It is a little after 3:30pm on a lazy summer day and Rafael Nadal, he of so many grand slam wins it's long ago became very hard to keep track of them all, and Denis Shapovalov, who is likely to win a few of his own in the future, are on centre stage.
It's high-quality tennis, worthy of the two stars, and of course they were on Rod Laver Arena and of course Channel Nine had them on the main station, as befitting players of this stature.
But the program was interrupted for a special bulletin. Do not adjust your set, Nine were airing the latest dispatch from the Special Ks, the Nick Kyrgios and Thanasi Kokkinakis doubles campaign taking the Australian Open by storm.
The 7-5, 3-6, 6-3 win over Tim Pütz and Michael Venus that was 2 hours and 15 minutes of raw emotion, noise, charisma and drama, booked the Australian duo's ticket to the semifinals and continued a ride that has the Australian sporting public entranced by doubles for the first time in years.
The last time Australia was so enraptured by doubles was in the Woodies' heyday in the 1990s. But this is different to when Mark Woodforde and Todd Woodbridge ruled the roost – they won over the nation by stacking major upon major, retiring as the most prolific doubles team of the open era.
This is different. Victory was far from certain until late on, with the tighter doubles fundamentals of Pütz and Venus almost seeing them navigate the hurricane before the Special Ks surged ahead in the final frame. They still face a mighty climb to claim the title, with third seeds Marcel Granollers and Horacio Zeballos awaiting in the semi-finals.
And the Special Ks are a local act where the Woodies were kings of the road. Nine of their 11 slam victories were overseas, including their five straight Wimbledon titles from 1993 to 1997.
It's not that the Special Ks won't travel, it's that their act won't play anywhere else. Kyrgios and Kokkinakis can't weaponise a crowd in Roland Garros or Flushing Meadows like they can in Melbourne Park, where the rules don't matter so much as the vibes and the only way to live is hit big or die trying.
The Special Ks can sometimes go too far. So much of what they have brought to this summer has been driven by emotion, and by the intensity of the crowd, so it's natural that occasionally things bubble over the top.
But it's undeniably compelling, especially to the casual fan, in a way that is so rare for doubles. And if you want tennis played the old way, there's a whole lot of that for you across the rest of the tournament.
"Me and Thanasi are definitely role models to the youth in Australia. We obviously attract that crowd," Kyrgios said after the match.
"I know that over the years I haven't been the best role model, but I was just learning how to deal with everything. I think now at 26 I have matured, and I've definitely realised that a lot of young kids and people, even people that are low on confidence, they do look towards us when we go out there.
"We are not special people. We're normal humans that you might see walking in Australia, and we are now in the semifinals of a Grand Slam.
"I feel like I think we are just relatable. I think that's what's the best thing about it. They go out and get behind their mates. Most of the guys in the crowd are our mates. We've got our team members that have been through injuries."
There was real, palpable heat to this encounter, with Kyrgios taunting Venus's constant service tosses early in the third set and Pütz complaining to the umpire about the behaviour of the crowd shortly thereafter. It was playing for keeps, as is to be expected in a grand slam quarterfinal.
While Nadal was playing one of his greatest hits, yet another five-set war that showcased so much of the skill and heart that has made him a legend, Kygrios and Kokkinakis were unveiling their latest demo of pub rock tennis.
What was happening at Show Court Arena was loud and fast and a bit rough sometimes and far from perfect, but the imperfections are what makes it feel real. There might have been some noise complaints, but nobody who was there is going to forget it any time soon.
The Woodies put out hit after hit after hit and the Special Ks haven't scored one yet and might only do it once, but if it's only going to happen once, this is how it should happen.
You get the sense that if they do it, if they somehow capture the doubles title, then tennis can have everything else back because they'll already have everything they want.
"In Thanasi's case and me, [we've] been around in some dark times. I guess tennis has always had personalities, and they have just really struggled to understand that there are different ways to go about it," Kyrgios said.
"You've got Roger Federer and these guys that are just once-in-a-generation athletes. I can't be like that. We're not like that. I feel it has to be people that are, I guess a little bit more relatable."
Even the soundbites from their on-court interviews fit the bill. This was a cliche-free zone. Kyrgios "wants to win this f***ing thing" and when asked if the semifinal should be played at Show Court Arena, Kokkinakis urged the crowd to "sink piss and come here" and to keep "ruffling feathers".
