In Kyrgios' fight and fall lies the beauty of the game

This game is rough. This game doesn't care about reputations.

- Rohit Brijnath

This game doesn't respect age. This game isn't interested if this is your home court and these are your people. This game just keeps asking questions. Insistently.

Just like Jacob Fearnley does.

Fearnley, 23, is from Scotland and lives barely inside the top 100. Nick Kyrgios used to live inside his rivals' heads. Now he can't. Now he's a 29-year-old, could-have-been-something, who doesn't even have the energy for his usual theatrics. His abdomen injury is making him wince, so are Fearnley's 17 aces, and Kyrgios trudges out of his Open 6-7 (3-7), 3-6, 6-7 (2-7).

Hours earlier at court No. 17 at 5.30pm Melbourne time, Lord Nick holds court. He hits a smash with the handle of his racket and unrolls forehands with a flick of the wrist at practice. He does tricks better than he plays entire matches. "Nick, Nick, Nick", his faithful shout, for he hasn't been seen at this Open for two years. His cap is worn backwards, his body inked, a man whose charm - for some has been found in his unpredictability.

But Kyrgios has played only a single match on the ATP Tour in two years. He hits louder shots on social media than he does on court. He takes on Jannik Sinner but not between the lines. He is criticised by Andy Roddick for being a mere tennis influencer. In short, he's a player spoken of in the past tense.