US Men's Major Title Drought Isn't Fritz's Burden to Carry

I have a few thoughts regarding the remarks made by ESPN commentator a well-known announcer following the Serbian champion's victory over the American player in the US Open quarter-finals. Look – the athlete represents American, Fowler is American – and athletic competitions often encourage nationalism. A little bit of disappointment was appropriate. Instead, he brought up the continued absence of US male players at the majors: not one of them has won a trophy since the last American champion in 2003, and Fritz had been the last one standing in the tournament.

We all enjoy a narrative, myself included. But really. Suppose the American defeated Djokovic for the first time, force of nature the Spanish star was waiting in the following match, whom he has never defeated in an competitive encounter. And had he somehow gotten past that, it would have been defending champion the Italian, versus him the American had lost 10 of the last 11 sets. The two young stars had also divided the previous seven grand slams (and the Spaniard proceeded to defeat a fatigued Djokovic in the next round). Fritz said in press following his defeat that he actually preferred his path, because it presented the opportunity to beat the three best competitors in the sport back-to-back. He is well justified to aspire to the accomplishment; an athlete is meant to believe in themselves. But going into that Serbian last eight match what other person in their right mind had the lack of American champions on the brain?

The American, twenty-eight, is placed number four in the global rankings entering this week’s ATP World Tour Finals and has won his last six matches over third-ranked Alexander Zverev with increasing ease. Presumably he might claim that position for himself in the future. But evidently that right now, that is as far as he can climb: The Italian and Spaniard sit a chasm of ranking points away. His elite delivery and concussive power on both front side and backhand are sufficiently adequate to defeat most rivals on the professional circuit. Against the select few once-in-a-lifetime players, though, he is often overmatched. The last several seasons has seen the interesting rise of tall, gangly players who can nevertheless move around with the surprising quickness and fluidity of much shorter players. Fritz is 6ft 5ins and looks it. His movement is stiff, as if he hasn't fully adapted to his limbs. So he seldom win a rally that the other player was controlling, and hitting a soft shot versus him is usually a safe bet. That serves as a pretty harsh limitation on his upside.

Fritz has achieved a number of significant, improbable advancements throughout his career. Early on of the decade, he was hovering around the lower end of the top 30. 24 months after, he was approaching the top 10. The previous season, he unexpectedly exploded to fourth place – and maintained the spot. But the subsequent step, mixing it up with and defeating all-time-greats like the young Spaniard, the Italian, and including a aging 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 mentioning the ongoing slump of US male players lifting grand slams when Fritz had departed the US Open in the quarter-finals? The desperation is just too much and the respect for the difficulty of the challenge too little.

Fritz’s play in that very quarter-final should have been sufficient of an indication. The Serbian won in four rounds, a victory that only felt tenuous for brief periods towards the very end, when the American had survived a few match points and had a opportunity to maintain serve for 5-5. The duo looked well-balanced during the exchanges, with the American creating numerous chances to break. But the champion saved break point after service break opportunity, prolonging the streak to the brink of agony. When Fritz eventually did claim a single of the chances at 5-5 in the second set, he immediately played a terrible service game to lose his own serve again; the Serbian had drawn him into a skirmish secondary to the real battle and compelled him to expend excessive energy to win it. Facing set points in the final game, his first serve sailed to the sky. He extended the match two times on his backup delivery, but finally double-faulted. It was not a collapse, I didn’t think, only a consequence of having to hit too many second serves.

The match was fairly ironclad evidence that Fritz is not good enough to defeat any version of Djokovic, that was defeated by Alcaraz in the next round and did not especially seem like he thought he could win. This is absolutely acceptable – Djokovic is the best player ever, and might not be at the height of his physical powers anymore, but has acquired enough knowledge and tactical know-how to compensate for a significant portion of the drop-off. The issue is those who were expecting Fritz to win, and pressuring him to achieve that, when he was had not done anything that suggested he could.

Fritz is an valuable contributor to the circuit nonetheless. He’s a calm, reflective voice in media sessions, exceeding almost everyone on the men's tour except for the Russian star, willing to not just say his emotions or the strategy he believed decided a match, but clarify it. That he should bear the brunt of the responsibility for the United States failing to spawn a male major champion since the last American titlist feels unjust. (Since Ben Shelton is rubbing shoulders with him in the rankings, perhaps they can share that burden.)

“I’d probably dwell on it forever if I fail to do it,” the American told an interviewer in the summer of winning a grand slam. I hope he realizes that he’s not unsuccessful if he does not fulfill that objective, that overcoming the Spanish and Italian's dominant, formidable empire is actually highly unlikely for everybody else. {