TV loves a tantrum, but we should stop indulging the boorish Wimbledon ‘bad boys’

Where is the dividing line between boorish behaviour and “entertainment” in sport? Do we cut sporting stars slack for what we wouldn’t tolerate among friends because it adds to the excitement of the occasion and makes great television?

Nick Kyrgios gave an extended display of petulance and occasional brilliance this week at Wimbledon. During a hard-fought match against Rafael Nadal – a man he once described as his “polar opposite” – Kyrgios served underhand twice, moaned about the length of time Nadal took before serving, spat on the ground, called the umpire useless and aimed a ball directly at his opponent’s chest. The Spanish player then lost his serve and the set, but came back to win.

In the press conference afterwards, 24-year-old Kyrgios was totally unrepentant, saying: “I’m a great tennis player … but I won’t train every day.” It emerged he had been drinking in the local pub until after 11pm the night before. When asked if he would apologise for slamming the ball directly at Nadal, he answered “never”. Nadal, when asked about Kyrgios, agreed he had talent, “when he decides to play”.

Earlier in the week, Aussie “bad boy”, 26-year-old Bernard Tomic, gave another exhibition of boorishness during his first-round match against Jo-Wilfried Tsonga of France, hardly bothering to return some balls, banging others into the net and generally behaving like an ass. Tomic, ranked 96th in the world (down from a career-high of 17) lost 6-2, 6-1, 6-4 in under an hour, the shortest championship match in 15 years. He was fined his appearance fee of £45,000, as his play “did not meet the required professional standard”, according to organisers. And of course Tomic was disrespectful to all the players who had to slog through qualifiers to get a place and won himself no friends among spectators who travelled long distances and paid high ticket-prices to attend.

Tomic has form. He failed to qualify for the Australian Open in 2018, telling reporters: “I just count money, that’s all I do. I count my millions.” He subsequently made a bizarre appearance in the Australian version of I’m a Celebrity, before storming out after three days. His father was once sentenced to eight months in jail for head-butting and breaking the nose of Tomic’s hitting partner, and Tomic has had numerous brushes with the police over driving offences; once receiving three fines in a single day.

Amazingly, other players were not happy about the latest fine. Sloane Stephens described it as “a slippery slope”. Tomic had already been fined £11,000 at a previous Wimbledon for “unsportsmanlike conduct”, but didn’t seem bothered, admitting in 2016 he’d “never loved tennis” and claiming that he’s built a career on making 50 per cent effort, amassing almost $6m (£4.8m) in the process. Stephens said that a fine would only have been justified if Tomic had lost all the sets to love. Tsonga wasn’t happy either, saying it undermined his victory: “It’s like … I just won because they said he didn’t play enough.”

Let’s face it, in sport, bad behaviour is routinely condoned. Serena Williams made such a fuss during the 2018 US Open finals – smashing her racket, calling the umpire a liar and a thief – that the actual winner burst into tears. Despite being penalised by the umpire for her behaviour, the famously bad-tempered John McEnroe later said she “had nothing to apologise for”.

Former players like Boris Becker fell short of describing Kyrgios’ behaviour as disgusting, employing the usual cliches about “flawed geniuses” etc. One critic said “he is proper box office”. The problem is that Kyrgios sells tickets and attracts huge armies of fans. Off the court he is charming and always has time for young people. On court, he is nasty and self-centred. In finding his manners repellent, am I falling into a trap? Perhaps sports fans see the showmanship as a fun and harmless part of camaraderie, but I just find it distracting and unnecessary.

And it’s not just tennis that accommodates boorishness. Earlier this week, American star Alex Morgan cheekily mimed drinking a cup of tea after scoring the winning goal for the US against the Lionesses in the World Cup semi-finals. The gesture was condemned on social media and by one England player who described it as “disrespectful”. US co-captain Megan Rapinoe, who has already fallen out with Trump over refusing to kneel for the anthem and saying she would refuse to go the White House if the US wins, was unrepentant: “Wah-wah-wah. I mean, it’s like, we’re at the World Cup – what do you want us to do? This is the biggest stage, the biggest moment.”

Dolt-like behaviour is permeating every aspect of society. In the European parliament this week, the musicians playing the EU’s anthem, Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, were treated to a display of rudeness by dozens of new arrivals from the UK. Lib Dem MEPs turned up in yellow T-shirts emblazoned with the message “Bollocks to Brexit” – like a band of silly freshers at rag week – while Nigel Farage’s motley band of Brexiteers (including Ann Widdecombe, who should know better) turned their backs during the music.

What kind of message does that send out to the world? That everyone in the UK is infected with the Brexit version of mad cow disease?

No wonder tennis fans are praying that well-mannered teenage sensation Cori Gauff will continue to dispatch older, more experienced players at Wimbledon. But it won’t be long before sponsors and broadcasters will be hoping for a tantrum – let’s admit it, that’s what brings in the ratings, sponsors and that all-important cash.