PARIS—What does it take for U.S. sports fans to take notice of a tennis player? In the case of Novak Djokovic, who has been world No. 3 for a considerable stretch while still remaining below the spectating radar of most Americans, it’s the numbers. We love our numbers in the States. It’s no accident that baseball is our national pastime; no other sport relies so heavily on statistics, rather than anything that happens on the field, for its appeal. In the case of Djokovic, of course, it’s just one number that people are talking about—37 straight wins to open 2011—but it’s enough to get us talking tennis. Djokovic has entered the general sports conversation.
In the U.S. we know Roger Federer well and have gotten used to Rafael Nadal. Djokovic hasn’t come out of nowhere, exactly, but the extent of his dominance certainly has. The straight-set wins over Federer, the straight-set wins—on clay—over Nadal, how is this happening? Those of us who have followed the sport for more than the last five months know that there are several very good and understandable reasons for the Djokovic juggernaut. We always knew that, with his speed, flexibility, and all-around ball striking skills, he had a future-of-tennis type game; three years ago Djokovic appeared to be on the verge of doing what he’s doing now, breaking the Federer-Nadal chokehold on the top of the rankings.
More recently, Djokovic has changed his diet, lost weight, and, for the moment, solved his longstanding breathing and stamina problems. On Friday, though, Djokovic downgraded the importance of his new gluten freedom slightly. “It’s a part of the puzzle, let’s say,” he told reporters at the French Open. “It’s not the most important thing that happened to me.” He credited his support team with the biggest boost. “We have a great understanding, and everybody’s doing their job really well. Success comes with it.”
But there’s another, less-obvious piece of this puzzle, one that’s a little more speculative than fitness and ball-striking and gluten, but which is still worth, well, speculating about. He isn't asked about it much anymore, but in the months after Serbia’s Davis Cup win last December, Djokovic was peppered with questions about what it meant to him and how it might have sparked his current streak. He was still answering those questions, with a mix of smiling relish and tolerant patience, as late as Indian Wells in March.
Djokovic said then that doing his part and winning the Cup with his teammates, and in front of their fans, had made the tennis court a more enjoyable place to be in general. The feeling, the positivity—the glow—of that weekend carried over to his practice sessions and matches to start the next season, and he played some of his most confident and impressive tennis of 2011 right off the bat, at the Hopman Cup and the Australian Open. There was also something different about the way that Djokovic played his two Davis Cup singles matches, both of which were straight-set victories. He was calm and purposeful, rather than edgy with submerged frustration, which is how he often played the sport in the past. The team aspect meant that he wasn’t just playing for himself. It meant that he couldn’t lose it mentally or pull the plug if things didn’t go well. He had to stay in there, for the boys, for the fans. Davis Cup will do this: It has brought out the best in men like Marat Safin or David Nalbandian, talented players who are far bigger head cases than Djokovic.
There’s been something of that same calm purpose in Djokovic ever since. He still gets edgy, but now, at the point when he used to smash his racquet or start swinging for the fences, he goes back to work. Down 4-5 in the third in the Rome semifinals, with Andy Murray serving for the match, Djokovic hit out, but he also stayed composed. He seemed more relaxed than resigned or exasperated. He broke and won the match.
When Djokovic first broke onto the scene in 2006 and 2007, he was a brash young man filled with world-beating confidence. At that time, he and his family toyed with an offer from the British LTA to leave Serbia and play Davis Cup for Great Britain. Djokovic knew that federation money and sponsorship opportunities flow more easily to Americans and Western Europeans than they do to players from his neck of the commercial woods. Djokovic wasn’t content with second-fiddle status in any way. He told us he was going to be No. 1, and he changed racquet companies in part to become Head’s signature endorsee rather than stay in the same Wilson stable as Roger Federer.
But along with that brashness, Djokovic also showed a surprising tendency toward fragility. He developed unexpected mid-match ailments and was quick to throw in the towel if things weren’t going his way. He DQ-ed a quarterfinal at the French Open to Rafael Nadal in 2006 after going down two sets, and, even more strangely, a semifinal to Rafa at Wimbledon in 2007 in which he walked off the court smiling and raising his arms to the crowd.
No more. These days Djokovic stays and fights and doesn’t let his himself or his team of supporters down. You can’t get ill, get hurt, lose your cool, or walk off the court during a 37-match winning streak. If he doesn’t quite have the fearsome, court-stalking calm that he showed in Davis Cup, there’s still an echo of it in the self-asured way that he tugs at his shirt, eyes his opponent, and gets set to return serve. Even in his return games, he’s the guy on the attack, making things happen, using all of that future-of-tennis talent that, underneath the bouts of frustration, he always knew he had.
Novak Djokovic, version I, was a brash kid who wanted to conquer the bigger world. He never made it as far as he thought he would in the rankings or at the Slams. Novak Djokovic, version II, carried his small country to victory and used that triumph to find his own best tennis—he’s won a major, is the favorite to win a second, will almost certainly fulfill his long-deferred prophecy of becoming No. 1, and, with his win streak, he has become a star in the West at last. You have to think that, along with the gluten and the weight-loss, along with the improved serve and forehand, that there’s another big piece of the Djokovic puzzle that has fallen into place. He’s found a team to play for. He’s come home.
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