There’s much more to Nick Kyrgios than showboating and insolence

Even before he smashed his first ball in anger, dropped his first nonchalant f-bomb or faux-apologetically discussed personal matters with an opponent, Nick Kyrgios was making waves in the new season. This time, the ruckus came in the form of a preview picture of his proposed outfit at the first slam of the year.

In this picture, Kyrgios wore a sleeveless tank top better suited for Maria Sharapova’s closet and complimented it with a pair of the most audacious neon green basketball sleeves. Immediately, tennis social media exploded in a splatter of eye rolls and manic laughter. It was perfect. He who acts like a clown should dress like one, too. Above all, it was a reminder of the mad new chapter in the saga of Nick Kyrgios that was about to unfold in the new year.

But if anyone was expecting Kyrgios’ return to his home country to be littered with bad behaviour and a judging audience, he is proving them wrong so far. For one, in the end, Kyrgios exercised solid judgement and chose only to don the solitary tank top. It was one stage in a series of baffling good decisions in recent weeks. In Asia during the International Premier Tennis League, his thought process also appeared bizarrely functional as he navigated his way to a small PR boom, amicably interacting with his team-mate Stan Wawrinka on one side while remaining inseparable from Andy Murray on the other.

At the turn of the season, the good decisions continue as he delivered Australia its first Hopman Cup in 32 years, teaming with the bubbly Australian Daria Gavrilova and utilising her bright charm to lure fans back to the dark side.

Melbourne has been no different. After cruising through his first round, he arrived on Wednesday against the potentially tricky Pablo Cuevas. Face to face with the threat that his Argentine opponent posed, he simply laughed. For a set and a half, the Australian was king of the world. He was calm and vacant, and in his emotional vacancy he was technical perfection. There were tweeners and there were trick shots, and it was a glorious exhibition of his overflowing talent.

But the relevant parts of Kyrgios’ 6-4 7-5 7-6 victory came when the hype died down and the adrenaline evaporated. As Cuevas fulfilled his promise to make life difficult and the Australian came back to earth, the match arrived at a pivotal intersection towards the end of a sluggish second set.

There is a tendency for people to compare the Australian to the showboaters who do it best. In this match alone, the commentators made numerous references to Gael Monfils - the man famous for flinging himself around tennis courts and seriously injuring himself in the name of entertainment. When the pressure rises, Monfils and his cronies so often remain unbothered. They continue to clown, to make a mockery of themselves and, ultimately, to lose.

But Nick Kyrgios appears to be in the process of permanently separating himself from that kind of player. Beyond the showboating and the unnecessary eruptions of rage is someone who clearly envisions himself as a winner. And so when circumstances required him to roll up his sleeves and grind, he happily obliged. Where the thoughtless brilliance had been before, he flicked on his brain and began to problem solve. He engaged the clay-courter in rallies, he played percentages and constructed points with his backhand, waiting for the right shot to kill with his favoured forehand. By the time the final tie-break came around, the silence that allowed every thud off his strings to reverberate around the stadium was replaced by his own long, guttural groan. Visibly, audibly and factually, the effort was plain to see.

After his match, Kyrgios was confronted about the anger he displayed before he found his fight. In the previous year, the mere hint of criticism would create a hostile environment. He would roll his eyes, intentionally turn away from the querying journalist and endeavour to demonstrate his loathing of both the question and the peasants before him. This time around, he nodded vigorously and responded by giving himself a lecture before the world.

“Yeah, it's probably not the best thing playing angry,” he said. “It does expend a lot of energy. In best-of-five tennis, you want to try to not use that much. You want to keep it all in the tank if you get that far.”

Is this a new Nick Kyrgios? Absolutely not. The year is young and there will surely come a time when he’ll dust off those fluorescent green sleeves, throw them on and create bloody havoc for the ATP and his PR team. Indeed, this tournament itself is still mere days old. Kyrgios’ next round against Tomas Berdych will provide far more concrete answers about the state of his game and his brain. But it’s simply important to remember that Nick Kyrgios is a layered character and competitor, and however this next chapter turns out, nobody will know until it’s written for the world to read.