When Nick Kyrgios crashed out of the Miami Open in the fourth round overnight, strapping holding his right knee together but his emotions less secure, he left his familiar impression, the magician/villain du jour of tennis. There surely will not be a better tweener this year than the one he put on Borna Coric before losing in three sets. But that is Kyrgios: unfathomable in every way.
The mercurial Australian might not be aware of it, but Suzanne Lenglen, a rebel in silk skirts and garters (but no corset), shares a bond with him that stretches across a hundred years of their sport – although she did not strop as often, by all accounts.
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