TENNIS INSIDE OUT
Tim SmyczekTommy Paul

Winnetka 2018 — A Tale of Two Tommys

Val and J.D.

Nielsen Pro Tennis Championships Tommy Paul 2018

Most tennis fans think “Manic Monday” when the second week of Wimbledon arrives, but for those of us in the Chicago area in the U.S., that second week means it’s challenger tennis time again up in northwest suburban Winnetka. This year JD and I absolutely had to be at the opening night match, between Wisconsin boy Tim Smyczek and–you know if you follow our Tennis Inside Out Instagram–our favorite dudebro, Tommy Paul.

The Nielsen Men’s Pro Tennis Championship, as the event is officially called, is a well-run event that often boasts a full house of fans for the sessions that run throughout the week. A lot of posh locals turn up for the prime seating section every evening, and this year’s collection of sponsors features a Lexus dealer who is torturing the less-wealthy attendees by exhibiting a gorgeous silver LC Hybrid, priced at a mere $105,000. I’ll take two.

 

Those who follow challenger tennis will usually recognize many of the names in the draw that appear at Winnetka each year, but even those who stick to more marquee events on the pro tour will typically know at least a few of the top guys who turn up. Past winners include Sam Querrey and Jack Sock, while Kevin Anderson–who is currently Across the Pond getting ready to play Federer in the quarterfinals at Wimby–was a Winnetka finalist in 2007.

Players we here at Tennis Inside Out have had the pleasure of seeing in recent years include the aforementioned Tim Smyczek (pictured above), his fellow Americans Denis Kudla, Frances Tiafoe, Ryan Harrison, and Mackenzie McDonald–who got to R16 at this year’s Wimby and took a set off Raonic–plus Aussie Thanasi Kokkinakis; Canadian Frank Dancevic; Slovenian Blaz Kavcic; and German Peter Gojowczyk–who recently made the final of this year’s Geneva Open by beating Karlovic, Ferrer, Seppi, and Fognini.
 

So here we were, in the 93°F heat, ready for what we hoped would be an incredible first-round match between Smyczek and Paul, or as we like to call them, Smee and Tommy boy (Haas is still the Great and Original Tommy). And yes, that is Smee once again hilariously tying his shorts up at net, just as we documented at this very event, four years ago. Can tying your shorts last-minute really be a superstitious thing, or is he just always that disorganized in getting himself dressed?
 

 

As you can see in the photo above, #tommysmoustache does indeed deserve its own hashtag. It strikes us as a little bit “sleazy guy in 80s buddy cop movie” and a little bit intentionally ironic. I want to hate it, but somehow it seems to totally suit him, and…well…make of that what you will.

Unfortunately for us unwilling mustache fans, the match did not get off to a stellar start for Tommy. Smee came out swinging, with an incredible pace and depth that had Tommy scrambling and on the defense at every turn. It quickly felt like the cruelest of draws for Tommy. After all, Smyczek hit a career high of #68 a few years back, and despite his inconsistent results, still seems too good to be toiling at the challenger level. (Update: Turns out Smee was supposed to be at Wimby last week, but…)
 


 
American tennis is pretty much known for the standard formula of Big Serve / Big Forehand, and while that can clearly be a winning combo, it had been a refreshing discovery a couple years ago that up-and-comer Tommy Paul (who turned 21 in May) had this more loose, creative, and nuanced game.
 

That’s why it was such a surprise to see him trying to crush every shot as he was made to run back-and-forth over and over by Smyczek’s relentlessly speedy rallies. To make life even more difficult, Tommy served a staggering amount of balls right into the net. It may have simply been a timing issue, but it also seemed that perhaps the ball toss was too low, dropping down too soon before Tommy’s incredibly graceful service motion was fully launched.
 

 
Often it seems the crowd atmosphere can make or break a player, and Winnetka can often be slow to warm up. No one wants to be the first nerd to clap loudly and shout out a dude’s name, but usually once a few brave souls start, more peeps feel comfortable joining in. On this night, the mood was a rather terrible stunned silence, but as Tommy started issuing a few “Come on!” urges to himself, he inspired some in the crowd to join in.

Finally there were some hints of the Tommy game I had begun to think I hallucinated. He stopped aiming for the back fence with his shots, and worked his way up to the net a few times for some sharp volleys. The double faults continued to plague him, but when he couldn’t save his own service games, he started going after Smee’s.
 


 
Once Tommy’s level elevated, Smee’s started to falter. His changes in pace, capped off with speedy shots down the line, were suddenly being absorbed and countered and twisted by Tommy. Smee caught a bit of the double-fault bug himself, and the second set became a see-saw of breaks.
 

 
Tommy finally got a hold for 6-5, and Smee got them to the tiebreak, where the roller-coaster continued. Tommy raced out to a 4-0 lead, but then the demons crept back in and Smee won the next 6 points. Things were looking dire for Tommy Paul, and he was on the brink of being out of the tournament.
 


