecutive year.

Tsitsipas is in need of a career reset, which is not an easy thing for a mature player to accomplish. And there may be no better time and place for that undertaking than the coming weeks of clay-court tennis in Europe. Winning his first title on the surface in 2019 in Estoril was a springboard to spectacular results. In 2021 he won his first (and thus far only) Masters 1000 title at Monte Carlo, and then lost a see-saw final to all-timer Rafael Nadal in Barcelona. And, of course, he led Novak Djokovic by two sets in the French Open final before falling in five.

On Tuesday, Tsitsipas kicked off his 2022 clay-court campaign with an impressive, 6-3, 6-0 win over Fabio Fognini; he'll face Laslo Djere in Thursday's round of 16.

Tsitsipas is comfortable on clay, some of his main rivals less so, principally Medvedev, who may decide to sit out the segment anyway due to surgery for a hernia. That’s good news for Tsitsipas, as the two have a tense, adversarial relationship. Medvedev flat-out accused Tsitsipas of receiving coaching during their Australian Open match this year (officials agreed, hitting Tsitsipas with a code violation warning). In return, Tsitsipas accused Medvedev of gamesmanship, complaining that his accusation “…could be maybe a tactic. It’s all right. He’s not the most mature person anyways.”

Tsitsipas, though, is an equal opportunity offender. He was dismissive of emerging talent Jenson Brooksby after he bamboozled Tsitsipas in the third round at Indian Wells: “I don’t think there’s something that makes him tricky to play,” Tsitsipas said of Brooksby’s mesmerizing, unorthodox game.

He then issued this world-class back-handed compliment: “He’s not a very explosive player, but he’s able to get balls back. He’s not the most athletic player, as well. He’s just able to read the game well. There’s nothing that he has that kills, I would say.”

Tsitsipas has also alienated veterans, including the much-loved Andy Murray. After losing a bitter, first-round, five-set battle with Tsitsipas at the US Open last year, Murray said that the bathroom break Tsitsipas took to change his sweaty clothing late in the match was a calculated piece of gamesmanship. It lasted so long, about eight minutes, that Murray not only lost momentum, he also cooled off.

“I have zero time for that stuff,” Murray said. “I lost respect for him.”

“I don’t think I broke any rules,” Tsitsipas fired back, referring to the fact that there is no specific time limit on how long a player can take to change his clothing. “…I don't know how my opponent feels when I’m out there playing the match. It’s not really my priority.”

Fans sided with Murray, riding Tsitsipas during his third-round, fifth-set tiebreaker loss to rising star Alcaraz. (“It's kind of bitter, especially after such an incredible fourth set,” said Tsitsipas, who won that fourth set 6-0. “I have never seen someone play such a good fifth set [as Alcaraz], honestly.”)

Some might attribute the significant number of heartbreaking losses Tsitsipas has absorbed at major tournaments to karma. It may also be that he so often sounds haughty, even sour, because he genuinely feels persecuted. He has insisted that coach-father Apostolos is venting, not coaching, during matches.

“I cannot hear anything when I’m playing. It’s impossible,” Tsitsipas insisted after his most recent loss to Medvedev, arguing that it would take “super hearing” to understand a coach’s words due to crowd noise. He said of his father’s conduct: “Look, he’s a person that when he gets into something when there is a lot of action, his medicine is to talk, and you can’t stop it. It’s something that he does from nature. I’ve talked to him about it. I’ve tried, spent countless hours trying to figure it out with him.”

But how hard can it be for a grown man to keep his mouth shut? Meanwhile, Tsitsipas continues to insist that he is being targeted, and doesn’t seem very interested in winning back friends and peers he may have alienated.

“Look, I'm not pretending that everyone loves me,” he said, after his 2021 loss in Alcaraz in New York. “I don't want to be—my intentions are not to be loved by everyone. Because people don’t know, that's the thing. When people are not really in the sport and don't know what is happening, I mean, all these accusations have been completely false.”

It’s never a good look to attribute your troubles to the ignorance of others, or to make groundless claims of persecution. Tsitsipas is on the cusp of learning that it can get very lonely, even when you’re not at the top.