The US Open Final was Quick, Ugly, and Hopefully a Sign of Things to Come

Men's tennis was a different sport on Monday evening. Marin Čilić beat Kei Nishikori in less than two hours, with Nishikori breaking serve only once, and not until the second set. Čilić plays like an ox with impressively nimble footwork for an ox, and he overpowered Nishikori. The match was brief and brutal and the two men playing it, despite both being ranked in the world's top 20 before the tournament started, were practically anonymous. It was the first final without one of Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, or Murray since 2005.

The final was fascinating, if only for its novelty. Čilić's thwack-the-ball-like-you-hate-it game isn't nearly as entertaining as Federer's difficult artistry or Nadal's panicked worker bee routine, and Nishikori was a bystander yesterday. But as aesthetically pleasing as the big four can be to watch, they are also their own sort of boring. We know what they look like on the court and the strategies they employ against each other. We know about Rafa's Uncle Tony and Federer's superhuman fertility and Murray's self-effacing sense of humor. These guys have been beneath the microscope for so long, we're running out of things to discover about them.

The entirety of the US Open is there for you, if you want it. You can watch some Slovenian you haven't heard of dominate a Spaniard you think you might be confusing with a soccer player. On any given afternoon of the early rounds, there are hours of pretty good tennis being played on ESPN and the Tennis Channel. Most of us don't bother keeping up with it, because the stakes aren't the highest they could possibly be. No matter how impressive his shot-making or how fluid his movement, we assume the Slovenian doesn't have a prayer against the very best players. If he's doomed, why get invested?

Marin Čilić and Kei Nishikori played an unexciting final, but at least they proved that men's singles can still be a democracy, can still allow us to invest in two new players, can still tell us a few new stories. Čilić is yoked by a redemption narrative that doesn't quite fit. He was suspended last year for doping—go figure, he says the ban was unfair—and sees this title as the apotheosis of his comeback. He's a hero in his own mind. We're left to question what he is in ours. Nishikori is Japan's Andy Murray, with all the pressure that entails. He nearly pulled out of the Open because of a cyst on his right foot, which was removed in early August. Instead, he exhibited Herculean mettle in a pair of four-hour marathons against Milos Raonic and Stan Wawrinka. Then he disposed of Djokovic in the semifinal.

In his post-match interview, Čilić posited his victory as a sign that other second-tier tennis players are capable of winning major tournaments. Perhaps he's wrong, and the big four will go back to trading titles among themselves. But it's hard to argue with a guy holding a trophy. He's reminding us that there's a whole sport out there beyond Novak, Roger, Rafa, and Andy. We should periodically check in on that Slovenian playing on a minor court. He might yet have a prayer.