Wimbledon glory days over as Federer, Nadal, Djokovic and Murray break up Fab Four
The Championships have the air of a farewell to a legendary era as the greatest generation in the history of tennis is over when the gates open at the All England Club on Monday.
A goofy young dude from Switzerland played a night match at the Sydney International while wearing black shoes, black socks, black shorts and a black shirt. It was 2001 and we thought geez, mate. You go all right.
An intense young bloke from Spain played Lleyton Hewitt at the Australian Open while wearing a frown, a scowl and a growl. He had hellbent slits for eyes, a white-knuckled grip and an intensity that dwarfed even Hewitt’s. It was 2004 and we thought, Crikey, mate. You go all right.
A cocky young fella from Serbia played a day match at the Sydney International – the breeding ground of the stars! – while wearing impatience, volatility, tempestuousness and foul language before he partook of piss-taking impersonations of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. It was 2009 and we thought, Fair dinkum, mate. You’re a bit of a smart arse. But you go all right.
A cranky young soul from Scotland played his early Wimbledons while Londoners abused him. He was so comically surly he appeared to have leapt from an episode of Fawlty Towers. He moped and grizzled like Basil having a bad day with Manuel and Sybil but then he won the Olympics at the All England Club, and two Wimbledon crowns, and everyone in the Old Dart forgave him for being Scottish.
Federer, Nadal, Djokovic and Andy Murray have been the Big Four for two decades. The greatest generation in the history of tennis. Strike me pink, we’ve struck it lucky as observers, but here’s a sobering thought that shan’t be altered by any amount of Pimms in plastic cups when the gates are flung open at the All England Club on Monday. The glory days are over.
Federer is already gone. Nadal and Murray are entering their last Wimbledons. Recent spinal surgery makes it unlikely for Basil. Sorry, Andy. Djokovic’s body is starting to betray him. Only the Serb is likely to be here this time next year … but that’s no certainty. There hasn’t been a bigger dissolution of a Fab Four since Paul McCartney forfeited his spot in The Beatles.
Which gives The Championships the air of a farewell to a legendary era. Nadal and Murray are such injury crocks they may need to be dragged out by the ankles. Djokovic had knee surgery on June 5 and if he’s fit to play Czech qualifier Vit Kopriva, it’ll be by the skin of his meniscus.
His missus has been asking a decent question: Why bother?
“It’s a very fair question that I don’t know the answer to and I do know the answer to, to be honest,” Djokovic says in London. “’Thirty-seven years old, don’t you want to maybe have less risk and prepare yourself for the Olympic Games?’ From that perspective, I don’t have an answer to that. But I do have something that is described as a feeling of not missing out at a grand slam while I can still play. While I’m still active and at this level.”
FOMO. The fear of missing out? Not so. “I wouldn’t call it a fear of missing out,” he says. “I would just say it’s this incredible desire to play, just to compete. Particularly because it’s Wimbledon, the tournament that always has been a dream tournament for me when I was a kid. Just the thought of me missing Wimbledon was just not correct. I didn’t want to deal with that.”
He has FOMOOW, then. A fear of missing out on Wimbledon. Any other tournament in the world, apart from the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, he’d give it a miss. I reckon Djokovic will revel in this. For the first time in a long time, he’s an underdog. Beware the wounded, obsessive, meticulous, macho, competitive animal. The young smart arse has become a Spartan.
“I mean, three weeks from surgery is just making the cut, so to say,” he says. “It’s not ideal, maybe, in the eyes of the doctors and specialists that would tell you it’s normally between three and six weeks. The closer to six weeks the better, probably, because you don’t want to risk too much. You want to give your knee and your body time. But it’s also individual. It’s very subjective. Everyone has a different response to the recovery, to the injury, to rehab, to exercises. I didn’t have a setback.”
He says: “If I had a day where my knee just flared up and I had swelling and inflammation, of course I would be slowing down and then my whole Wimbledon, this year’s participation, would be in doubt. But that hasn’t happened. It’s not happening.”
Murray grabbed his racquets, ankle braces, crutches, Zimmer frame, Nurofen Zavance and trained twice on Saturday. His opening match against Czech Tomas Machac is slated for Tuesday (Tuesday 8pm AEST) in old London town. He’ll decide on Monday night whether to play singles or just the doubles with his brother, Jamie. It’ll be stirring if he plays singles and jags a win. The risk is that it’ll be awkward and sad if he lasts only a couple of games and has to withdraw.
“Maybe it’s my ego getting in the way, but I feel that I deserve the opportunity to give it until the very last moment to make that decision,” Murray says.
Jumping out of his 21-year-old skin is Carlos Alcaraz. Spain’s defending champion will get the ball rolling, or club it to death, more accurately, when he opens the Centre Court program on Monday against Mark Lajal. The Estonian Lajal needs to bring his A-game, but ranked No.262, he may not have one.
“I’m ready to start the tournament,” Alcaraz says as his predecessors prepare for the end. “The truth is that the recovery time for Novak is amazing. Just two weeks, two-and-a-half weeks, but he’s already playing sets and points at a very, very high level.
“He usually recovers quickly. We all know what he does off the court to be 100 per cent. The nutrition, the rest. Everything he does is perfect so he can be there and perform.
“In a way, I’m surprised he is already like this. On the other hand, not so much. I told Novak that what he is doing is superhuman.”
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