A master at making others uncomfortable on court
He then went on to have a crazy year in 2011. In the Melbourne final, Murray lost the diabolical 39-shot rally that gave him the first set point and then the match with Djokovic, who celebrated loudly in the privacy of the dressing room with a small troupe of Serbian musicians until late at night. As sometimes he has a more volcanic way of celebrating than others. Again, he is explosive. Like Pete Sampras (1994), Andre Agassi (2001) and Federer (2006), he went on to win the Australian Open-Indian Wells-Miami (2011). Then the unthinkable happened: humiliating Nadal, who was leading 9-0 in their head-to-head meetings, had won 37 straight matches on clay, and ended up looking like an amateur with a junior forehand in the final on clay in his Madrid. The same happened in Rome, where this time the Spaniard engaged in ‘moonballs’ (balls without consistency and with a very curved trajectory) in a derisory attempt to destabilise the match. And even though after 41 wins in a row and only one match away from equalling John McEnroe’s legendary run in 1984, he lost a memorable clay-court ping-pong match against Federer at Roland Garros, all the lights were green at Wimbledon, where he beat Nadal in the final (and for the first time in a Major), fulfilled his childhood dream and became world number 1 for the first week of a run that could soon reach 400.
This is it. He has entered the ‘FedeNadal’ galaxy. He will never leave it. In the very devoted Djokovic family, they undoubtedly think that the chosen one, who wears the Chilandar cross like a talisman, has responded to a superior call. Dijana, his mother, recounts the scene when they went to the bedside of the Orthodox patriarch Pavle in the military hospital to receive a blessing, and the latter, very weak, opened his eyes just as ‘Djoko’ entered the room, before dozing off again. And everyone wanted to see this as a sign of protection….
Obviously, one has to acclimatize to this high altitude. Between his success in Melbourne 2012 and Wimbledon 2014, Djokovic won only one Slam final out of the six he played. He lost to Nadal at Roland Garros. He faded against Murray at Flushing. He also lost to Wawrinka in the quarterfinals in Melbourne. The sprawling game of this unique contortionist has been marred by setbacks. Even if he is less spectacular than his two main rivals, the Serb has his trademark in exhausting his opponents, with his way of tirelessly returning the ball, glued to the ground by incredible supports, even in split mode, with his body parallel to the net. He has this superlative art, right from the return against the best hitters, of putting the opponent in difficulty, forcing the other player to find solutions in front of this wall, capable of reversing the course of a match. You attack well, he counter-attacks better, in the area that is most difficult for you to handle. You trudge, he attacks. And you won’t forget that he has made enormous progress on the serve.
But this ability to make others feel uncomfortable, even picking up some free points, undoubtedly requires a concentration and meticulousness at all times, concentration that Djokovic sometimes loses. He was somewhat lost, until another glorious season in 2015 (82 wins, 6 losses), which saw him win three Slam titles (and a final at Roland Garros against Wawrinka), the year-end Masters and six Masters 1000s. The infernal machine seemed to be (re)launched, even more unleashed after two more successes in 2016, in Melbourne and then at Roland, finally, for that much-coveted first title on clay, which was the only Major missing from his record.
But at first it seemed a point of no return, symbolised by the brutal break-up with Agassi. For almost two years, Djokovic seemed to be going through an existential crisis, which was also ‘spectacular’ in the way it happened, him the placated warrior, as he faced the specter of surgery.
CONTINUED ON PAGE 6: the controversies
