Post by davis on Sept 6, 2008 11:02:09 GMT 3
Nole's Best Impersonation Yet
Posted 09/05/2008 @ 12 :30 PM
Were you starting to worry about Novak Djokovic? Were you starting to wonder what had happened to the unshakable, unaccountable confidence that had led to his meteoric rise up the rankings in 2007 and a title at the first major of 2008?
Maybe worry is too strong a word. Even through some of his more puzzling performances this summer, I knew the guy was the real thing, that he was no second-tier flash in the pan, no David Nalbandian. But he seemed unsure of himself, now that he had become the hunted rather than the hunter. Djokovic had loudly proclaimed himself to be a future No. 1 player, but, despite his success, it hadn’t quite happened. He was beaten to the brass ring by Rafael Nadal and had spent the last few months in a netherworld at No. 3. Djokovic was no longer climbing and improving, but at the same time he hadn’t gained that king of the hill aura that comes with being No. 1 and champion of the French Open and Wimbledon.
Hence the final in Cincinnati, where Djokovic, struggling with his forehand against Andy Murray, seemed to play both to win and lose at the same time. Hence the Olympic semifinals, where he made the most embarrassing error imaginable (or unimaginable)—chunking a sitter overhead 5 feet wide—when he was down match point to Nadal, ending his chances for a gold medal for the next four years. Hence the rising frustration when he couldn't blow out lower-ranked players, the tendency to throw caution to the wind at crucial moments, the injury issues that seemed designed to alleviate the mental burdens of competition. I had once written that Djokovic was, above all else, “good at winning,” that his biggest advantage was that, when it mattered, he simply didn’t miss. I wasn’t sure anymore: When it mattered most these days, he no longer tightened up his game. His risked everything.
After last night, I’d say Djokovic owes Andy Roddick a big thank you. It took Roddick’s joking words about the Serb’s seeming hypochondria—Roddick said he might be suffering from SARS, who knows—to bring back his old one-track competitive drive and help him channel his anger at something outside of himself. I was struck by how Djokovic walked on court and how he carried himself in the early stages of the match: Rather than staring upward in disbelief and distraction, the way he has so often lately, he kept his head down and his expressions in check. He even looked patient. Djokovic was on his rival’s home court—I’ve rarely seen Ashe more overtly partisan—which made him, despite his higher ranking, the hunter again.
Judging from his level of play last night, the role suits him. This was the Djokovic who is committed at all times to changing the direction of the ball. Like his fellow Serb, Jelena Jankovic, he specializes in the down-the-line ground stroke; like her, it functions the way the crosscourt does for most other players, as a way of opening up the court. Most great players advance the sport in some way, and the change of direction and ability to pull the trigger on the down the line at any time is one of Djokovic’s contributions—this is something Andre Agassi could do, but Djokovic does it with more abandon and firepower. He can end a point from anywhere, and over the high part of the net. You may have heard your teaching pro tell you to hit the ball crosscourt nine times out 10. If so, and if it’s working for you, I wouldn’t recommend watching Novak Djokovic. You might think your pro is lying so you have to keep coming back for lessons, and that the real way to play tennis is simply to hit the ball in any direction you want, regardless of how high the net is.
For the most part, Djokovic didn’t have to do much more than return Roddick’s serve—the fact that he adjusted and blocked the ball back with his forehand slice made me think right away that he was serious about winning this one—and keep the ball deep and down the middle. He didn’t think Roddick could hurt him, and he was right for the first two sets. Once a rally began, Djokovic inevitably found himself inside the baseline, while Roddick was forced to move the same distance behind his. Djokovic’s patience was also on display in his serving. He made the effort to mix up his spins and placement more than I’d seen him do recently. His kick in particular gave Roddick fits; he made awkward leaps at the ball as he struggled to get his two-handed backhand up and into position for it. It’s been said that you’re only as good as your second serve. This is true in part because if you have a good second serve, you’ve made yourself into a complete player—it’s pretty much the last shot anyone practices, besides perhaps the return of serve. The bite Djokovic gets on his is deceptive. Because of it, his second serve is one of the few in the game that you could call a weapon in its own right.
