The Wolf in Winter: Novak Djokovic's Last War
At 39, with 24 Grand Slam titles and a body that is starting to fail him, Novak Djokovic still refuses to leave the stage. The new documentary about him returns to his childhood under the bombings in Belgrade, to the anger that became fuel, and to the pursuit of the love that Federer and Nadal received naturally. Now, at his 20th US Open, only one question remains: is there one more title left in him?
"I was surprised to see how dark and angry Novak has to be to go out there and win" (Andre Agassi, from the documentary "Novak Djokovic: The Wolf in Winter"). When Novak Djokovic takes the court tonight for the first round of his 20th US Open, against Mariano Navone of Argentina, he will be greeted with thunderous applause. The greatest tennis player of all time, in what may be his final appearance at Flushing Meadows, will finally feel an embrace from the crowd in New York. Appreciation and respect for a career and achievements that have very few parallels in the history of individual sports, but it will not be an embrace of love. New York gave that to Roger Federer when he returned to Arthur Ashe Stadium for an exhibition match. It will give that to Rafael Nadal if he ever returns. In any case, Djokovic always preferred to be respected above all else.
Nole is currently ranked fifth in the world, despite being 39 and participating in very few tournaments. This is also because men's tennis beyond Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz is in crisis, and because in the tournaments where he does play, Djokovic is still better than almost everyone. He reached at least the semifinals in six of the last seven Grand Slam tournaments, and in January became the oldest in history to reach the final of the Australian Open.
With his remaining strength
"Why do you want me to retire if I can still win?" he asks in the new Amazon Prime documentary. It's a good question, but an even better question is: "Why does Djokovic, the record holder for Grand Slam titles, the greatest tennis player ever, whose whole body aches and whose children miss him, feel that he still cannot retire?" The film by director Jason Hehir — of the fame of the series "The Last Dance" — is an excellent service for new tennis fans. It gives a bird's-eye view of how the one who won 24 Grand Slam titles grew up and was shaped, and wants number 25, which will give him exclusive first place of all time above Margaret Court.
What the film does do is remind us how we got here. Novak, it's easy to forget, is a child who grew up in war. Until the age of four, he was just a Yugoslav toddler, and then the sky fell on him for almost a decade. He once told the program "60 Minutes" that "for two and a half months of NATO attacks, we woke up every night at two or three in the morning to run to the shelter, but I prefer to remember that we didn't have to go to school and we played more tennis". To these war traumas were added the ricochets: a collapsing economy and parents who decided to bet everything they had on the little boy who seemed to have great talent.
The war in the Balkans shaped every corner of Djokovic's existence. Everything seen in the last 20 years on the tennis court is a result of it. The anger, the defiance, the constant feeling of "the whole world is against me", the self-doubts that do not disappear even from the heights of Mount Rushmore on which he sits today. With all this baggage, Nole arrived in a sport that has very few stories of "my athletic talent saved me from a bad fate". The establishment of the professional tour did not like him from the beginning. His imitations were received as "disrespect" from a player who had not yet won anything. And when he started winning, they resented him even more. The world loved Federer and Nadal, and the rivalry between them was both gladiatorial and romantic. Djokovic was not supposed to be there and he felt it. It only angered him even more. As Michael Jordan, the hero of Jason Hehir's previous famous project, said, he took it personally. Only this time it was really personal.
Physically, Novak is a rare creation. At the beginning of his career, he was tired all the time, broke down quickly, retired from matches and could not reach the fitness levels of Federer and Nadal. As these cases multiplied, so did the skepticism of the crowd and his rivals on the tour, who thought he was acting. Although Djokovic is indeed not free of antics on the court, he was not acting. He had many physical problems, which eventually turned out to be mainly due to improper nutrition. From that moment on, he built himself into a monster. Professional tennis is easily the hardest individual sport. It requires the abilities of a 10,000-meter runner, a shot putter, a soccer player, and a gymnast. Once Djokovic decided he was ready for all these sacrifices, plus yoga, meditation, and psychological counseling, he became unstoppable.
At 39, Djokovic is still better than Federer was at that age, but that doesn't mean his body isn't broken. When he lost this month in the second round of the Cincinnati tournament, it was clear that he was struggling to breathe before he collapsed in the center of the court. For people who believe in symbolism, it might have been a hint to retire. From Djokovic's point of view, this chronic condition is just another defiance of life that he needs to silence. The tennis court was Djokovic's therapy all his life — "this is my identity, this is what defines me" — and the fear of what will happen to him without it is probably still too great. And maybe the answer is much simpler: he really believes he has one more Grand Slam title in him, and who can argue with that?
