But when we arrive at the nitty-gritty juncture of a grand slam and Djoko starts getting down and dirty with his hypochondria and huffing and puffing and moans and groans about being unable to see or run or move or think or swing properly — out, out, brief candle! — he keeps toughing out clutch victories and winning majors and something about it tugs at the heart strings. Dammit!
He’s the Goliath of the Australian Open. His opponent in Thursday’s semi-final is a classic David. Russia’s Aslan Karatsev is enough of an underdog to be have pebbles and a slingshot in his bag while Djokovic stands there in a bronze helmet and coat of armour weighing 5000 shekels, waving around his bronze spear and eight Norman Brookes Challenge Cups in the and saying, “Give me a man and let us fight each other … come here and I’ll give your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field!”
I hoped Djokovic would bomb out early. Then I enjoyed wanting him to lose so much that I don’t actually want him to lose, because then I wouldn’t be able to hope he lost anymore. So I’ve ended up hoping he wins. Make sense?
The business end of the Australian Open is infinitely and unquestionably more majestic for his involvement. The mad bugger. He doesn’t have the charisma to be what he wants to be off the court: a figure hero-worshipped as a suave James Bond sort of an athlete – in other words, a Roger Federer. He just does not have that in him. But when it comes to the on-court matter of survival and progression, he keeps flicking away the stones thrown at him by opponents and critics, eating the pipsqueak Davids alive.
He’s a heavyweight prize fighter. His six-hour win over Rafael Nadal in the 2012 Open final was one of the most extraordinary nights of sport I’ve witnessed. It had the electrifying feel of a pugilistic fight night. He’s played a lot of awfully great matches, and been the last man standing in most of them. He’s beaten Federer in three Wimbledon finals. Epic. He trails only Margaret Court, Serena Williams, Rafael Nadal and Federer as the most successful player in history. He may overtake the lot of them. Epic.
For him to have smashed racquets and clutch at his side with Shakespearean theatricality during this Open – the brief candle! – only to zero in under intense pressure to reach another semi-final at Melbourne Park … credit where it’s due. Credit to Goliath. Dammit!
Nick Kyrgios talks about Djokovic like the Serb is the village idiot. That’s hardly accurate. The suggestion of a rivalry between Djokovic, a 17-time major champion, and Kyrgios, a one-time major quarter-finalist, is ludicrous. As Ian Healy said on Wednesday: “They’re not fierce rivals. They might be personal rivals, but if Kyrgios thinks he’s in a professional rivalry with Djokovic, he’s got another thing coming.
“Djokovic shouldn’t even know Kyrgios’ name at the moment … Kyrgios is having a crack without credibility. Stop having a go at Djokovic, a bloke who won this tournament eight times. Nick’s carrying on like a superstar, and he’s in the third round, and then loses it.”
Kyrgios should at least acknowledge the world No 1’s accomplishments. He might be right, however, when he says Djokovic tries too hard. Perhaps that’s the crux of the problem.
When Djokovic does his soppy my-heart-to-yours victory celebration, perhaps he’s just simply trying too hard to be loved. When he staged his ill-fated Adria Tour, perhaps he simply tried too hard to get tennis back on show for players and fans.
When he’s asked Craig Tiley for adjustments in quarantine conditions – any chance of a court in the backyard? And can we maybe cut the isolation back a few days? – perhaps he was simply and sincerely just trying too hard to help out the battlers. Who really knows? Only him. All the rest of us can be certain of, following his tough four-set win over Alex Zverev to reach Thursday’s semi-final against Russian infiltrator Karatsev, is how hard he tries on a court. And that’s bloody hard.
Boo him, roll your eyes at him, hiss at him, laugh at him, slingshot your rocks at him – he’s still here. You don’t win eight Australian Opens by being a flake. Djokovic versus Karatsev is as David and Goliath as it gets. But even the real David and Goliath story wouldn’t be much without Goliath being in it. This Goliath’s still standing.
Djokovic should go the whole hog as the villain. Walk onto Rod Laver Arena in a Gorgeous George-style bath robe and spray himself with perfume. Reject a post-match hand shake by saying, “Get your filthy hands off me!”
Crowds will return to Melbourne Park for his clash with Karatsev, which guarantees another anti-Djokovic crowd. He was treated appallingly by spectators before lockdown; the drunkards who kept screeching at him in the five-setter against Fritz were way out of line. We know our sport in Australia. Deep-down we know Djokovic deserves respect as an all-time great.
We shouldn’t ignore where he’s come from. He loved tennis so much as a kid that he hit balls in an empty swimming pool because war-torn Belgrade had no courts. He used to stand in front of a mirror with a fake Wimbledon trophy and rehearse the Wimbledon speech he hoped to make some day. He became a five-time Wimbledon champion. That’s beautiful stuff. The result of trying hard.
He’s on his way to another Open final, and the championship match will be more intriguing, thrilling and dramatic for his pantomime villainy. Djokovic versus Karatsev? Go Djoko! Throw Karatsev’s flesh to the birds and the beasts. Dammit!
I think his abominable abdominal injury is legitimate. Perhaps not serious enough for his out, out brief candle routines, but a major inconvenience nonetheless. His furious racquet-smashing against Zverev came after one hour and 52 minutes of hard yakka. He knows it’s a poor look but in that moment, he needed a release. It would help him win. And that’s what he’s here to do. Win.
“It was a relief for me, but I wouldn‘t recommend this kind of relief channelling,“ he grinned. ”I’m not proud of these kind of moments. I have my own demons that I have to fight with, and I’m sure everybody else has them, too.”
‘We’ve been played’: Kyrgios roasts Sinner over doping saga reunion
Nick Kyrgios has slammed a move from Jannik Sinner to reunite with the fitness coach he sacked in 2024 after it was revealed that the Italian had tested positive for doping.
Venus effect in full show as 45-year-old ends 16-month layoff
Venus Williams has made her return from a 16-month layoff at the DC Open, wowing a capacity crowd in the doubles ahead of her singes comeback.
I spend half my time at majors death-riding Novak Djokovic. I doubt I’m Robinson Crusoe or even Roberto Bautista Agut in this regard. Djokovic versus Jeremy Chardy? Go Chardy. Djoko versus Frances Tiafoe? Go Tiafoe. Djoko versus Taylor Fritz? Go Fritz.