The crowd, which included Jimmy Connors decked out in an unfortunate beige day suite—still, with Jimbo, it’s the effort we love—helped keep Roddick’s spirits up to start the third set. He got back in the match basically because he stopped missing; it’s amazing how consistent the guy can be. Roddick built on his momentum in the fourth, to the point where he began firing his forehand flat and into the corners like it was 2003 all over again. He broke Djokovic with a shocking, Connors-like backhand down-the-line winner. It looked like USA Network would get one last five-setter before it packed up its cameras after 25 years at Flushing Meadows.
But the night crowd and atmosphere can only do so much when you're facing a focused and more talented player. Roddick uncharacterisically double-faulted twice—was he finally too juiced up by his favorite court?—and Djokovic grabbed the match back with some brilliant defense. It may be dangerous, but I love his sliding, open-stance, flick backhand, which he uses to respond to a big shot from his opponent, and which keeps him from having to float the ball back when he’s on the run. Djokovic, good at winning once again, hit a topspin lob winner to break and tightened up his game in the tiebreaker to end the match.
What did you think of the post-match drama? Djokovic admitted to being motivated by Roddick’s remarks, and by the crowd, who he said thought he was “faking everything.” USA went off the air for the final time in a sea of boos and negative feelings. This was 180 degrees from a year ago, when Djokovic had charmed New York with his impersonations. Somehow though, I enjoyed this more. Djokovic was overreacting to Roddick’s joke (and he said as much later), but at least he was honest about how he felt. After all the relentless hype about the glory of the Open at night that Ted Robinson has forced on us for all these years, it was very funny and fitting—and old-school New York City—to have it end on a dramatically ugly note.
For anyone who cares about the sport, though, this night was about Djokovic doing one more impersonation: of himself, of a guy who, whether you love or hate his quirky, cocky personality, can really, really play tennis. If Federer makes the textbook look elegant, Djokovic, with his uncluttered, blink-and-the-point's-over power from the ground and perfect balance at all times, makes it look sleek. It's an act worth repeating.
Posted 09/05/2008 @ 12 :30 PM
Were you starting to worry about Novak Djokovic? Were you starting to wonder what had happened to the unshakable, unaccountable confidence that had led to his meteoric rise up the rankings in 2007 and a title at the first major of 2008?
Maybe worry is too strong a word. Even through some of his more puzzling performances this summer, I knew the guy was the real thing, that he was no second-tier flash in the pan, no David Nalbandian. But he seemed unsure of himself, now that he had become the hunted rather than the hunter. Djokovic had loudly proclaimed himself to be a future No. 1 player, but, despite his success, it hadn’t quite happened. He was beaten to the brass ring by Rafael Nadal and had spent the last few months in a netherworld at No. 3. Djokovic was no longer climbing and improving, but at the same time he hadn’t gained that king of the hill aura that comes with being No. 1 and champion of the French Open and Wimbledon.
Hence the final in Cincinnati, where Djokovic, struggling with his forehand against Andy Murray, seemed to play both to win and lose at the same time. Hence the Olympic semifinals, where he made the most embarrassing error imaginable (or unimaginable)—chunking a sitter overhead 5 feet wide—when he was down match point to Nadal, ending his chances for a gold medal for the next four years. Hence the rising frustration when he couldn't blow out lower-ranked players, the tendency to throw caution to the wind at crucial moments, the injury issues that seemed designed to alleviate the mental burdens of competition. I had once written that Djokovic was, above all else, “good at winning,” that his biggest advantage was that, when it mattered, he simply didn’t miss. I wasn’t sure anymore: When it mattered most these days, he no longer tightened up his game. His risked everything.
After last night, I’d say Djokovic owes Andy Roddick a big thank you. It took Roddick’s joking words about the Serb’s seeming hypochondria—Roddick said he might be suffering from SARS, who knows—to bring back his old one-track competitive drive and help him channel his anger at something outside of himself. I was struck by how Djokovic walked on court and how he carried himself in the early stages of the match: Rather than staring upward in disbelief and distraction, the way he has so often lately, he kept his head down and his expressions in check. He even looked patient. Djokovic was on his rival’s home court—I’ve rarely seen Ashe more overtly partisan—which made him, despite his higher ranking, the hunter again.
