The Rally: How would a calendar-year Grand Slam by Novak Djokovic  compare to similar feats of excellence in other sports?

WATCH: Djokovic gets three-quarters of the way to a calendar-year Grand Slam at Wimbledon.

Hi Steve,

With the US Open starting soon, the big story is Novak Djokovic’s quest to win the calendar-year Grand Slam. No man has done that since Rod Laver in 1969.

It’s fascinating to think about how Novak’s potential achievement compares to great feats in other sports. I want to discuss that, but as a start, I’m intrigued to compare and contrast Djokovic and Laver. It’s staggering to think of all that’s changed in tennis and the world these last 52 years—and, what hasn’t.

Back then: white clothes, white balls, three majors on grass, serve-and-volley tennis on first and second serves, wood racquets (though metal racquets began to surface in 1967), no chairs on changeovers, no tiebreakers. And let’s not even talk about how much less money there was in the game then.

But for all those differences, what Laver and Djokovic share is the challenge of hardcore competition against an ambitious and skilled set of rivals. Given the distance of time and the ways Laver has been justifiably celebrated, one can be deluded into thinking he simply dominated his peers. But a closer look reveals it was no cakewalk. In the early rounds of Roland Garros and Wimbledon, he faced situations where he was down two sets to love.

Laver had to play longer sets, but Djokovic has to play longer points. Laver had to deal with the unpredictability of often-bumpy grass at three of the events; Djokovic has had to show off his mastery of three different surfaces.

The lack of tiebreakers also figured into the mix. Laver played sets of 18-16 versus Fred Stolle, 13-11 against Roy Emerson and 14-12 with Arthur Ashe. He won all three. In the semis of the Australian Open, Laver beat fellow lefty Aussie Tony Roche by the mind-boggling score of 7-5, 22-20, 9-11, 1-6, 6-3. The second set alone was the equivalent of four standard sets.

But the most interesting data point to me is that of the 26 matches Laver won at the majors that year, 16 came versus future Hall of Famers—a murderer’s row that included Roche, Stolle, Ashe, Ken Rosewall, John Newcombe, Roy Emerson, Stan Smith and Dennis Ralston. Granted, for all the ways we talk about competition growing deeper each year, for Laver to problem-solve his way past each of those tricky opponents was surely not easy.

I’m also struck by the rapid-fire speed of most points of that serve-volley era, and the tension that creates. Mess up on a first volley, fail to make a service return on break point—and an entire set could vanish just like that.

Steve, what’s notable to you about today’s tennis compared to Laver’s time? And how do you think Novak’s feat compares with athletes from other sports?

Hi Joel,

Your list of the differences between tennis in 1969 and 2021 makes me think this sport is not quite as conservative and unchanging as many people believe. It’s almost as if the game has turned completely around, and the challenges that a player like Djokovic faces are exactly the opposite of those that Laver faced.

Laver had to play longer sets, but Djokovic has to play longer points. Laver had to fend off, as you say, a murderer’s row of fellow Aussies; Djokovic, at 34, has had to fend off Rafael Nadal, the best of all time on clay, and a rising generation of future Slam winners who are a decade younger than he is. Laver had to deal with the unpredictability of often-bumpy grass at three of the events; Djokovic has had to show off his mastery of three different surfaces. To me, the challenge and the accomplishment, if Djokovic can manage to win the US Open, will be equivalent.

Before I get to other sports, I’ll just mention that there have been two other calendar-year Grand Slams since Laver’s, by Margaret Court in 1970 and Steffi Graf in 1988. One thing we can say is that Laver and Djokovic couldn’t match Court and Graf for dominance: Court lost just three sets over the four Slams, and Graf just two. When we talk about all-time great single seasons, it’s tough to top those.

Tennis players mostly don’t play on teams. Even when they do represent their nation, in the game itself, they must take every shot, face every pitch, play every minute of the game.

It’s interesting to look beyond tennis and stack the calendar-year Slam up against other sporting accomplishments. The only direct comparison I can think of is with golf, which also has four majors, and also has a theoretical Grand Slam, which has never been won on the men’s side. Tiger Woods won four straight over two seasons, and Jack Nicklaus came within three strokes of it one year, but right now it seems farther out of reach than ever.

What does the calendar-year Grand Slam represent? On the one hand, perfection. In the context of American men’s sports, you might compare it to the flawless runs of the Miami Dolphins in 1972, or the Indiana Hoosiers’ basketball team in 1976. It’s interesting that, like Laver’s Slam, neither of those perfect seasons has been matched in the four decades since. Even the greatest teams and athletes usually can’t win them all.

But a calendar-year Grand Slam isn’t exactly the same as a perfect season. Laver lost 16 matches in 1969, and Djokovic has lost five times this year. The calendar-year Slam is really about winning when it matters most. That describes virtually every all-time champion in every sport, but for some reason, right now, it makes me think of the great U.S. basketball player Bill Russell. He won state titles in high school; he won NCAA titles in college; he won an Olympic gold medal; he won 11 NBA titles. Just as Russell won at every level, Djokovic has won on three different surfaces at the majors this year. And just as Russell has long defined what it means to be a winner in professional American sports, Djokovic will, very soon, define what it means to be a winner in men’s tennis.

