One year ago, Taylor Fritz had a Grand Slam quarterfinal problem.
Four times he had reached the last eight of a major; four times he had lost. Notoriously hard on himself, the best American male tennis player of his generation did not wear that record lightly.
Twelve months on, Fritz returns to the U.S. Open occupying a different place in the sport’s hierarchy, looking to end America’s 22-year wait for a men’s Grand Slam champion.
After reaching the 2024 final to break his personal glass ceiling, Fritz last month backed up that result with a run to the Wimbledon semifinals. World No. 1 Jannik Sinner beat him last year in New York, and this year in southwest London, world No. 2 Carlos Alcaraz took him down. Everyone in men’s tennis knows the feeling, and Fritz’s progress over the past year means he will be the No. 4 seed this fortnight — the highest U.S. Open seeding for an American man since Andy Roddick in 2005.
“I’ve got to the point where it doesn’t feel like it’s such a big deal,” Fritz, 27, said during a news conference at Wimbledon.
“When you have that feeling, it allows you to play your best tennis in the situation and the moment.”
“Experience helps,” added Paul Annacone in a recent interview. Annacone, who worked with serial winners Pete Sampras and Roger Federer and is on Fritz’s team led by Michael Russell, emphasized how Fritz’s having been “to the rodeo once or twice before” means he knows what is required.
Fritz has never entered his home major as such a contender, despite a rough year featuring several injuries and some recent underwhelming results. A Cincinnati Open defeat to world No. 136 Terence Atmane followed a straight-sets Canadian Open loss against Ben Shelton, who is looking to usurp Fritz as the top U.S. player.
Striving to be the best he can be without putting suffocating pressure on himself, even during a run that falls below his standards, has been key to Fritz’s improvement.
Four years ago, he wrote a note to himself: “Nobody in the whole world is underachieving harder than you, you are so f—-ing good, but 40 in the world, get your f—ing s— together.” By his own admission, he sets himself extremely high standards and can be “a bit delusional,” a quality that peers and friends, such as fellow player Reilly Opelka, remember from his junior days.
“I would say he’s not delusional, I’d say he is very obsessed with trying to be as good as he can be,” said Annacone. “That focus is a huge asset if he maintains his balance, which he’s starting to get.
“Now he gets annoyed when he loses and he’s frustrated when we talk about it, but he can move on. That’s the change. When you’re not No. 1, tennis is a lot of getting your backside kicked for a while. So his obsessive, compulsive desire to win everything, to always win, to be better? It can burn you out.”
Fritz said during Wimbledon that in training, he’s still as hard on himself as ever, but has learned to stay calmer during actual matches. He credits girlfriend Morgan Riddle with helping him stay focused and improving his results.
Fritz’s game has developed along with his mindset during his rise to establish himself at the top of the sport. He has “graduated,” Annacone said, from relying on his huge serve. His backhand is rock-solid and his forehand is more devastating.
“He’s done a remarkable job of having a crystal clear idea of what makes him the player that he is and not straying from it,” Jim Courier, a former world No. 1 and now Tennis Channel analyst, said in a phone interview during Wimbledon.
“The most important thing is his clarity of shot selection. It’s when he is in an offensive position, whether it’s the forehand or a backhand, trusting that his shots are good enough. Because they are, he can hurt you with both sides. The forehands come in quicker, but the backhand is pretty lethal, too.”
Fritz has also further developed what was already one of the ATP Tour’s keenest tactical minds. His news conferences have become appointment viewing, as he thoughtfully breaks down strengths and weaknesses — his own, as well as those of his opponents. During the Wimbledon semifinal against Alcaraz, he hit a monstrous serve while holding set point in the fourth set. Alcaraz somehow returned it, then won the point, the set, and, with it, the match.
Fritz later blamed his attention to detail, saying he had tossed the ball an iota too far to his right. That meant he sliced it a little, so it curved through the air toward Alcaraz and gave him slightly more leeway to get it back.
Fritz “isn’t going to do something just because you tell him, you better be able to back it up,” Annacone said. His charge also shares another key characteristic with those two. “My number one trait that I look for is someone who’s an unconditional competitor,” Annacone said. “This kid competes, I would argue, better than anybody.”
But having established his ability to compete with the best, Fritz now has to beat them. Sinner was much too good in last year’s final, winning in straight sets, and Fritz has admitted to sometimes feeling powerless against Alcaraz. Last year’s loss to the Italian still encouraged him because Fritz thought he had reached the final without playing that well.
At Wimbledon, things were different.
“The way I played the first two sets today, there’s not much any opponent can do,” Fritz said after beating Karen Khachanov to earn the right to face Alcaraz.
Whether or not that’s “a bit delusional,” self-belief has gotten Fritz this far, and each time he plays Sinner or Alcaraz, he learns a bit more about how to beat them. For 2025, if the U.S. Open draw goes to form, it would be Alcaraz first in the semifinals, then Sinner for the trophy, again.
This year’s problem may be tougher to solve than last year’s, but it’s a far more preferable one to have.
(Top photo: Susan Mullane / ISI via Getty Images)