American Men's Grand Slam Dry Spell Isn't Fritz's Burden to Carry

I possess some opinions about that remarks made by the sports network commentator Chris Fowler after the Serbian champion's victory over Taylor Fritz in the US Open last eight. Consider – the athlete represents the United States, the commentator is from the US – and sports frequently lend themselves to nationalism. Some letdown was understandable. Rather, he invoked the ongoing drought of US male players at the majors: not one of them had lifted a title since the last American champion in 2003, and Fritz had been the final representative in the tournament.

We all enjoy a storyline, myself included. But come on. Suppose Fritz defeated Djokovic for the initial occasion, phenomenal talent Carlos Alcaraz was waiting in the following match, whom Fritz has never defeated in an competitive encounter. And if he’d somehow survived that, it would have been defending champion Jannik Sinner, against whom the American had dropped 10 of the last 11 sets. Alcaraz and Sinner had also split the previous seven major titles (and Alcaraz proceeded to defeat a tired Djokovic in the next round). He stated in post-match interviews after the loss that he in fact liked his draw, because it presented the chance to beat the three best players in the world in succession. He is well within his right to aspire to the accomplishment; an athlete is supposed to believe in themselves. But going into that Serbian last eight match who else in their right mind had the drought of American champions on the brain?

The American, twenty-eight, is ranked fourth in the global rankings entering the upcoming ATP World Tour Finals and has won his previous six matches over third-ranked the German with increasing ease. Presumably he might take that spot for himself in the coming years. But evidently that at present, that’s as high as he can climb: Sinner and Alcaraz sit a vast gap of ranking points away. His elite delivery and concussive strength on each forehand and reverse side are sufficiently adequate to dispose of the majority of rivals on the professional circuit. Against the handful of once-in-a-lifetime players, though, he is frequently overmatched. The last several seasons has seen the curious emergence of lanky, towering players who can nonetheless cover the court with the alarming quickness and grace of smaller men. He is six-foot-five and looks it. His footwork is stiff, as if he’s still getting used to his legs. So he seldom win a rally that the other player was controlling, and hitting a soft shot against him is usually a safe bet. That serves as a quite harsh limitation on his potential.

Fritz has achieved a number of significant, unexpected advancements throughout his career. At the beginning of the ten-year period, he was circling the bottom of the world's best thirty. 24 months later, he was approaching the elite ten. Last year, he unexpectedly exploded to fourth place – and maintained the spot. But the subsequent step, mixing it up with and defeating all-time-greats like Alcaraz, the Italian, and including a declining Serbian, is the toughest of all. What was the commentator have been thinking? That the American, in 2025, was a legitimate contender to defeat them all back-to-back? That it was worth commenting on the continuing drought of American men lifting grand slams when Fritz had exited the US Open in the quarter-finals? The desperation is just too much and the respect for the difficulty of the task insufficient.

Fritz’s performance in that exact quarter-final ought to have been enough of an sign. The Serbian triumphed in four sets, a victory that only felt uncertain for moments towards the conclusion, when Fritz had saved a few championship opportunities and had a opportunity to hold for 5-5. The pair appeared evenly matched during the exchanges, with Fritz creating plenty of opportunities to win the opponent's serve. But the champion rescued service break opportunity after service break opportunity, prolonging the run to the brink of agony. When he eventually did convert one of the chances at 5-5 in the second set, he immediately played a terrible game to drop serve again; the Serbian had drawn him into a battle peripheral to the real battle and compelled him to expend far too much effort to win it. Down match points in the final game, Fritz’s primary delivery floated to the sky. He prolonged the match two times on his backup delivery, but ultimately committed two errors. It was not a choke, in my opinion, just a consequence of needing to hit too many second serves.

The contest was fairly compelling proof that the American is not good enough to defeat any form of the Serbian, who lost to Alcaraz in the next round and never particularly appeared like he believed he could win. This is absolutely fine – the Serbian is the greatest of all time, and might not be at the height of his athletic abilities now, but has developed enough experience and strategic intelligence to compensate for quite a bit of the drop-off. The problem is those who were expecting the American to win, and putting pressure on him to achieve that, when he was had not accomplished anything that suggested he would.

The American is an valuable contributor to the circuit regardless. He’s a calm, reflective voice in press conferences, exceeding virtually everyone on the men's tour except for Daniil Medvedev, willing to not just express his emotions or the tactic he believed determined a contest, but explain it. That he should bear the brunt of the blame for America not spawn a male major champion since Andy Roddick seems unfair. (Now that Ben Shelton is rubbing shoulders with him in the standings, maybe they can divide that load.)

“I’d probably dwell on it indefinitely if I don’t accomplish it,” Fritz told an interviewer in the summer of winning a major. I hope he realizes that he’s not unsuccessful if he does not fulfill that goal, that breaking through the Spanish and Italian's young, terrifying reign is in fact extremely improbable for everybody else. {