| To the hard-bitten professionals of international tennis, Paul Kilderry is an infuriating aberration; the court jester with sufficient talent to mock one-dimensional automatons, yet with little of the dedication to consistently capitalize. To his many mates, who include Pat Rafter, Kilderry represents a healthy and welcome departure from the norm. The common description of the powerful West Australian usually runs something like: great talent, pathetic work ethic. Ranked 339th in the world, Kilderry has recently slashed his singles ranking by 200 places after traipsing the Australian Unity Tour, shooting it out with a string of Australian hopefuls for a wildcard into the Australian Open in January. The Futures circuit is perhaps the last place to search for a man who once beat Rafter in �eight or nine consecutive matches, I can�t remember�, but Kilderry is there. If this is the last roll of the dice for the gifted 26-year-old, Kilderry does not betray any sense of panic. Tennis is his life, always has been. Probably always will be. �I�ll play until I want to play,� he said. �I�m not worried about what other people think or say. I�ll keep going until I stop enjoying it. I think I�ve always had the ability, but deep down inside I put so much pressure on myself and worried about it so much. I turned around and made it look as though I didn�t worry, But I was.� At 18, Kilderry was the No. 7 junior in the world, lost a Wimbledon junior semi to Thomas Enqvist, and boasted the pedigree to suggest he would quickly parlay his impressive credentials into senior achievement. �For a lot of reasons, I haven�t been able to do that,� Kilderry said. �I haven�t played much singles in three or four years now and I want to get my ranking back up. I haven�t given up, but I sort of lost my singles for awhile.� The question of dedication aside, Kilderry was sidelined with a crippling knee injury just as his doubles career was blossoming. But his passion for tennis never waned. When Kilderry was seconded to the Australian Davis Cup squad as hitting partner and general roustabout for the quarter-final against the US in July, Cup figureheads John Newcombe and Tony Roche hadn�t seen anything like it. Far from serving as a distraction, bubbly Kilderry was the mortar which bound the Australian effort and his performance at the post-tie party was hilarious. Financially secure, Kilderry�s competitiveness surfaces often enough to have him toiling away on the court. �I love tennis more than anything else, it�s my life, it�s been my whole life. But I don�t feel as though if someone took it away, I would miss it, that I couldn�t live without it. It�s just my character. In my whole career, I didn�t feel it was the most important thing. It never hurt me to lose the way it hurts Pat Rafter or Lleyton Hewitt.� �Growing up, all I wanted to do was make it on the circuit. After seven or eight years, I think I�ve made it on the circuit. When Pat was growing up, all he wanted was to be No. 1. We�ve both achieved our aims, but I never dreamed about being number one. I guess it�s the difference between us.� Rafter and Kilderry are close mates. The pair trained in Bermuda mid-year and stayed at Rafter�s house before playing doubles in a challenger on the island. Rafter said it was one of the funniest weeks of his life. Kilderry has that effect. Life is there to be enjoyed and far too short to fret over. And, as has been made clear a thousand times, it is not in Kilderry�s nature to worry about those matters he can�t control. But there is a serious side. Relatively speaking. �In my career, there have only been three or four times when it really stung to lose, whereas Pat and Lleyton it stings whenever they lose, no matter what,� he said. �I used to feel guilty about feeling that way, the fact that losing didn�t always hurt. Now I realize it�s just me. Don�t get me wrong, I always want to win, but I can remember only three or four times in my life when I woke up and felt, �Oh my God, I�m so hungry to win today.� With Pat and Lleyton, they have this unbelievable hunger. If I were to leave tennis now without any regrets, I would have to break into the top 100 in singles because that�s the place I think I should have been.� �I�ve made a good living out of tennis, but if I want to be able to give myself a pat on the back when it�s over, I want to get in the top 100.� |
| Last Laugh for Court Jester By Leo Schlink |