Harrison at the Brink

by Pete Bodo

Okay, so let me be the 879th pundit to weigh-in on the result that seemed to take everyone—whether he or she admits it or not—by surprise: 18-year-old Ryan Harrison's upset of 20-year old wunderkind Milos Raonic, the winner of one main tour title (San Jose) and runner-up at another (Memphis) so far in this new year. Raonic is already ranked No. 37 on the ATP tour; Harrison is No. 152.

All the details suggest that this was a mismatch, and would continue to be until Harrison adds another year or two of growth, training and experience to his resume. The matches Harrison has won at Indian Wells—all three of themvare his first ones of the year on the ATP stage. So how come he won?

Judging from what I saw, which was the entire third set, but none of the first two—my eight-year-old son having commandered the remote for his pre-bedtime comfort TV—there were two interrelated reasons. Not to take anything away from Harrison, but Raonic looked a little ragged, not unlike my own aforementioned kid when he's over-tired. The emerging Canadian star has played a lot of tennis since the Australian Open (where he played the same number of matches as the champ, Novak Djokovic).

Melbourne to Johannesburg, followed by San Jose and Memphis and then Davis Cup (in Mexico City, on clay, where Raonic won two singles matches without losing set) is a killer way to start the year, and you could see it in Raonic's game. Those bright-eyed and bushy-tailed dashes to the net that we saw in Australia were in scant evidence in the desert. Sure, Raonic is at an age when physical limitations are not just seen as mere inconveniences, but can actually be overcome. But fatigue comes in many different forms, and even if all of us come with three gas tanks (for physical, mental and emotional fuel), each of them has a capacity.

But I don't want to take anything away from Harrison. A player has no business wondering how the other guy is feeling once the first ball is hit; he has to assume he's feeling, if not great, then dangerously gnarly. Harrison observed the first commandment of champion-grade tennis, which is to go out and compete with all your heart and soul. Anything short of that and you may just as well be Ernests Gulbis, no matter how much power, touch, or inventive shotmaking you exhibit. To go out and compete the way Harrison did isn't as easy as it may sound, and isn't something you learn, like a kick serve. Much of it is innate (or not), although it can be nurtured and made more effective.

Count me among those who sees a valid comparison between Raonic and Pete Sampras, albeit in a way that has nothing to do with his technique or rally/volley tools, other than the serve. So far, the times I've watched him, Raonic has shown what I would describe as a realistic grasp of the principles of power tennis. He likes to cut to the chase. He likes to impose his game, whether it's that big serve or the probing, forcing groundstroke. He wants to force the action: I'm Milos Raonic, show me what you got . . .  He's not interested in screwing around, yet he goes about his business of winning quickly and efficiently in a leisurely, unhurried way. That's where the comparison with Sampras, for me, begins and ends.

Harrison is a very different critter indeed. He's all visible energy, effort and desire. The player he most reminds me of is young Jimmy Connors, who played with a degree of abandon and a lack of self-consciousness so striking that he raised the same question in my mind as Harrison did a few times yesterday: Is this guy trying too hard?

I mean, the idea of trying "too hard" goes against almost all of what we believe or know about success in tennis, yet at times, as Harrison struggled to close out the match (Raonic nearly fought back from two breaks down in the third), I found my inner coach hoping the kid would take a little off, want it a little less badly, which might make actually getting it a little more likely, because that's just how it works. This is a very tricky issue, because it's really more about being confident that you can—and will—win, as opposed to telling yourself that you'd better go all-out here, or you won't win. And it most decidedly isn't about sitting back and hoping the other guy will blow it.

Harrison at the brink acts a little as if the failure to win it here and now mandates that he not win it at all, even if he has demonstrated a great capacity for sloughing off such setbacks. And of course, he has reasons to feel anxious and over-eager, having lost that second-round heartbreaker at the last U.S. Open to Sergiy Stakhovsky after holding three match points (yesterday, he converted on his fourth). If Harrison finds himself in a similar position against his next opponent, Roger Federer, I'm less concerned that at he'll blow a forehand than blow up, period. Ka-Boom! Pop! No more Ryan Harrison. He sure was a good scout until he exploded from desire. . . The ballboys will be out with towels shortly to clean up.

Still. Harrison's way is certainly far, far better than playing in fear of making an error, or investing too much hope in his opponent's human frailty. You have to love the way Harrison (and this is true of Raonic as well) has no fear of pulling the trigger no matter what the scoreboard says. The rest of it, that mental and emotional modulation Harrison can use (and which Raonic seems to have) will come in time as the Ws pile up.

One other consideration that must have shaped the tone and tenor of this match is that Harrison had a point to prove while Raonic did not. Although Raonic is a significant 18 months older than Harrison (at the same age Harrison is now, Raonic was barely inside the Top 1000), he's stolen some of the thunder prodigies vie for as they progress through the ranks. Harrison knew full well that, should he get blown out by Raonic, 6-2, 6-3, his own stock would surely diminish in the eyes of some. Winning this match resurrects Harrison's street cred as a prodigy, what with all those youngsters (like Raonic, Grigor Dimitrov and Richard Berankis) suddenly taking strides.

All in all, this was a giant step for Harrison in a way that had nothing to do with the details of the match. He heard the call and he answered it, with confidence and a degree of competitive abandon that will serve him well as he carves out a career.