Heard the one about Novak Djokovic playing Nick Kyrgios for a fool?

Novak Djokovic and Nick Kyrgios. Picture: Mark Stewart

A theory doing the rounds in London on the night of last year’s Wimbledon final was that Novak Djokovic had played Nick Kyrgios for a fool. That he indulged Kyrgios in a supposed bromance to remove the sting and raging animosity from their matches. Kyrgios had dominated their previous encounters … fuelled by a dislike of Djokovic that bordered on hatred.

A true and accurate theory? Wholly? Partly? Only Djokovic knows. Let’s run with it, though, and see where it takes us. In their first two clashes, at Indian Wells and Acapulco, Djokovic couldn’t win a set off The Wild Thing. Didn’t even break his serve.

The occasionally half-arsed Kyrgios competed against Djokovic like he wanted to kill him. As though it was a test of their very manhood. He marched on to court like they were going 12 rounds for a championship belt, and then knocked him out, and then looked at the Serb with a seething, spitting disdain.

Their rift was sillier than The Real Housewives of Melbourne, which is as silly as it gets. It was benefiting Kyrgios and hurting Djokovic where it mattered most to him. On scoreboards. He kept copping Kyrgios at his most ruthless and motivated best.

Kyrgios wasn’t averse to tanking a match here and there and yet he fought Djokovic like his life depended on it.

The bickering went on for years. The longest rally. In truth, Kyrgios took the biggest swings. Djokovic was pretty restrained. Kyrgios called Djokovic “a tool”. The Serb rolled his eyes and sighed that he appreciated Kyrgios’s on-court talent.

Kyrgios called Djokovic “a very strange cat.” Djokovic sighed again and said, “Great.” Asked if he wished to expand, Djokovic replied, “No.” Kyrgios said Djokovic’s ill-fated exhibition tour during Covid-19 was “a bonehead decision” and that he wouldn’t accept criticism from “someone partying with his shirt off in a pandemic.” Sigh.

Kyrgios seemed obsessed by it all. Then he told a podcast: “I just feel like he has a sick obsession with wanting to be liked. He just wants to be like Roger (Federer). For me personally, I don’t care right now. I’ve come this far. I feel like he just wants to be liked so much that I just can’t stand him.

“This whole celebration thing (blowing kisses to the crowd) that he does after matches, it’s like, so cringe-worthy. We’re talking about a guy who pulled out of the Australian Open one year because it was too hot. No matter how many grand slams he wins, he will never be the greatest for me. Simply because I’ve played him twice and like, I’m sorry, but if you can’t beat me, you’re not the greatest of all time.”

Djokovic, like, rolled his eyes again and sighed again and said, “What can I say to Nick Kyrgios? I really think he’s not really a bad guy. I do not know why he declares all these things. Whether he wants to draw attention or some motive is different.”

Kyrgios tweeted ‘Federer please win’ before the 2019 Wimbledon final. Djokovic sighed and won. Kyrgios signed his autograph over a spectator’s “Novak” T-shirt at the Atlanta Open, crossing out Djokovic’s name and saying to a camera, “That’s what I think of you.”

He sat in the stands when Djokovic played a doubles match at the ATP Cup … and heckled him like they were at a comedy show. Boo! Hiss! You suck!

Djokovic rolled his eyes again and sighed again: “I didn’t see him in the stands but then I saw the videos on social media. You know, it’s fine. I think he’s good for the sport. Obviously he’s someone that is different.

“He goes about his tennis, he goes about his off-court things in his own authentic way. I have respect for him. I have respect for everyone else really because everyone has a right and freedom to choose how they want to express themselves, what they want to do.

“My respect goes to him for the tennis he’s playing. I think he’s a very talented guy. He’s got a big game. He has proven he has the quality to beat any player in the world.

“Off the court, I don’t have much respect for him, to be honest. That’s where I’ll close it. I really don’t have any further comments about his own comments for me or anything else he’s trying to do.”

Perfectly reasonable from Djokovic. Kyrgios was furious about the mention of disrespect. Their next match would be a firecracker. In this environment, Kyrgios would probably win. Then Djokovic was kicked out of Australia for refusing to reveal his vaccination status. He was shafted there on a number of fronts in that whole sorry saga, and Kyrgios posted a message of support. Staggeringly to many, Djokovic indulged in pleasantries.

This is where the theory kicks in about the World No. 1 playing his nemesis for an unsuspecting fool.

Kyrgios was becoming a force on tour. Threatening to win majors, especially at Wimbledon. If the theory’s right, Djokovic thought something could be gained from keeping your friends close and your Kyrgioses closer. Who’d blame him for soften the atmosphere and volatility? Kyrgios had a knack of playing the lights out against those he disliked. He could be less competitive against his mates, real or imagined.

Fast forward to the night before last year’s Wimbledon final. If they were still in Real Housewives mode, Kyrgios would have been sticking pins in his Djokovic doll, salivating at the prospect of ambushing the World No.1 on the grandest slam stage. Instead, he sounded like he wanted a cuddle.

Under normal circumstances, Djokovic would never, ever, ever write to an opponent the night before a slam decider. On this night, though, he did.

Djokovic: “It took you five years to say something nice about me.”

Kyrgios: “But I defended you when it mattered.”

Djokovic: “You did, I appreciate that.”

Kyrgios: “We friends now?”

Djokovic: “If you are inviting me for a drink or dinner, I accept. P.S. Winner of tomorrow pays.”

Kyrgios: “Deal, let’s go to a nightclub and go nuts.”

Kyrgios won the first set at the All England Club. Could have won the second. Had Djokovic on toast. Succumbed. No shame in that, of course. Djokovic knows how to win a major or 24.

But now he could no longer direct his anger at Djokovic – his buddy! – he turned on himself and his entourage. Always ruinous. Would he have kept his foot on Djokovic’s throat if the feud was ongoing? Perhaps. They hugged at the net and exchanged nice words.

But here’s what didn’t happen. Djokovic didn’t go out to dinner with Kyrgios. They didn’t go to a nightclub together and go nuts. If Kyrgios was waiting for a call to socialise with Djokovic … he’s still waiting.

Played for a fool? Method to the madness of Djokovic befriending someone who’d given him nothing but eye-rolling, sigh-inducing grief? Perhaps Djokovic had everything he needed from the supposed mateship as soon as they shook hands in London. A win. Perhaps he agreed with Edward G Bulwer-Lytton: “A fool flatters himself, a wise man flatters the fool.”

My hunch? Djokovic might have been sincere in wanting to smoke the peace pipe, then it helped him anyway. I wouldn’t be shocked if there was more to it, though. It might have been one of the great stings.

Mateship or mind games? Now Kyrgios is off the tour and he’s no longer a threat, Djokovic appears to have lost interest.

Kyrgios posted a message about his withdrawal from the Australian Open on the weekend. He received lots of messages of commiserations and support. You’ll be missed, pal. Such a shame you’re injured. So on and so forth. Not a word, though, from his supposed bro.