 
Sure, maybe Tommy was in the zone and didn’t hear that little plaintive cry from the crowd, but he sure played like he didn’t want to let her down. The extended rally took every trick in the book Tommy had, including some skidding, contortionist moves to get balls back that seemed just out of his reach. He saved three match points total in the TB, and launched quickly into the third set.
 

Tommy was definitely feeling his game more, now, and the array of shots coming back at Smee alternated between high, arcing balls that spun down to the line and flatter shots that seemed to barely clear the net. Smee really began to lose his way after failing to close the match out in two sets, and Tommy raced to a double break lead in the blink of an eye, 3-0.
 


 
The audience really didn’t know what to do with this match. They had urged Tommy on and cheered each winner as he worked his way back in. When the rallies started getting longer, and more intense, they got just as intense, spinning their heads back and forth to follow the ball, leaping to their feet in excitement to see where a crazy lob was going to land.

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But when Smee started crumbling and throwing in fairly dismal games, things got quiet again–a silence like when you confess to your BFF that you’ve done something totally stupid and possibly life-changing and there’s that hanging, thick void of sound that reveals that they are trying desperately to think up a polite way to say You are totally fucking. up. everything.

Of course there was that angry guy behind us, though, who was quite happy to give his “Expert” opinion on every missed ball. Luckily it seemed he was only audible to us and not the players on court.
 

Speaking of Angry Guys, if I ever win the multi-million dollar lottery, I will seriously look into getting HawkEye for challenger events, likely saving all current and future players and umpires thousands of dollars in therapy bills.

At this event there were only three linespeople, so lines were often called by looking through the net to the other side. And yes, there are usually some dubious calls. This means a lot of looking to the umpire for overrules–that rarely happen–or even to each other for confirmation. Smee was feeling more of the Line Call Angst as the match progressed, a few times pausing in play to hang over the net and lament to the ump about ball marks.
 


 
Considering the way that Tommy had turned the match around, the sudden massage on his arm seemed to come out of nowhere. But thinking about the way the young American had been flinging his body into various pretzel shapes all over the court to make points, it really wasn’t all that surprising.

In the next few games, some of those contortions ended with Tommy’s feet sticking sharply on the court and jarring his foot or ankle. He didn’t seem too affected in the resulting play–until the time came to serve it out.
 


 
It was kind of incredible, watching Tommy land serves with only the use of his upper body. When he then had to move into the rally, he exhaled out sharp puffs of air, the early signs of playing through pain that later turned into elongated grunts of agony.
 

Now the crowd really didn’t know what to do. Smee sensed blood in the water, and tried moving Tommy back and forth across the court. Tommy desperately tried to sneak out the hold and win the match. He saved one break point, but couldn’t fend off the next.

In the next game, he fought through five points somehow to get to a match point, but Smee held for 4-5. The situation seemed quite desperate now for Tommy.
 


 
All the best crazy players, usually Frenchies, drink a Coca-Cola for that old school shot of caffeine and sugar to keep you going. Heck with those fancy sports drinks.

The trainer came out again for Tommy, which amounted to just a serious chat that looked like “Hey, kiddo, you’re S.O.L., there’s nothing I can do.” Tommy sat there glumly, and we wondered how on earth he would last through the extra games it would take for Smee to get the victory.

Tommy had other plans. As he once again tried to arm his serves in, his legs trembled and wrenched beneath him, and it became clear he was cramping terribly. The crowd shifted to the edge of their seats, totally invested now, screaming along with Tommy on every shot he painfully swung onto the court. He even threw in a few underhanded serves, one successful, the rest not.

He battled to two match points, then they slipped away. Tommy realized he was going to have to serve as close to his real form as he could stand if he had any chance of winning this. When his third match point finally, blessedly ended in victory, he crumpled into a heap with a pained cry.

Winnetka 2018 Tommy Paul cramping collapse after match point injury
 
Game. Set. Match. Tommy Paul. 1-6, 7-6(7), 6-4.

The Winnetka crowd didn’t know what had hit them. As the trainer and other staff ran over to help Tommy, the umpire announced the final score. No one knew whether to clap or be worried, as the winner was still sprawled at the end of the court. Eventually Smee ran across, leaned over his prone opponent, and kindly congratulated him.

The umpire gave everyone the equivalent of the “move along, nothing to see here” speech, and said the doubles would be on as soon as they scraped Tommy off the court. Actually, he was far more congenial than that, and everyone felt a lot better when Tommy got up into a chair they’d brought out for him and managed a bit of a bemused smile.

Eventually our, yes, now even MORE favorite dudebro, Tommy was helped off court, with hopefully enough time to get his body back in order for his match on Wednesday. We here at Tennis Inside Out are grateful to the Tomster for taking what looked like a total beatdown and turning it into an impressive battle with heaps of drama, a little bit of absurdity, and an appealing amount of heart.

Bravo, Tommy, Bravo.

So, here endeth our story, and as we like to say around here, get thee to a challenger! Support your local events, help these guys earn a living, and cheer them on to bigger and even better things.

Thanks for reading! RT and share on your fave social media if you enjoyed, we love earning new fans!

Want to hear more fun stories about challenger events? Check out Val and Courtney’s NSFW podcast The Night Session, episode 3!


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