Fratboys in Flushing

Went to the US Open on Thursday to catch the early rounds, breaking with an 11-year tradition. Usually, my father and I catch the quarterfinal action on Tuesday or Wednesday of the second week, when the only matches worth watching are on Ashe and Armstrong (the two main courts). But this year, we decided to go a week early.

Great decision.

For those of you who live in the New York area and have never been to the US Open, you have to go. It's like being a Yankee fan and never rubbing shoulders with the Bleacher Creatures. There's nothing like walking around a complex the size of the Smithsonian with thousands of other fans and seeing the best tennis players in the world compete ($13 cocktails notwithstanding).

And if you've never been to the early rounds, you have to go. The sheer glut of tennis means that major matches will be played on the outer courts, allowing you to see some of the best players from 10 feet away. And there are always compelling storylines. Like the apotheosis of J-Dub.

Dad and I got to the grounds around 11 AM, and we figured we'd catch a side court match before heading to Ashe. So we randomly picked Court 11, and we randomly sat near the middle of the small bleachers there. We quickly realized that we'd stumbled into a frat party.

A dozen or so guys in their 20s were sitting there, some with Heinikens in hand, screaming wildly for the 276th-ranked player in the world, Jesse Witten. The qualifier from the University of Kentucky was playing Maximo Gonzalez from Argentina in the second round, but it felt more like an NCAA dual meet in Lexington. Every Witten winner led to bellows from the group, usually in the form of "J-DUUUUUBBB!!!" They got so loud that an Open official actually walked over and talked with them. That kept them quiet -- for about five minutes.

It was clear that J-Dub -- though somewhat overmatched in skill -- was feeding off his cheering section. But when he lost the first set in the tiebreak, Dad and I headed off, figuring he was bound for a straight-sets loss.

Instead, we returned almost two hours later to find Witten up two sets to one and the crowd in borderline delirium. The J-Dubs had been joined by hundreds of fellow fans rooting for the underdog American and were leading the packed bleachers in chants and cheers. When Witten broke to take a 4-2 lead, they howled with delight, and when he finally won they went bonkers.

I'd seen tennis players (read: James Blake) buoyed by the crowd at the Open before. But this was the first I've watched a player overcome an obvious skill disadvantage and simply ride his adrenaline and the encouragement of his friends. And Witten knew it -- he tossed his racket to his cheering section as he walked off the court.

It could only happen in the early rounds, on a court where every cheer could be heard and every small group of friends recognized. And it was a special thing to see.

Many of you may know the end of Witten's story, his gutsy four-set loss to No. 4 Novak Djokovic in the third round. That match was played on Armstrong, and despite the overwhelming support for Witten from the crowd, he probably couldn't single out the "J-Dubs" that came from his biggest supporters. After this tournament, he'll probably go back to playing Challenger events -- the tennis equivalent of Triple A. But he earned Djokovic's respect, and he earned the undying support of the crowd.

I saw a lot of great things during my early-round day at the Open, including 17-year old Melanie Oudin's upset of No. 4 Elena Dementieva and the subsequent blasting of The Beatles' "I Saw Her Standing There" (I hope you all get the connection). But nothing stands out like the action on Court 11, and nothing rings in my ears like "J-DUUUBBBBBB!!!!"