It's not traditional and not everyone likes it, but it's real and raw and doesn't pretend to be anything else. They have found a special connection here.
"When we walk through that tunnel, there's nothing like it. These stands are packed, everyone's going bunta," Kokkinakis said.
"We don't want anything else. This is perfect."
Kyrgios is the biggest name in Australian men's tennis, but he is not the star of the show here — what makes the duo so compelling is the relationship between Kyrgios and Kokkinakis.
It's often said that if Kyrgios knuckled down and really committed to getting the best out of himself as a player, there's no limit to what he could achieve in this sport. It's not that easy — if it was, Kyrgios would have done it by now — but it gets to the core of why Kyrgios has taken to the Special K's so well.
Kyrgios does some of his best work when he is not playing for Nick Kyrgios. Even when he could not escape his "tennis brat" image, he has always shown an affinity for teamwork, be it way back in 2015 when he had a whale of time mucking around with Genie Bouchard in mixed doubles at the US Open, or in playing Davis Cup or ATP Cup, where he shares a charming big brother-little brother dynamic with Alex di Minaur.
It can be hard to make a sacrifice for yourself, to make yourself pay the price, but paying the price for someone else, especially someone you care about? That's a lot easier.
When he is playing for something greater than himself — like a teammate, or a friend, or his country or a rowdy crowd at John Cain Arena — Kyrgios finds the joy in tennis far more easily than when he is doing it for himself.
"This Oz Open, honestly, I think for us it's more about the people, playing for them is more important than our doubles success. We haven't drawn up any goals of what we want to achieve this year in doubles," Kyrgios said.
"I just want to play and give the people of Australia and the Australian Open a show and genuinely try and grow the sport of tennis. That's why I'm playing. I know Thanasi is just enjoying it. This is the most fun we've ever had on the court."
Kyrgios's relationship to tennis is complex, and it's only in recent years he's settled into a dynamic which he seems to enjoy, but when he is playing for somebody else he seems freer and easier and far less troubled by the emotional streak he can still struggle to control.
It would be wrong to underplay Kokkinakis's role in the dynamic. Where Kyrgios, by his very nature, cannot help but be polarising, even the staunchest tennis traditionalist would be hard-pressed to begrudge Kokkinakis his success.
After injuries nearly ruined his career and caused him to miss all of 2020, Kokkinakis rebuilt himself and rose from the ashes like a phoenix, capturing his maiden ATP title in Adelaide earlier this month and enjoying a surge in performance and prominence during this run.
Kokkinakis has grown in confidence and stature as a player throughout the tournament. Regardless of what happens next, this summer may well be the making of him as a player.
This is no one-man show but a genuine double act and the more low-key Kokkinakis helps undercut some of Kyrgios's more flamboyant aspects. They bring the best out of one another.
"It's kind of easier in doubles, you can feed off each other a bit. Singles is a lot more serious. Nick makes it the other way, which is unbelievable and tough to do, especially when you're playing in a real competitive environment," Kokkinakis said.
"But I think having us to feed off each other, we can just talk rubbish in between points, look at our box, we have a comedian in the box so we talk rubbish to him as well. Yeah, we just have fun out there."
It's understandable why the Special K show isn't for everyone. Anything with Kyrgios, who will always be polarising, never can be. If one was a career doubles player, it's easy to see why the unfamiliar crowd antics would be irritating, but the customer is almost always right.
The ratings are through the roof and the crowds are standing-room-only. This is box office in a way plenty of other tennis matches never can be. If you don't like it, that's alright. You don't need to watch. The Special Ks have found their people. They don't need anybody else.
But it does beg the question: if Kyrgios and Kokkinakis gun-slinging like two cowboys in a shootout, firing off forehands that make the crowd hoot and holler like maniacs, is bad for tennis, then what could possibly be good for it?
Even if the show sails to the edge of what is considered traditional good taste for a sport too often defined by it, surely it's preferable to the usual doubles obscurity?
At its best, watching Kyrgios and Kokkinakis is seeing two good mates matching wits and skills with some of the best in the world at what they do, riding an emotional rollercoaster the entire time, all before a crowd riding every single shot the whole way through.
If that flicks your switch then you'll be hard-pressed to find a better way to spend a summer afternoon.
