Back in 2016, the year Novak Djokovic had won two of the four Slams, his manager Edoardo Artaldi, in a rare interview, had spoken about a long-standing awkward issue. Artaldi had explained how Djokovic had dealt with the boos when he played Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal.
The Italian marketeer, Dodo to friends, said Djokovic, unlike in the past, had made peace with hooting and hollering. “Roger is more or less at the end of his career … and they (fans) wish to see Roger winning another Slam … Nole has maybe more time in front of him,” he told sport360.com. It was his way of saying that the fans would come around. How long can you not cheer for a winner?
Cut to 2023 and Djokovic, with 23 Slams, has become the undisputed GOAT. Federer has retired and Nadal is also semi-retired. All that Dodo had said has come true but what he had hoped hadn’t.
The other day at Wimbledon, 20-year-old Carlos Alcaraz blew in like a wind, unseated Djokovic and swept the tennis world off their feet. The mood at Centre Court was a throwback to the Federer-Djokovic days. There were shouts of protests when the Serb took extra minutes between points, they tried to distract him as he tossed the ball to serve and the catcalls intensified when he smashed his racket against the net post. The tragic truth of men’s tennis hadn’t changed for Djokovic – the greatest-ever tennis player still wasn’t the most loved.
By backing Alcaraz, Wimbledon was following an old tradition of backing the underdog. However, by dissing a five-time champ they were going against the convention. In 2021, when Federer had lost in straight sets to Hubert Hurkacz, a rookie from Poland, Centre Court had collectively tried to pull the Swiss star out of the hole. They had even crossed the line of decency. They had heckled the youngster, cheered his errors and one die-hard RF fan had even pleaded “one more year” as Federer was leaving the court forever.
So why these double standards? Djokovic too seemed to be asking the same question on Centre Court that Sunday. As chants of ‘Carlos, Carlos’ hit the Wimbledon air during the thrilling final set, the Serb looked around the arena searching for love. Like so many times before, his eyes would settle on his boys, his wife, coach Goran Ivanisevic and others. In the sea full of sharks, the players’ box was his island of solace. For all he has done, does the all-time great deserve this?
Djokovic has his quirks but he is no Nick Krygios. He never gives up, he has been part of many epic entertaining encounters and has a goofy sense of humour too. So why didn’t the Cult of Djokovic grow? Among the Big 3, why is he a distant third on the ‘Twitter followers per Grand Slam achievement’ metric? Flipping back the pages gives some answers.
Outsider
When Djokovic first arrived on the Grand Slam circuit, tennis was fiercely monogamous, most fans had taken lifelong vows to walk alongside Roger Federer or Rafael Nadal through peaks and valleys. The English language media played a role in influencing fans. They took the lead in doodling devil horns on the newcomer who had the face of a village simpleton.
There was no attempt to understand the man who wasn’t like them, made unconventional choices and took unpopular stands. Djokovic’s beliefs are based on his unique journey and life experiences. There are also those who say that the UK press had an axe to grind. Scot Andy Murray and Djokovic had a running battle since their junior days and this reflected in the way they portrayed the Serb.
Writers with Serbian roots, or those who have spent time in the Balkan area, have deep angst about the way Djokovic is perceived by those who don’t go the extra mile in understanding him. Ana Mitric, a Yugoslavian American, calls herself a tennis enthusiast and lapsed academic in her Twitter bio. As a child, she would visit Serbia during summer break. She often gets quoted when someone really makes an effort to discover the real Djokovic.
On the Thirty Love tennis podcast with host Carl Bialik, she gives the answer the world has been asking for a long time. She laments how Djokovic was burdened with the convenient labels at the start of his career. “He doesn’t fit in a neat and tidy box … so people want him to embrace the villain role, or the spoiler, or some role that is tied to his arrival on the scene after Federer and Nadal, in other words this ‘third wheel’,” Mitric says.
Djokovic has been called names, blamed for gamesmanship. Djokobitch is one, ‘fake’ another. Djokovic does take long dodgy injury breaks during the matches he would trail but he doesn’t quite break rules. He just stretches them to the limit.
Having to pursue his passion while dodging poverty and war can leave one scarred. Djokovic has often spoken about his father taking high-interest loans to sustain his career. There is one frame from those days of struggle that’s etched in his mind. It’s of a knife pressing against his father’s neck, an unsavoury outcome resulting from a repayment default.
Two different worlds
Even when he made it to the big league, he didn’t have the corporate support from Serbia like Federer got from Switzerland and Nadal from Spain. Federer had the backing of Swiss companies like Credit Suisse, Lindt, Jura and the same was true for Nadal. Djokovic didn’t have such luxuries. Manager Artaldi told sports360.com the interesting story of signing the Uniqlo deal.
It was a stroke of luck that saved the Serb. It was his decision to support the earthquake victims in Japan that caught the attention of Uniqlo’s top boss. Impressed by the empathy, he gave Djokovic his first big sponsorship. These struggles would instill strong survival instincts and they would manifest on court.
His one-time coach Boris Becker underlines this attitude. “He’s got two personalities. There’s the one on the court – the machine-like, Zen-like, businesslike competitor that wants to win no matter what. And then you’ve got Novak off the court, who is a sweetheart – loves his family, loves his charity, loves his country – and he would give you his last shirt if you needed one,” he once told the BBC.
Both he and his father have caused furore for making statements that aren’t perceived as politically right in the world that’s far away from their home. Djokovic Sr has been captured in a frame with tennis fans supporting Russia’s war on Ukraine and Nole once gave a three-finger victory salute that Serb soldiers exchanged when they fought Croatia.
The well-researched Djokovic biography by writer and broadcaster Chris Bowers paints a detailed picture of Serbia and the importance of nationalism in the war-torn region. It gives an idea about the two different worlds that the tennis superstar keeps toggling between. Once in a while the scripts get mixed up. “He’s totally comfortable in his own country, even though he acts with a slightly different register – he’s a bit more jingoistic, happy to join in with Serbian songs and cultural rituals, even a bit of blatant nationalism,” writes Bowers.
Djokovic isn’t just another rags-to-riches story of a boy from a war-torn land. Writer Mitric shares a line she had heard from noted writer Brian Phillips during her research of the Anglo-American coverage of Djokovic. “Novak presents to the tennis fans as well as tennis writers with a complexity and complicatedness that people don’t necessarily come to tennis for.”
For what all he has gone through and what all he has achieved, if there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve to be misunderstood, it has to be Djokovic.
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