American Male Major Title Drought Isn't Taylor Fritz's Burden to Carry

I possess a few thoughts about that comments delivered by the sports network broadcaster Chris Fowler after the Serbian champion's win over Taylor Fritz in the US Open quarter-finals. Look – Fritz is American, Fowler is American – and sports often lend themselves to patriotic sentiment. A little bit of letdown would have been appropriate. Rather, he brought up the ongoing drought of US male players at grand slam tournaments: none of them had lifted a title since Andy Roddick in 2003, and he had been the last one standing in the tournament.

Everyone love a narrative, myself included. But really. Suppose Fritz had beaten the legend for the initial occasion, force of nature Carlos Alcaraz was looming in the following match, whom Fritz has never defeated in an competitive encounter. And if he’d somehow gotten past that, it would have been title holder the Italian, versus him the American had lost 10 of the previous eleven sets. The two young stars had also split the last seven grand slams (and the Spaniard went on to defeat a tired Djokovic in the next round). He said in post-match interviews following his defeat that he actually liked his path, because it offered the chance to defeat the three best competitors in the sport in succession. Fritz is more than justified to aim for the achievement; an athlete is meant to have faith in themselves. But going into that Djokovic quarter-final who else in their right mind had the lack of US winners on the brain?

The American, 28, is ranked number four in the global rankings entering this week’s ATP World Tour Finals and has won his previous six matches over No 3 Alexander Zverev with growing comfort. Presumably he might take that spot for himself in the future. But evidently that at present, that’s as high as he can climb: Sinner and Alcaraz lie a vast gap of ranking points away. Fritz’s top-class delivery and concussive power on both front side and backhand are more than adequate to dispose of most opponents on the professional circuit. Against the select few once-in-a-lifetime players, though, he is frequently overmatched. The last several seasons has seen the curious rise of lanky, towering athletes who can nevertheless move around with the alarming speed and grace of much shorter players. Fritz is six-foot-five and appears that way. His movement is rigid, as if he’s still getting used to his legs. So he’ll rarely win a rally that the other player was dictating, and hitting a soft shot against him is typically a safe bet. That acts as a pretty severe limitation on his upside.

The American has made a number of significant, unexpected advancements over the years. At the beginning of the decade, he was circling the bottom of the world's best thirty. Two years after, he was approaching the top 10. The previous season, he unexpectedly surged up to No 4 – and maintained the spot. But the subsequent step, competing against and defeating all-time-greats like Alcaraz, the Italian, and even a aging Serbian, is the toughest of all. What could Fowler have been thinking? That Fritz, in 2025, was a legitimate contender to beat them all back-to-back? That it was appropriate commenting on the ongoing drought of US male players lifting major titles when Fritz had exited the US Open in the quarter-finals? The desperation is simply excessive and the appreciation for the difficulty of the task too little.

The American's play in that exact last eight match should have been enough of an sign. Djokovic won in four sets, a victory that only felt tenuous for brief periods towards the conclusion, when the American had saved a couple championship opportunities and had a chance to hold for 5-5. The duo looked well-balanced during the exchanges, with Fritz earning numerous chances to break. But Djokovic rescued break point after break point, prolonging the run to the brink of frustration. When he finally did convert a single of the chances at 5-5 in the middle stanza, he immediately produced a terrible service game to lose his own serve again; the Serbian had lulled him into a battle secondary to the real battle and forced him to use excessive effort to win it. Facing set points in the final game, Fritz’s first serve sailed to heaven. He prolonged the contest two times on his second serve, but ultimately double-faulted. It was not a collapse, in my opinion, only a result of needing to hit an excessive number of second serves.

The contest was fairly compelling proof that the American is insufficiently skilled to defeat any version of the Serbian, who was defeated by the Spaniard in the following match and did not particularly seem like he thought he could triumph. This is absolutely fine – the Serbian is the best player ever, and may not be at the peak of his physical powers now, but has developed sufficient experience and tactical know-how to make up for a significant portion of the decline. The issue is those who were anticipating Fritz to prevail, and pressuring him to do so, when he was yet to accomplished anything that suggested he could.

The American is an valuable contributor to the tour nonetheless. He’s a calm, thoughtful voice in press conferences, more so than virtually anyone on the men's tour except for Daniil Medvedev, prepared to not just express his emotions or the tactic he believed determined a contest, 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 seems unjust. (Now that the fellow American is rubbing shoulders with him in the standings, perhaps they can share that burden.)

“I would likely dwell on it indefinitely if I fail to accomplish it,” the American told an interviewer in June of winning a major. I hope he realizes that he’s not a failure if he doesn’t fulfill that objective, that overcoming Alcaraz and Sinner’s young, terrifying reign is in fact extremely improbable for all other players. {