Judging from his level of play last night, the role suits him. This was the Djokovic who is committed at all times to changing the direction of the ball. Like his fellow Serb, Jelena Jankovic, he specializes in the down-the-line ground stroke; like her, it functions the way the crosscourt does for most other players, as a way of opening up the court. Most great players advance the sport in some way, and the change of direction and ability to pull the trigger on the down the line at any time is one of Djokovic’s contributions—this is something Andre Agassi could do, but Djokovic does it with more abandon and firepower. He can end a point from anywhere, and over the high part of the net. You may have heard your teaching pro tell you to hit the ball crosscourt nine times out 10. If so, and if it’s working for you, I wouldn’t recommend watching Novak Djokovic. You might think your pro is lying so you have to keep coming back for lessons, and that the real way to play tennis is simply to hit the ball in any direction you want, regardless of how high the net is.
For the most part, Djokovic didn’t have to do much more than return Roddick’s serve—the fact that he adjusted and blocked the ball back with his forehand slice made me think right away that he was serious about winning this one—and keep the ball deep and down the middle. He didn’t think Roddick could hurt him, and he was right for the first two sets. Once a rally began, Djokovic inevitably found himself inside the baseline, while Roddick was forced to move the same distance behind his. Djokovic’s patience was also on display in his serving. He made the effort to mix up his spins and placement more than I’d seen him do recently. His kick in particular gave Roddick fits; he made awkward leaps at the ball as he struggled to get his two-handed backhand up and into position for it. It’s been said that you’re only as good as your second serve. This is true in part because if you have a good second serve, you’ve made yourself into a complete player—it’s pretty much the last shot anyone practices, besides perhaps the return of serve. The bite Djokovic gets on his is deceptive. Because of it, his second serve is one of the few in the game that you could call a weapon in its own right.
The crowd, which included Jimmy Connors decked out in an unfortunate beige day suite—still, with Jimbo, it’s the effort we love—helped keep Roddick’s spirits up to start the third set. He got back in the match basically because he stopped missing; it’s amazing how consistent the guy can be. Roddick built on his momentum in the fourth, to the point where he began firing his forehand flat and into the corners like it was 2003 all over again. He broke Djokovic with a shocking, Connors-like backhand down-the-line winner. It looked like USA Network would get one last five-setter before it packed up its cameras after 25 years at Flushing Meadows.
But the night crowd and atmosphere can only do so much when you're facing a focused and more talented player. Roddick uncharacterisically double-faulted twice—was he finally too juiced up by his favorite court?—and Djokovic grabbed the match back with some brilliant defense. It may be dangerous, but I love his sliding, open-stance, flick backhand, which he uses to respond to a big shot from his opponent, and which keeps him from having to float the ball back when he’s on the run. Djokovic, good at winning once again, hit a topspin lob winner to break and tightened up his game in the tiebreaker to end the match.
What did you think of the post-match drama? Djokovic admitted to being motivated by Roddick’s remarks, and by the crowd, who he said thought he was “faking everything.” USA went off the air for the final time in a sea of boos and negative feelings. This was 180 degrees from a year ago, when Djokovic had charmed New York with his impersonations. Somehow though, I enjoyed this more. Djokovic was overreacting to Roddick’s joke (and he said as much later), but at least he was honest about how he felt. After all the relentless hype about the glory of the Open at night that Ted Robinson has forced on us for all these years, it was very funny and fitting—and old-school New York City—to have it end on a dramatically ugly note.
For anyone who cares about the sport, though, this night was about Djokovic doing one more impersonation: of himself, of a guy who, whether you love or hate his quirky, cocky personality, can really, really play tennis. If Federer makes the textbook look elegant, Djokovic, with his uncluttered, blink-and-the-point's-over power from the ground and perfect balance at all times, makes it look sleek. It's an act worth repeating.
