I had been hearing a lot about this quantum leap Donald Young has taken in his game, so I went to have a look for myself yesterday. Donald was up against Feliciano Lopez on Louis Armstrong, which became a great little stadium when they chopped the top off. As much as I like the Grandstand Court here at the USTABJKNTC, that half-shadow, half-sunlight thing that happens there is irritating, and it can feel a little closed-in and, somehow, dank. But Louee, when the light is soft and molten late in the afternoon on a sunny day, is a joy.
Young and Lopez were both dressed in Nike Suite Gear, the stuff Nike puts into its annual US Open player Goody bag. Jesse Levine talked about this the other day, after his opening round loss to Nikolay Davydenko. Levine's eyes got wide as saucers as he described his pilgrimage to the Nike suite (I think it was at the Parker-Meridian hotel) to collect the handout. "I'm going to have to buy a new suitcase to get that stuff home," he boasted. "But I've got not problem with that."
The Nike foot soldier uniform this year looks pretty awful to me, style-wise: it's that gray-white-yellow combo, with a busy, striped jersey that makes a player look like he's wearing the label on a bottle of Ocean Spray cranberry juice. The only difference in the appearance of the two players was that Lopez was working that devil-may-care headband look, while Young was wearing a Nike trucker's cap. Ever notice how huge a cap looks on Young? It's like the dude, who's only 5-9, and officially listed as 145 pounds, is all hat and sneakers.
By contrast, Lopez is a substantial guy with thick legs. So, if you didn't know better, you would have thought this a mis-match. And just a few months ago, it would have been. But something seemed to click in Young's game since Wimbledon, and I got beyond his personal history (Young became the cautionary tale de jour about a year ago, during his first forays forays onto the pro tour, where he was conspicuously over-matched). Yesterday, I tried to see him with fresh eyes, and they were impressed by how much weight and penetration his shots have gained. The kid hits a really nice, "live" ball, and he is one of those players who can really exploit his natural advantage as a lefty - something that remarkably few pros, starting with Rafael Nadal, really do. Young can serve with vicious slice or kick, and he uses his wrist - let's all observe a moment of silence, in honor of that other ultimate wristy southpaw, Rod Laver - to good effect.
Young won the first set, and he was cooking along on serve in the second until the sixth game. He was broken for 2-4, and he immediately lost his cool. Over the course of the next few points and games, he petulantly flung his racket to the ground, berated at himself, cranked and twisted his head this way and that in disbelief - in short, he indulged in all the affectations and mannerisms of a frustrated kid who simultaneously felt tortured and bored. I wanted to reach over the railing and shake him, saying, This Lopez guy is getting a big boost out of the little show you're putting on for him. Why don't you just turn your back, squat, and invite Feli to kick your butt for real, too.
Young lost his composure so thoroughly that when Lopez closed out the seventh game with a clear ace, Young chose to challenge. The big screen and Hawkeye showed that you could fit a doormat between where the ball landed and any line; it was so bad that Lopez actually started laughing, and the rest of the stadium joined in. It was not a particularly good moment to be young Donald.
Next to me, Andrew Friedman remarked, "Look at Lopez smiling, you can see his teeth from here."
I took a little break from the match to watch two sets of the Roger Federer vs. John Isner match, and when I returned Young was down two sets to one and serving at 2-3. In the third set tiebreaker, Young had pushed the score to 4-all, only to double-fault and come unglued, losing it, 7 points to 5. Lopez, by contrast, worked methodically, putting constant pressure on Young with an artful mixture of baseline and attacking tennis, projecting nothing but confidence and determination.
Young seemed to lack patience. He played some terrific shots and combinations, but his signature flaw - running right through his volleys, instead of planting his feet when he hit them - seemed symbolic of his general approach. The kid was playing a third-round US Open tennis match like he was in a big hurry to get it over so he could rush home to watch some, well, US Open tennis or something. . .
It struck me that in the juniors, Young was so superior and confident, that he could get away with falling out of sorts and moping. I recall seeing him do it in a few occasions. He would just gather himself again a few games later, and return to his preferred role as the kicker or buttski, rather than the kickee. But he can't get away with that in the pros - no way, no how. He comes in with too many disadvantages, starting with a paucity of power. If Young is going to succeed, he has to ramp up his mental game by significant degrees.
But it isn't like Young is playing junior-grade tennis - not anymore. The most interesting about him is that while he doesn't seem to have grown up at all (he may be one of those kids who matures overnight), his game has grown up. No doubt about it. And if his body grows and fills out as much as his game has - weird as that sounds - he will become a force on the tour. But he needs to work on that attitude; he needs to control his frustration and cultivate patience, and the ability to work through whatever problems he's having during a match without making the other guy feel like a regular Roger Federer.
Young came into the interview room with his usual stylin' touches - diamond earrings and a cap that, while worn in a rakish, sideways manner, still looked too big. Yhis is a cartoon character - Young Donald, International Tennis Star! - waiting to be created. He said of Lopez: "He served well, I thought he served amazing. I had a couple of opportunities and missed them. I was a little tentative, but all credit to him, I feel he played really well, yeah."
It's funny, but while I appreciate how respectful Young was, I wish he would have said something more like this: The guy played a good tight match, and served well, especially at some points when it really counted. But I lost my cool a little out there, and slipped instead of stepping it up when I needed to. I had chances all the way in the match, it was a great opportunity that I didn't really take advantage of. . .
When he was asked how he liked getting to the third round at the US Open, Young said it was "awesome." I don't mean to sound uncharitable, but let's not forget that Young had a walkover (against Richard Gasquet) in the second round. But it isn't really about me wishing that Young had perceived more of an opportunity here, it's about Young needing to have a better ide of what it takes to survive and prosper on the main tour. Because of this I am sure: He needs to expect and demand more of himself, and he needs to figure out a way to realize those expectations and satisfy those demands. That is, he needs to do that if he wants to make the most of his game.
I asked Young if it ever occurred to him that showing frustration and moping around sent a self-harming message to his opponent, and he answered:
It occurred to me that maybe having - and demonstrating - such a low threshold for frustration was the sign of a deep-seated lack of confidence. I asked him about that, too, and he said:
Fair enough. The hardest thing for a prodigy like Young to come to grips with may be that for certain players, for certain reasons, the hill just keeps going up, past a few false crests where other players have come to rest, fully realized and fleshed out - for better or worse. For Young, the transition to the pro game will be a greater and more demanding one than it was for many other former juniors. He's showing signs of understanding that, which will be both a comfort and a challenge.
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