Villain Novak Djokovic turns vanilla within sight of a grand slam

It was the worst yet most human performance of Novak Djokovic’s career. He didn’t just lose: he bawled his eyes out.

Novak Djokovic reduced to tears as he imploded against Daniil Medvedev

It was the worst yet most human performance of Novak Djokovic’s career. The softest. Most vulnerable. A natural extrovert went introverted. A volatile character kept too much inside. The unexpectedly lovey-dovey vibe inside Arthur Ashe Stadium turned a warrior into a whimsical pacifist. He might have won if the masses kept hurling insults and blowing their raspberries at him.

Djokovic had no one to stick it to. No one to defy. He’d waited 15 years to be loved in New York City and when it finally happened, he lost his most valuable asset. His mongrel streak. The affections and applause of the crowd combined with his own crippling nerves to make him go weak at the knees. His 6-4, 6-4, 6-4 loss to Daniil Medvedev in the US Open final was a total and utter emotional capitulation in sight of the calendar-year grand slam. The villain turned vanilla.

As always, Djokovic’s heart was on his sleeve. The heart was broken. Instead of going down swinging, kicking and screaming, there was barely a whimper.

The most shocking moment of all? He was trailing 4-6, 4-6, 4-5. The normally dissenting NYC crowd was on its feet, thumping its chest, chanting his name, as it had done from the outset. Djokovic put his face in a towel and wept like a baby. It was good and proper sobbing. Never would you have predicted it.

The iron man, the unblinking machine, this all-round ruthless competitor was shedding tears. We looked at him and thought, mate, are you crying?

He was still emotional during the presentation ceremony. He told his packed, raucous audience at Flushing Meadows: “I was thinking in both scenarios, sort of visualising today, here in front of you guys, what I would say. And, ah, I would like to say that tonight, even though I have not won the match, my heart is filled with joy and I am the happiest man alive because you guys made me feel very special on the court. You guys touched my soul.

“I have never felt like this in New York. Honestly, I have never felt like this. I love you guys. Thank you so much for your support and everything you have done tonight for me. I love you and I’ll see you soon. Thank you.”

All Djokovic wanted was to be loved? Somewhere in the Bahamas, Nick Kyrgios was screaming at his TV set, I told you so! The World No.1 was softly spoken and deflated in his post-match press conference. The eyes were still red. The devastation was more apparent. He no longer looked the happiest man alive.

“What I said in the stadium, I really mean it,” he said. “Part of me is very sad. It’s a tough one to swallow, this loss, everything that was on the line. But on the other hand, it was something I never felt before in my life in New York. The crowd pleasantly surprised me.”

He said: “I did not expect anything. The amount of support and energy and love I got from the crowd was something I will remember forever. I mean, that’s the reason at the changeover, why I teared up. Because the energy and emotion was so strong. As strong as winning 21 grand slams. That’s how I felt.”

It really was an astonishing result. Djoker, choker. He was so paralysed by tension and apprehension that his legs were slow. His mind was frazzled. He lost all rhthym and flow on the normally metronomic ground strokes.

The best returner in tennis hardly got one back as Medvedev served like Curtly Ambrose used to bowl. Good areas, and from a very great height. Only once did Djokovic let his natural explosiveness come to the fore, smashing a racquet to smithereens. What was he thinking? Those things cost $300 each.

There hadn’t been a beating this heavy since Brad Pitt was in Fight Club. Pitt nodded knowingly – he was in the front row. There hadn’t been a more dazed and confused leading man since Bradley Cooper was in The Hangover. Cooper nodded knowingly, too – he was sitting next to Pitt.

Brad Pitt and Bradley Cooper. Picture: AFP

There were as many Oscar, Grammy and Tony winners as major champions in the audience, all of them expecting to witness sporting history. Djokovic’s slam. Sport yet again read the script and put it through the shredder. The rewrite had him crying himself to sleep.

We should probably mention Medvedev here. In among Djokovic’s ruinously nervous, apprehensive and uncertain display, he became the US Open champion. He’s a quirky fellow who celebrated in typically weird fashion. It looked like a pencil drop, but the pencil had its tongue sticking out.

He annihilated Djokovic despite the minor inconvenience of hitting wild double faults on his first two match points, stalling his post-match celebrations to grab his mobile phone and text his wife, Daria. It was their third wedding anniversary, and they were very cute.

He grabbed the microphone, his winner’s cheque of $US2.5 million and told the patrons: “I want to say sorry. To you the fans, and Novak. I mean, we all know what he was going for today. I just want to say, what you have accomplished this year and throughout your career – I’ve never said this to anybody but I’ll say it right now. For me, you are the greatest tennis player in the history.”

I don’t think Djokovic is the greatest tennis player in the history. His loss highlighted his weaknesses. His serve is very good, but not great. His volleys were bloody awful. The thing about Djokovic’s near-certain status as the greatest tennis player in the history is that he’s not as good as the other two blokes in the conversation. Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal would have been celebrating Monday’s result as heartily as Medvedev.

The GOAT contenders all have 20 majors. Djokovic wins on a countback. The superior head-to-head record. None of them have won the grand slam, but Djokovic has gone closer. Let’s not forget his year has been truly spectacular. It feels a failure but he’s won 27 of 28 matches at the majors, made all four finals and won three of them.

And yet, and yet – Federer’s high-flying best was better than Djokovic’s. Nadal’s best had Djokovic on his heels. The greatest tennis player in the history? It depends what floats your boat. The debate will be alive and kicking at the Australian Open, which the 40-year-old Federer will contest from the nearest available old people’s home.

Djokovic admitted to “a tornado” in his mind before the implosion against Medvedev. He tried too hard to contain it. He should have let it all hang out.

He said if he won his inner battle, he would win the match. He lost both. I thought he looked old for the first time in his career. He’s only 34, which is still young – but he’s getting on a bit. The 25-year-old Medvedev was quicker, more consistent, more dynamic, more energetic. He out-Djokovic’d Djokovic.

The Serb was impeccably gracious in his abject defeat. He hugged Medvedev at the net and applauded him warmly from his courtside seat.

It was an extraordinarily wooden performance that led to the uncustomary role of weeping willow. A hardcore athlete revealed a touchingly human side. He looked like he needed a hug. More astonishingly, you might have been inclined to give him one. Only as a loser had Djokovic become what he’s always wanted to be. Rather likeable.