Takeaways from Carlos Alcaraz's shock US Open loss: Even with on-court coaching, you still need to find your own solutions

NEW YORK—“Pressure is a privilege,” is Billie Jean King’s most famous quote. The players at the US Open read it as they walk into Arthur Ashe Stadium.

But King has another, not quite as famous piece of advice: “Champions adjust.” Carlos Alcaraz could have used that reminder as he headed into Ashe on Thursday night.

Alcaraz was presented with a sudden and surprising riddle called Botic Van de Zandschulp. Even the Dutchman’s name, and its pronunciation, was something of a mystery.

His game was even harder to figure. How was a 28-year-old, ranked 74th, with a 12-18 record on the year, who had been mired in a slump earlier in the season, outplaying the man who had just won Wimbledon and Roland Garros? How was he hitting bigger than Alcaraz, moving every bit as well as him, and seemingly anticipating his every thought and shot? How he was outfoxing the Spaniard in the cat-and-mouse points that he loves so much?

Alcaraz never found out. He tried to adjust. He chattered away with his coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero. He changed his return position. He used his drop shot. He came to net 21 times. He hit his ground strokes even harder. Twice he threatened to mount a comeback, but each time was turned away almost immediately. Over three sets, he could never find a way to play better than his opponent. He couldn’t win a set, or push one to a tiebreaker.

“I thought he was going to give me more free points,” a baffled Alcaraz said. “He didn’t make a lot of mistakes that I thought he was going to do. So I was, you know, [confused] a little bit. I didn’t know how to manage that, how to deal with it.

“I couldn’t increase my level.”

Coaxed by reporters, Alcaraz said he probably could have used more time off after the Olympics. But I also think he was ambushed by Van de Zandschulp. Typically, it’s first-round matches that top players fear the most. No one wants to go out in their opener, and once they’ve made it through that, they can relax a little. Alcaraz, who had some trouble in his first round against Li Tu, may have relaxed a little too much for his second match.

In his first service game, at 30-30, he tracked down a lob and tried a tweener. I said at the time, “Someone’s feeling confident tonight.” Alcaraz’s shot, as spectacular as it was, landed just wide, which left him break point down. Van de Zandschulp quickly capitalized. After half an hour, Alcaraz had lost the first set 6-1. He was smiling as he tried the tweener. He wasn’t smiling now.

A year ago in the Wimbledon final, Alcaraz lost the first set to Novak Djokovic, 6-1. But on that stage, against that opponent, he was ready for a slow start and a dogfight. He didn’t look ready when Van de Zandschulp did the same thing to him.

What does this upset tell us? I’d say two things.

For one, I think it says that even in the new era of on-court coaching, tennis is still an individual sport, where you have to find the solutions for yourself. A coach can give you all kinds of directives about where to stand and serve, but once a rally starts, he’s not in your ear anymore, and you have to make decisions on the fly, in the flow of a point. Ferrero seemed to understand that as this match went on. As his advice failed to work, his chatter gradually died away.

The second thing this match may tell us is that humans have returned to the top of the men’s game, after being absent for nearly 20 years. By humans, I mean champions who will throw in second-round losses at majors. Champions who won’t find the answer to a torrid opponent every time. Champions who won’t be able to “increase their level” in time to avoid an upset now and then.

Until 2003, the tour was ruled by humans. Even the most dominant players, the Samprases and Borgs and Lendls, suffered their share of shock defeats. Then the Big 3—the “mutants,” as Stan Wawrinka called them—came along and made it seem as if it were normal to win everything, all the time. Normal to make 23 straight Grand Slam semifinals, the way Federer did. Normal to go 112-3 at Roland Garros, the Nadal has. Normal to win every Slam and every Masters 1000 at least twice, the way Djokovic has.

Alcaraz has superhuman abilities as an athlete, but so far he’s a little more human as a competitor. That could change. He’s only 21, and he understands the challenge.

“I’m thinking right now that I’m not changing, and that’s the problem,” Alcaraz said. “I have to think about it, I have to learn about it.”

Alcaraz will learn to adjust. And even if he doesn’t do it with the crazy consistency of the Big 3, he’ll still be a champion.