Krickstein Lost More Than a Match Against Connors in 1991 US Open

NEW YORK -- Temperatures are falling, the clouds are coming in, it's dark and rain is in the forecast. Nearly two weeks of good weather at the U.S. Open might be about to end. And you know what the means:

Connors-Krickstein.

Please, no. Enough already. I swear, a cloud appears and the networks send a flunky to the vault for a tape of that match from 19 years ago at the U.S. Open.

It is probably the most-watched tennis match of all time. It could go into syndication. Jimmy Connors, 39 years old and with the yellow racket, working the crowd and TV cameras, calling the chair ump an abortion and building energy through a stadium, a city, a country.

It was the day Connors became a beloved cult figure. Everyone remembers it so fondly (shown above on the video screen during a rain delay at last year's U.S. Open).

Did I say everyone? I wonder.

"Certainly he was a guy I looked up to and watched a lot on television," Aaron Krickstein, who was 24 at the time, told me the other day. "Before the match, we were friends, or whatever.

"Our agents were the same. I went to his house a few times. We were practice partners, played cards. We did a lot of fun stuff together."

And did that match put a strain on the friendship in some way?

"To be quite honest," Krickstein said, "since that match, I don't think we've ever spoken."

How do you take that match being on TV every year?

"I don't watch the match," he said. "Never have."

I know your first thought. Krickstein is a poor loser. But be honest, tennis players: America loved all those antics from Connors, but if you were standing on the other side of the net and your friend/mentor did that to you in a huge moment, how would you have felt?

To be clear: I take Krickstein's side in this. After talking with him, I'd say the pain might be gone from that match, but the scar is still there. And maybe the wound re-opened a little when I asked:

Didn't Connors show you up in that match with his behavior?

"No, I don't feel he showed me up, to be honest," Krickstein said. "Certainly a disheartening loss, to say the least, with how it went down. He didn't use the normal code of tennis etiquette, but that was Jimmy Connors. He'd do whatever it took to get the upper hand.

"Classic Connors. Certainly he wasn't respectful for me as a player, and I was supposedly a friend. But with Connors, you're talking about probably the greatest competitor of all time. He didn't care if he was playing his mother, to be honest. If I were mad at anybody, it would probably be the umpire. He was obviously intimidated."

Funny how a moment can be remembered so favorably in sports history. And then you think of the other guy.

"To be quite honest, since that match, I don't think we've ever spoken."
- Aaron Krickstein on his former friendship with Jimmy Connors Krickstein had served for the match, which was in the fourth round, at 5-3. Connors would win in the fifth-set tiebreaker.

Connors would take forever between points, not only to build up the crowd, but also to rest his aging legs. He mugged for the cameras and took on the chair umpire to pump up himself as well as the crowd. After the ump overruled a linejudge in the second-set tiebreaker, Connors yelled "You're a bum. You're a bum. I'm out here playing my butt off at 39 years old and you're doing that?"

Then Connors yelled about the ump being an abortion. And in the world of Connors, that's exactly when the crowd went nuts for him.

"I was 24," Krickstein said. "I was busting my butt, too."

Connors is still living off that moment. He was a great player before that match, but when he was an old guy beating a kid, that's when he became a sentimental favorite.

On Wednesday, Connors, now 58, was hitting on the practice courts here at Flushing Meadows, and when he left, he was swarmed for autographs.

"Seen any good players today?" he asked one woman.

"Just you," she said.

His knees buckled, and he smiled.

Krickstein, now 43, is director of tennis at St. Andrews Country Club in Boca Raton, Fla, where he lives with his wife and two kids. He has become an excellent golfer. And he's on the courts 20-25 hours a week teaching tennis.

Two weeks don't pass without someone asking about the Connors match. People say they were pulling for him that day.

He knows they're lying.

Krickstein plays some on the senior tour now, and at times has been introduced as the other guy in the Connors match. Truth is, he was a prodigy. He reached the top 10 at 17. And while he never got past the semis of a major, he was known for beating top 10 players and winning five-set matches.

I've left a wrong impression. Krickstein does not come off as bitter, but rather someone who once was angry about something that hurt him deeply, but now has moved on.

He analyzes the moment coolly, says this with almost a disconnect.

"It is interesting and cool to be a part of such a famous match," he said. "If I saw him right now, I wouldn't not shake hands or have a conversation. He got away with a lot in that match that he shouldn't have. So maybe that bothered me.

"But I can't say, 'He didn't show me respect,' because he didn't show a lot of people respect. I'm not looking for sympathy. I could have challenged the umpire."

Eventually, injuries added up on Krickstein. In his 30s, he wasn't playing, wasn't doing much at all. His Dad, who seemed to be suffering during that Connors match more than anyone, asked him what he was doing. He couldn't just be retired the rest of his life.

Krickstein ended up at St. Andrews.

He wonders what will come of next year, when the match has its 20th anniversary. A few years ago, someone wanted to get them together and have them talk about the match while watching a replay.

Krickstein was expected to come to Connors' house for that. He countered that Connors could come to his house.

"I never heard from anyone about it again," he said.

He laughed.

E-mail me at gregcouch09@aol.com. Follow me on Twitter @gregcouch