I woke up to the Toronto live scoreboard reading 6-3, 3-3 in favor of Andy Murray, and I felt like everything was right with the world.
Then I played doubles with some new friends at the Rizal Memorial Tennis Courts (there’d be no war if everyone loved tennis and played matches as a way to settle disputes), thoroughly enjoyed myself and came home to the uplifting news that Nole had, indeed, succumbed to Murray after the second set tiebreak (final score, 6-3, 7-6 (3)).
It’s no secret that I don’t care for Novak Djokovic.
From the first time he burst onto the scene, he never excited me or compelled me to watch his matches. For me, his form seems so generic and technical that it’s the visual equivalent of background noise.
I’m not saying he’s not a good player. He’s number three in the world, he is a threat on hardcourts, he is a “complete” player according to the journalists, he is incredibly talented, etc. But, for me, when I see him on, he’s either incredibly boring or completely aggravating.
Folks, I have found my true-blue personal tennis villain.
Sure, there are bad boys of tennis, like Marat Safin. But Safin is a lovable goon with heart-melting good looks — who can really hate him? And Roger. Much as I try to hate him as the rival of Rafa, I just can’t. His grace, skill and genius are of historical proportions and simply undeniable.
Nole, however, fits my criteria for a tennis villain perfectly: mischievous, arrogant about his talent, confrontational, aggressive, and armed with a bag of tricks he won’t hesitate to use to get ahead. And don’t get me started with his Entourage of Evil.
Objectively speaking, Nole has done nothing wrong. He’s an up-and-coming tennis player who just joined the Big Leagues, trying to keep his place. He has a sense of humor about the sport and its stars. I actually like his imitations. But it’s difficult for me to like him when I’ve heard him spout less than gracious words about his opponents, when I’ve seen him gloat so ungracefully after defeating Federer at the Australian Open 2008 (I’m not a Roger fan, but even that attitude I won’t stand for), when I’ve witnessed these arbitrary injury time-outs to distract the opponent and shift momentum — tactics he’s used even on one of his closest friends (now ex-friend), Gael Monfils.
First impressions last, Mr. Nole, and this is where people draw their convenient categorizations and personal stereotypes from. The first impression is when fans like me decide whether you’re a goodie or a baddie. Because for all of tennis’ emotional range and colorful characters, its followers inadvertently pick sides.
Chances are, unless you’re Serbian, you would probably see Novak Djokovic as I do: an unlovable villain who occasionally poses a threat to the kingdom of Rafa and Roger.
I like my goodies and hate my baddies. And right now, Djokovic is my favorite baddie. Every self-respecting tennis fan has one. Novak is mine, and I will love to hate him for a long time.
And he has just been kicked out of Toronto Masters by Andy Murray. Commence the dance of joy.
1 Comment
August 4, 2008 at 10:16 pm
[...] dream with andy murray Jump to Comments After Rafa’s loss to my personal tennis villain Novak Djokovic, I knew that Andy Murray was going to the Cincinnati [...]