These are the days that try Novak Djokovic’s soul, no easy feat considering the Serbian trooper’s trademark stoicism.
Djokovic hasn’t won a singles title since the Paris Olympics last summer. He lost his first match in his two most recent tournaments, both important Masters events/Grand Slam tune-ups. Both men who beat him, Alejandro Tabilo and Matteo Arnaldi, are ranked outside the Top 30.
“It’s a completely different feeling from what I had in 20-plus years of professional tennis,” Djokovic admitted after absorbing his most recent loss, in Madrid. “Kind of a new reality for me”
Then, stolid as ever, he added, “Look, I cannot sit here and complain about my career or anything. I’m not doing that.”
Djokovic deserves praise. He deserves empathy. He deserves the superb, healthy body that appears to have deserted him as he closed on—and then vaulted—the hurdle of his 37th year. Djokovic reached the semifinals at the Australian Open before once again experiencing the flesh-and-blood equivalent of metal fatigue, this time a muscle tear in his left leg. Later, an eye infection that hampered his performance in the Miami Open final.
Djokovic deserves many things, and some might even say he deserves to win that 100th tournament (he’s mired at 99), and a 25th major that would make him the undisputed, asterisk-free Grand Slam singles champion of all time (he is currently tied with Margaret Court).
Of course, sports, the ultimate meritocracy, doesn’t work that way. But Djokovic does deserve one further moment of glory—a Jimmy Connors moment. A riveting, improbable run on a big stage when the consensus opinion is that he is no longer relevant. Djokovic isn’t quite there yet, but then tennis is a fast-moving, amnesia-based enterprise.