What other sporting accomplishments does the Slam make you think of, Joel, and how does it compare?

Steve,

How intriguing it is to see how tennis compares to other sports. This is a fun discussion, not because it proves anything conclusively so much as it illuminates the specific challenges that accompany dominance in a particular sport.

Team sports and individual sports are so different. Russell’s tremendously successful career in basketball might be the greatest sporting achievement ever. But does it solely belong to him? Other basketball greats who enter the picture in a somewhat more singular way: Oscar Robertson and Russell Westbrook, each of whom averaged a triple-double across an entire season. Westbrook has done that an incredible four times.

Boxer Rocky Marciano went 49-0. Then there’s Edwin Moses, the track legend who between 1977 and 1987 won 122 straight races. Perhaps in some ways, those marks are akin to the 105-3 record Nadal has achieved at Roland Garros. Then again, they took place over a long period and were not compressed into one year.

Here’s a historical nugget from baseball. In 1966, the Baltimore Orioles’ Frank Robinson led the American League in batting average, home runs and runs-batted-in—the Triple Crown. Only twice has that been done since. But Robinson remains the last TC’er to also play on a team that won the World Series. The point here is not to invoke Davis Cup when assessing Djokovic, but instead to point out how Robinson’s achievement was not merely individual, but also greatly aided his team’s competitive status—a perfect match of singular success and collective glory.

Of course, tennis players mostly don’t play on teams. Even when they do represent their nation, in the game itself, they must take every shot, face every pitch, play every minute of the game. Novak’s potential achievement provides an excellent opportunity to see tennis in its full glory.

Related to the Grand Slam, let’s have a little fun. Take the five people who’ve won it—Laver, Graf, Court, as well as Don Budge and Maureen Connolly. Many times, I’ve thought about their playing styles and who I’d like to see them play from other eras. For example, take the baseline power of Connolly versus the all-court prowess of Justine Henin. Or Budge going up against the lefty versatility of John McEnroe.

What are some matchups you might want to see, Steve? Is there a great from the past you’d be intrigued to take on Djokovic?

Joel,

For me, the most intriguing cross-era matchup right now is the most obvious one: Djokovic vs. Laver. From Djokovic’s perspective, he’s never had to face a left-handed serve-and-volleyer of Laver’s quickness and quality, one who would relentlessly pressure him and not let him do what he does best, rally from the baseline. From Laver’s perspective, he never had to swing his serve into a backhand return as lethal as Djokovic’s. The one player of his era who used a two-handed backhand, Cliff Drysdale, was also the player who thumped Laver over the fourth and fifth sets of their round-of-16 match at the 1968 US Open, 6-1, 6-1.

Let me go back to my Djokovic-Russell analogy for a minute. You’re right that other basketball players, such as Robertson and Westbrook, have been more spectacular individually, and that athletes in team sports can rely on their teammates to help them, in a way that tennis players can’t. The thing that impresses me about Russell is that he won with entirely different teams at each level he played, and that he won a title virtually every year he played. He was obviously the crucial variable on all of those squads, and he must have had the power to make his teammates better. Russell wasn’t the highest scorer, or the all-time top rebounder—those individual honors went to his rival Wilt Chamberlain—and he didn’t have highlight-reel moves. He was just the best winner. Djokovic doesn’t have the most powerful serve or forehand, or the most beautiful game. But like Russell, he’s the best winner.

Just as Russell won at every level, Djokovic has won on three different surfaces at the majors this year.

Let me finish by looking at another category of athlete, one that appears in all sports, and one that Djokovic will hope to avoid joining in New York: The close-but-no-cigar club. These are the players or teams who have dominated a season but stumbled at the finish line. In recent years, we’ve seen the New England Patriots go undefeated but lose the Super Bowl, and the Golden State Warriors break the regular-season win record only to lose in the NBA Finals. Going back a few decades, there’s the specter of Dan Gable, a wrestler at Iowa who won 117 straight matches, but lost his last one, which happened to be for the NCAA title.

We’ve seen this phenomenon in tennis, when other players have come to New York with a chance to win a calendar-year Grand Slam. In 1933, Jack Crawford of Australia won the first three majors and led Fred Perry in the final at Forest Hills two sets to one, before tiring and losing the last two sets badly. In 1956, Lew Hoad came to Forest Hills with a chance at the Slam, only to lose to his friend Ken Rosewall in the final. And in 2015, as we all remember, Serena Williams won the first three legs before falling to Roberta Vinci in one of the all-time upsets in the semifinals.

There’s a special pressure, in every sport, that comes with trying to close out an historical accomplishment. Overcoming it will make Djokovic’s Slam another one for the ages.