Racket smashers, b__l crashers
ZVEREV smashed his racket on the court, causing it to break into God knows how many million pieces, in a losing performance against South Korea’s Hyeon Chung in the third round of the 2018 Australian Open in Melbourne this week.
Understandably so, because the seeded German, 20, had been expected to win against Hyeon but that was not to be as the South Korean bageled Zverev, 6-0, in the fifth and final set to progress to the fourth round ( at this writing, Hyeon defeated his “idol” Noval Djokovic in straight sets to arrange a quarterfinal match with the much more unheralded American journeyman Tennys Sandgren, a winner in four sets against the one- dimensional Austrian Dominic Thiem).
This corner would like to give the German youngster the benefit of the doubt that he was not furiously, personally mad at his Asian opponent, but at himself for letting the match slip from his grasp.
Anyway, they all say that—Serena Williams, Andy Murray and, well, Djokovic, among the older top guns— and Nick Kyrgios and Jelena Ostapenko, among the younger, up-and-coming tennis players.
Their tons of fans would say “Amen” to their meltdowns on live television (Grand Slams, usually) and they would go on to win any or all of the Big Four tournaments (except the Australian Kyrgios, a bratty showboat if otherwise fine player).
Those who throw tantrums in full view of fans in Roland Garros or Wimbledon are sanctioned with modest fines that in no way would hurt them in the pocket or cause their entourage to be thrown outside Center Court.
In football, however, the penalties are much heavier.
Threaten a referee with physical harm and you and your coach would be ejected from wherever a game is being played and fined accordingly.
Tackle an opposing footballer with an apparent intent to crush his balls and you get thrown out of the match, the pitch and the stadium, penalized with a three-game suspension, depending on your successful feat to cause such footballer great pain or his untimely retirement from the beautiful game, or fined also accordingly.
Also in football, not all violations of the rules could be seen by the referee and the sport—the beautiful game—is one discipline where you can get away with murder.
The pitch could accommodate, maybe, 200 cars, and don’t expect the referee and two assistant referees (all three for top-level internationals and friendlies) and two linemen to see every shenanigan that is being committed by 22 players during a match.
In tennis, you have six arbiters, including the Hawk Eye (for challenges), but it would still be easy to vent your, okay, frustration at yourself by taking it on your racket.
If you’re in Zverev’s league, you need not worry about replacements because your big sponsor/ s would be more than glad (or obligated?) to send you more things to break into God knows how many million pieces faster than you could destroy them. For the likes of Sandgren, that would not be the case. In the Challenger tournaments that he competed in before this year’s Australian Open and beating Thiem, he wore T-shirts that Serena or Djokovic would probably use in wiping off dirt from their custom-made tennis shoes.