The Watermelon Slice is the newest beverage at the U.S. Open, and it costs $39

The Honey Deuce still is the toast of U.S. Open adult beverages, an economic colossus that has secured a place on the Mount Rushmore of sports-event drinks alongside the Kentucky Derby’s Mint Julep, Wimbledon’s Pimm’s Cup and the Masters’ Azalea.

But every iconic concoction must start somewhere, and this year’s Open has welcomed a brand new, brand-related beverage, one so expensive it makes the $23 honey deuce seem like a relative bargain.

It is called the Watermelon Slice, costs a cool $39 and unlike the ubiquitous Honey Deuce is available at the Open only at the IHG Racquet Bar, on a relatively quiet side of Arthur Ashe Stadium.

The drink is made with champagne, elderflower liqueur, watermelon juice and lime, with a watermelon wedge garnish, served – and this part is crucial – in a collectible cup the bright green color of a tennis ball.

Watermelon Slice business at the bar mid-afternoon on Monday could not match the long lines that await Honey Deuce buyers all over the grounds of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center. But there were plenty of pioneers willing to take the plunge.

“I had to transfer my entire savings account to buy this Watermelon Slice; hopefully it’s worth it,” said Bill Hackley, who is from the Washington, D.C., area.

Then he tasted it. “It is actually really good; I’m not going to lie,” he said. “I don’t know that it’s $39 good. And I got a chunk of watermelon.”

This was a bold move for Hackley, as he was accompanied by Kate Friesing, also from the Washington area, who was wearing a Honey Deuce T-shirt and hat at the IHG bar.

“I had one earlier today,” Hackley said. “I still like the Honey Deuce more, without a doubt . . . It was all about the cool cup. For $39, the cool plastic cup that cost them 50 cents.”

Jessica Ginn of Houston said, “The cup is really cute, so I wanted to take this home with me. And I heard they were pretty good.”

She confirmed that by tasting it. But again, Ginn is not the sort to limit herself. She said she already had consumed two Honey Deuces earlier in the day,

Britt Gambino said she was enjoying her Watermelon Slice more than the Honey Deuce, in part because of her partiality to the St-Germain liqueur used in the former rather than the Chambord in the latter.

“That feels sacrilegious to say, but I think it’s something about generally liking watermelon better than melon, anyway,” she said. “They picked the right combination of liquors for me.”

What about that price tag, though?

“I bought a T-shirt for $70,” Gambino said. “This is not a normal day . . . My wife said, ‘We are on vacation. Consider the U.S. Open a vacation day, just doing things completely out of the ordinary.’”

It remains to be seen how much business the Watermelon Slice – created by IHG Hotels & Resorts, an Open sponsor – will do during the tournament. But no matter what, it will be dwarfed by the Honey Deuce, which has been at this since 2006.

That drink, too, has appeal beyond the beverage itself because of its keepsake cups, which often are stacked high by collectors as they walk around the tennis center grounds.

Last year, a record 556,000 were sold, a staggering figure for a drink composed of vodka, lemonade and Chambord, garnished with three honeydew melon balls the color of tennis balls.

Grey Goose vodka, another Open sponsor, asked restaurateur Nick Mautone to create a signature cocktail in 2006.

Inspiration struck when he visited a Long Island farmer’s market, bought some honeydew melons, and while making a fruit salad for guests, realized they were a color match made in tennis heaven.

Mautone, who previously lived in Hampton Bays, moved to Washington State in early 2019. He told Seattle Refined that the original recipe included rosemary syrup.

“Frankly, the drink is wonderful with it, but too complex,” he said, “and in the end, the venue needed something slightly simpler to be able to serve the thousands and thousands of portions served each week.”

The Watermelon Slice remains a work in progress. A bartender struggled at times on Monday with how to position the watermelon wedge on the souvenir cup.

But customers were understanding. Perhaps someday they could say they were there at the start of the next big thing. If not, they still would have a cute cup.

By Neil Best

neil.best@newsday.com@sportswatch

Neil Best first worked at Newsday in 1982, returned in 1985 after a detour to Alaska and has been here since, specializing in high schools, college basketball, the NFL and most recently sports media and business.