RIATH AL-SAMARRAI: Novak Djokovic has earned respect but can’t win love

Love moves in mysterious ways and is there a greater mystery in sports than how love always finds its way past Novak Djokovic?

It lobs over his head, to his sides, through his strings, twisting and kicking and dipping and dodging. A man who can catch anything with his racket just can’t catch a heart.

And what a strange phenomenon that is, because love is omnipresent in tennis. In every game and every set you start with love. But Djokovic rarely finishes it – too pretty to have it on his side of the scoreboard, and seemingly too unappealing to get much from a crowd, especially those gathered around Center Court. Love is something he gives there; it’s not what he takes.

What he has is respect and of course that is different. Perhaps he has more respect than anyone else in the ball game story, and he should, assuming respect can be earned. And who has earned more than Djokovic?

From 2008, when he won his first Australian Open, to now, 15 years later, he has won 23 Slams.

Which brings us to this weekend and the opportunity to earn more. Earn historically. If he beats Carlos Alcaraz in that battle of the ages, he’ll tie Roger Federer’s record of eight Wimbledon titles, and Federer is relevant in this space, for reasons of love we’ll get to.

He would also tie Margaret Court on 24, having already passed the point where his trophies are measured against men only. That’s how great he is, and if we stick to the narrower parameters of greatness, there’s no arguing: he’s the most effective male tennis player we’ve known and by the end of the US Open in September, he’ll probably be the most effective from everyone.

He’s done that in an era more fraught with greatness than any other era, so if you don’t respect that, you don’t respect sports.

But what about love? Because love is not in a balanced equation with numbers of Slams and win ratios against everyone, including Federer or Rafael Nadal.

He was better than both of them in this match – he showed it in the matches they competed in the overlaps of their peak periods. But they were better loved. By far. Then and now, even considering the zeal of some of his social media followers.

You felt it on the first Tuesday of these championships, when Federer was paraded in the Royal Box. He had more cheers and ovations in his cream suit than Djokovic had on Center Court for the entire fortnight. Certainly more than he had in his semi-final against Jannik Sinner on Friday, which was a strange day indeed.

More than a few of that crowd booed him during the game, especially after he objected to a point penalty for growling. That’s a difference between love and respect – this place doesn’t tend to berate the people they love. It can happen occasionally, as Nadal got a little heat for taking an eternity between points against Nick Kyrgios a few years ago.

But Djokovic? It’s another level. He was booed against Cam Norrie here in 2022 and Jordon Thompson this year, as well as against Alejandro Davidovich Fokina and Alcaraz at Roland Garros. Pockets of the disaffected, mostly not of the whole, but they were big pockets for the biggest earner.

And so there’s a pattern and it’s a paradox, because for whatever reason, quality isn’t enough for Djokovic. In that game with Sinner, and every game he plays, he shows why he’s a sports prodigy. He’s much more than a passing wall – he hits some of the most magnificent shots, the kind that even Federer couldn’t pull off, like Friday’s 5-3 in the second inning when he chased a wide ball into goal. splits and hits a backhand winner through the smallest windows down the line. At 36. A remarkable athlete.

Towards the end of it all, it seemed that part of him gave up on the pursuit of love. He cupped his ear and instructed the crowd to dry their weeping eyes. You don’t like me, I don’t care. But he does.

For years we have seen Djokovic scream for something more than respect in this grand place. He eats the grass, he blows kisses, he bows, he swings, he plays great tennis year after year. He says nice things in better English than we speak. Better German, French and Italian too. But on Friday, part of him seemed to accept that he’ll never quite get what he wants. Respect, yes, but not love.

Because respect can come from cold numbers and graphs. Love is about feeling and what do you feel when you see Djokovic play? I’ve written before on this page about the how of tennis rather than the how much and he doesn’t have the same how factor as Federer. Federer’s tennis was imbued with art. Nadal is not that much, but they loved him anyway. He produced those feelings with his willpower, the human measure of how he played.

Perhaps Djokovic’s only shortcoming in this area is that he is not a Federer or Nadal and it is about his otherness. Maybe after all those wonderful matches between Federer and Nadal, it felt like three people were a crowd. Maybe he beat Andy Murray in too many finals. Maybe it’s about looking for the underdog and everyone who plays Djokovic is the underdog. Maybe it’s all a bit of pantomime. Maybe it’s about the vaccines and what he says about purifying polluted water with good thoughts. Maybe it’s unfair to blame him for those things, but love is a feeling and love can be irrational.

Djokovic is an enigma that we can all respect. I can even respect his stance on vaccination – I didn’t agree and I certainly didn’t like it, but I could respect his sticking to his principles at the expense of his sporting career. I can respect a lot about him, from the challenges of his early life in a war zone, to his resilience to succeed in professional sports, and from there to his total dominance of tennis.

If he beats Alcaraz, we’ll all respect him even more. And he will have earned it, as always. But love? That’s a more complicated matter, even in tennis.

The tail wags the dog…

Next weekend looks great – the fourth Ashes Test and The Open. A real treat. But it’s almost nonsense that they collide.

It’s not the first time they’ve run into each other, as it also happened in 2001, 2009, 2013, and 2015, and on each occasion you may have wondered if there’s some scheduling quirk that keeps us from having to choose.

In this particular year, it’s even more frustrating, and options even more limited, because the Ashes were squeezed into a six-week window to allow The Hundred to take pride of place during the school holidays. It’s the one where they dress like chips bags.

Has there been a more absurd case in the sport of the tail wagging the dog?

Alli’s story marks a great success

Even if Dele Alli hadn’t shared his story this week, how could his career ever be considered a failure?

The same goes for anyone who reaches the Premier League after the existence of a football academy during the Hunger Games.

That Alli was able to do this after the upbringing he’d had makes his story an even greater success.