Maybe the greatest of all
On June 13th, 2021 Novak Djokovitch beat Rafael
Nadal in a marathon encounter at the semifinals at Roland Garros. Rafa, a 13
times winner of the French Open, was thought to have reigned supreme in Paris
but Djoko re-wrote the script with a stunning display. I watched the entire
game, (it had been a while since I did that with a tennis match) and when it ended,
I told myself that I should make an effort to attend the US Open Final and
watch history being made.
My decision was further validated by the Finals
(Djoko beat Tsitsipas, despite being down 2 sets at the start). He proceeded to
win Wimbledon in a similar fashion. The US Open tickets came on sale the day
after Wimbledon and my friend Vivek, who is somewhat of a regular at Flushing
Meadows, snagged a few of us some tickets. The die had
been cast for me to watch my first Grand Slam game live, and it could not be
under more exciting circumstances.
Social media was buzzing with the G.O.A.T. debate, from the
puerile partisan bickering to more sober in-depth discussion. It was pointed
out often that a Grand Slam HAS been achieved since 1969, and it
was not just a Grand Slam but a Golden Grand Slam, but even that was back in
1988. In the middle of all this, Djoko, a crowd and participant favorite at the
Tokyo Olympics, lost in the semi-finals to Zverev. He then proceeded to lose
the bronze medal. Looking back, maybe those were early signs but excuses
abounded – if only those were 5 setters.
On September 12, we were at Flushing Meadows bright and
early. When we got to our seats and I looked around, it appeared
that every Serb in the US was at the stadium. T-shirts, hoodies and caps with Novak slogans lurked in every corner. The game began at 4 PM sharp, and Djokovic
promptly got broken in Set 1, Game 1. He went on to lose the set and we
exchanged knowing glances – he is just warming up. Then he went on to the lose
the second set, and grinning nervously, we told each other “Ah, he is going to
replay the French Open script. All the more exciting”.
Alas, what we saw instead was the fragility of humans.
I
think it is without debate that Joker Nole is among the top hundred humans in
terms of handling stress. In fact, I am being generous as he may even be in the
top ten. That day, his superhuman power slowly dissolved in front of our eyes.
It wasn’t that Medvedev played like a colossus, and neither did Djokovic
crumble. Everything was off just by the smallest fraction – the sizzling ace
was instead a fractional fault, the down the line forehand just tentative enough
to miss being a winner. All Danil Medvedev had to do was stay in the game and watch the
human psyche eat itself, crumb by crumb.
The game was over in record time. I had made plans to party with
friends and return home the next day but instead I dragged my despondent self
through the Flushing Meadows parking lot looking for my car for 45 minutes. I
then drove home battling the Mets crowd and was back by 11 PM. The only thing I
could think of was a near-tears Djokovic saying: “I would like to say, that
tonight, even though I have not won the match, my heart is filled with joy and
I'm the happiest man alive because you guys made me feel very special on the
court. I've never felt like this in New York”.
During my drive back, a friend texted to say "Sorry Joker lost, I didn't care but I was rooting for him". That made me think – I wasn't rooting so much for him as I was for us ordinary humans and tonight Novak made us understand that he is one of
us, which is why we ended up caring.