Bravo Nole idemo do kraja, san je na dohvat ruke...
The Thing for Him 07/01/2011 - 2:26 PM
LONDON—It had been, by his own admission, an “up and down” two weeks for Novak Djokovic. He had won five matches without ever being in any serious danger of defeat, and at times, particularly in his win over Michael Llodra and his first set against Bernard Tomic, he had been every bit as brilliant and precise as he had been during his first five perfect months of the season. Still, a malaise, a lack of self-assurance, a sense of caution hung over him, on court and in the interview room. Having his win streak terminated so brutally in Paris, it seemed as if Djokovic was unsure of just confident he should allow himself to be. Even as he was winning, there were anxious lapses in form; Djokovic’s nervous four-set win over Marcos Baghdatis, in front of a Centre Court crowd that was vocally in his opponent’s corner, felt like a great escape.
Friday afternoon Djokovic walked onto the same court as the obvious favorite against the giant-killer, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. He was playing for a chance to fulfill two childhood dreams: To reach the Wimbledon final—“I always tried to visualize myself on the final Sunday” here, he said today—and to become No. 1 in the world. But the malaise, the lack of self-assurance, the dulled edge remained. How much, you might have wondered, had all of those wins at the start of 2011 meant to Djokovic? Was he really that traumatized by his loss to Roger Federer at Roland Garros that the momentum he had built in the previous months would vanish entirely?
It was Tsonga who projected the air of a winner as the match began. Scrapping on defense, using the drop shot, knocking off his explosive, shotgun running forehand, and serving aces, he went up an early break and appeared ready to pick up where he had left off two days earlier against Roger Federer. Djokovic, on the other hand, was hitting his returns short and playing catch-up, reactive tennis during rallies. There was a vulnerability to him that we hadn’t seen in a long time, a vulnerability that had seemed to be a thing of the past. When he got an easy forehand on a break point, Djokovic hesitated and pulled it wide. He turned and stared back at his parents, wide-eyed, like a 12-year-old junior who was playing his first tennis match.
Earlier this week, Mardy Fish was asked to compare Djokovic and Rafael Nadal. Fish said that, more than Rafa, Djokovic “uses his movement.” He uses it to defend, to demoralize, and to position himself; today he also used it to loosen up. In the middle of the first set, Tsonga came to net and curled a drop volley outside the sideline. It appeared to me for a split-second that it might go for a winner, but I’d forgotten who was chasing it down. Djokovic got to it easily and swung a deft, sharp-angled forehand pass by a frozen Tsonga. It wasn’t an obvious turning point at first—the Frenchman would continue to lead for a few more games—but the dash across court seemed to relax Djokovic and settle him in. He uses his movement in all kinds of ways, including as a way to make himself feel comfortable.
The true turning point came a few minutes later, and it was the most crucial and head-scratching moment of the match. Tsonga was serving at 5-4. He’d momentarily lost control for the first time in the set and gone down 0-40, but had served his way back to deuce. Tsonga chose that moment to have the brain cramp to end all brain cramps. After missing his first delivery wide, he attempted a 133 m.p.h. second serve down the middle. It didn’t go in.
A few seconds later, it was 5-5. When he broke, Djokovic stopped, clenched his fists and let out a primal roar. It was the most guttural, immediate, and unplanned of celebrations; it felt like he’d released the last of his nerves. The hard-earned confidence of 2011 really had been there all along; 43 straight wins had meant something. Not long after, Djokovic won the first set in a tiebreaker. Not long after that, he won the second set 6-2 and was up a break in the third.
“I was a bit nervous to start the match,” an overjoyed Djokovic said afterward, “but then when I broke him at 5-4, I felt that it’s time for me to step up and earn the victory. It’s really difficult to play against him because he’s unpredictable. Sometimes he comes up with incredible winners and he turns it around.”
Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, unpredictable? Truer, and less necessary, words won’t be spoken during this fortnight. Today Tsonga seemed to be on a roller-coaster from one game, one point, maybe even one shot to the next. After riding so high through the last three sets against Federer and for most of the first today, he crashed hard in the second. By the middle of the third, it appeared that he had thrown in the towel; he flipped one shot playfully back with the opposite side of his strings, and he and Djokovic ended the next game sprawled on the grass after a rally, smiling at each other. Then, after the changeover, Tsonga came out firing bigger forehands than he had all match and throwing his fist in the air to rally the crowd. Djokovic must have wondered where this guy had been for the last hour or so. The Frenchman’s burst of energy was enough to get him a set, but that’s as far as it went. Back down to earth, no longer on the verge of defeat, starting from scratch, he lost the first eight points of the fourth. This time there were no more surges left.
What struck me most watching Tsonga inside Centre Court was what he does with his left foot when he serves. Some players, including Djokovic, lift the front of this foot up and bring it down as they rock back and forth to start their motions. Others keep it down. No one is taught to do what Tsonga does: He lifts up the toe and slides his foot backward. There’s always room for variety in technique, but to me it’s a small sign of a more general lack of precision in Tsonga’s game. He muscles the ball, jumps into it, hits completely open, and has been known to leave out a few adjustment steps along the way. The result is a violently erratic game. One minute he can hit the most jaw-dropping return of serve, from above his head, while moving in the other direction; then he can plunk four straight routine backhands into the net. That’s Jo: Great to watch, nerve-wracking to play, joyful and exasperating to root for. These two weeks were a step forward, and whether or not he follows up on them on a consistent basis, Tsonga still gave us the most exhilarating tennis of the tournament in his three winning sets over Federer. They were as stunning, in a good way, as his 133 m.p.h. missed second serve was today, in a bad way.
Tsonga himself was pleased with how he went out. “I can beat anyone today,” he said afterward, “except Djokovic. . . . He was everywhere."
He played well enough, in other words, to beat anyone but the world No. 1. With this win, Djokovic took over the top spot for the first time; it’s also the first time someone not named Federer or Nadal has held that position in more than seven years. A huge moment, a huge achievement, but like any tennis player, it’s reaching the Wimbledon final that is the real fantasy come true.
“It’s something that I always dreamed of,” Djokovic said, “when I started playing tennis. I was always trying to visualize myself on Sunday, the last Sunday of Wimbledon. Being in the Wimbledon final, it's 'the thing' for me."
As good as Djokovic was, it must not have been all that easy for him to visualize this; it virtually goes without saying that he’s the first Serb to make it there. While I was happy to see that Djokovic did have the confidence deep down to overcome his nerves and fears, I like him because of those nerves and fears as well. The thoughts of himself on the final Sunday must have crept into his head, because he remained vulnerable until the very end today. Up a break in the middle of the fourth set, Djokovic threw a backhand into the net that was heavy with anxiety, and then rolled his shoulders to get the tightness out. “I tried to talk to myself on the changeovers,” he said, “and tried to focus and be calm and hold my emotions.”
When he finally won, Djokovic went down straight onto his back—he couldn't hold them any longer. “When I finished the match,” Djokovic said, “I didn’t know how to show my emotions.”
The world No. 1, for all of his wins this year, was in new territory. He didn’t know how to act. How many of us do when we’re dreaming?
