Novak Djokovic, The (More) Perfect Player

In 2007, TENNIS.com’s Peter Bodo wrote a prescient blog post, “The Perfect Player,” calling attention to a then-19-year old Novak Djokovic and his remarkably well-balanced game. It became a widely disseminated and oft-cited article that, given the premise of the story, left a juicy question dangling: where do you go from “perfect?”

Here, some 16 years later, we asked him to revisit that post asking what, if anything, has changed in the intervening years?—The editors

NEW YORK—Following Novak Djokovic throughout his career has been a little bit like watching a museum-grade black-and-white photograph being developed in the darkroom of a master photographer. The photo paper with the latent image is slipped into a chemical bath and gradually a picture emerges, sometimes so slowly that you don’t notice how substantially the final image differs from the rough, early outlines.

So it goes with Djokovic, the all-time men’s Grand Slam singles champion and No. 2 seed at this US Open. Much about the 36-year-old paragon’s game and person is similar to what it was 16-plus years ago—in some cases, improbably so. But much has changed as well.

Djokovic’s elasticity and long, loose limbs are still those of an ideal athletic body. He still has a marvelous economy of motion. The eye-catching trunk-and-shoulder rotation and quick feet he first displayed back in 2007 remain striking today. Djokovic had some rough edges back then, but they have been painstakingly smoothed out, burr by burr. Once prone to outbursts of anger, he now uses adversity as fuel.

Novak isn’t just a ferocious competitor, he also became the guy who left no stone unturned. Paul Annacone

Djokovic reveled in baseline rallies from the jump, but who knew that he would learn how to use them to build an empire on his grit, consistency and pain—both his own, as well as that of his opponents?

“Novak just keeps letting the pressure build in rallies, little by little,” ESPN analyst James Blake observed during one of Djokovic’s early-round US Open matches. “He’s never in a hurry until he needs to be.”

It’s a subtle observation that speaks to the almost leisurely way Djokovic can break down an opponent. It’s the product of years of discipline, years of experimentation and on-the-fly decision making.

“To stay 36 years old and to keep doing the same things that he did at 20, that’s incredible,” top-seeded Carlos Alcaraz said a few days ago at Flushing Meadows, referring to Djokovic’s consistency and stamina. Alcaraz also told how, suspecting the repeat of a familiar tale, he turned off the television shortly after Djokovic’s compatriot Laslo Djere won the first two sets of their third-round US Open collision last week.

“When I go to bed, I was thinking Novak is going to come back, that’s for sure,” said Alcaraz. “He has come back from two sets to love down like, six, seven times. So it's something crazy.”

Something crazy is right.

Djokovic still retains the lean physique of his teen-age years, a jaw worthy of a Marine drill sergeant, and even that jet black, aerodynamic haircut that is now lightly flecked with gray. He has demonstrated otherworldly consistency on Grand Slam stages in two different time periods:

From 2011 to 2016, Djokovic finished champion or runner-up in 18 of the 24 majors.

From Wimbledon 2018 to now: Djokovic finished champion or runner-up in 14 of the 19 majors he entered in, and in 9 of the last 10.

When I go to bed, I was thinking Novak is going to come back, that’s for sure. Carlos Alcaraz, after Djokovic lost first two sets of his third-round match against Laslo Djere

This is the same player who, as a precocious teen-ager, withdrew from his very first meeting with Rafael Nadal (a French Open quarterfinal in 2006) after losing the first two sets, citing respiratory problems. He then bemoaned the lost opportunity, claiming that despite the scoreline he felt “in control of the match.”

And who can forget the way Andy Roddick called out Djokovic in 2008 for broadcasting his injuries on a regular basis and allegedly weaponizing the injury time-out rule, calling on it when he needed to regroup. Roddick said of Djokovic’s injuries: “It’s just a lot. He’s either quick to call the trainer—or he’s the most courageous guy of all time.” Djokovic was a callow youth then, halfway along to a reputation as a prima donna with a dazzling backhand and dark stubble on his chin.

Things would soon change, though, thanks partly to the fire Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal lit in their junior rival. By the end of the 2010 season, Djokovic still had just one major title (the 2008 Australian Open) to show for 24 Grand Slam appearances. By contrast, Federer already had 16, Nadal 9. For Djokovic, those were years for seasoning and close encounters of the Grand Slam kind, but he was still the third-wheel in the “Fedal” rivalry.

Matured by frustration, Djokovic soon realized that if he didn’t transform himself into a beast, he’d be left behind. The recipe he hit upon as a cure consisted of equal parts determination, curiosity, mindfulness and dedication.

“Novak isn’t just a ferocious competitor, he also became the guy who left no stone unturned,” Tennis Channel analyst Paul Annacone told me, referring to Djokovic’s unending investigations into nutrition, fitness, mental and emotional growth and even quirky, religion-free spirituality. “We harp so much on Novak’s tenacity now, and on his ability to compete under pressure and to fight hard that sometimes we forget about his evolution, the way he became a student of the game and grew his own weaponry has largely gone unsung.”

After defeating Fritz in the US Open quarterfinals, Djokovic reflected on how he’s kept pace with the changes dictated by his career and family.

“I have to have an approach that is different from what it was 10 years ago,” he said, “I have had to adapt. I have a lot of people around me, in terms of medical [needs], fitness and physiotherapy, and kinesiology to make sure that my body is in shape to compete at the highest level.

“It’s important to address everything holistically, [in a] multidisciplinary [way], because then you will just be more prepared. You will have more tools that you can use in a given moment.”

Speaking of those tools, over the years Djokovic’s serve has improved markedly from the original, adequate but unthreatening model. Don’t let the way Djokovic still lines up, like a plastic toy soldier, fool you—the shot is dangerous.

Brad Gilbert, currently coaching Coco Gauff and working as an analyst for ESPN, has noted that in 2009, the year after Djokovic won his first major, he experienced major serving woes. He hit nadir in 2010, a year in which he stuck 335 aces, but also 208 double faults.

Those numbers won’t knock your socks off, nor will the average speed of Djokovic’s first serve (it’s in the 120 m.p.h. range). But most experts agree that he’s great at hitting his targets to set the stage for the kind of point he wants to play—a facility that Djokovic in more recent years has taken to a high level. Gilbert calls him a “dime” server for the obvious reason.

“The change in his effectiveness from 2009 has been just incredible,” Gilbert said.

Nor is Djokovic’s forehand the same shot it was back in the day. It was once the wing that an opponent attacked. Now Annacone now calls it Djokovic’s “kill shot.” Djokovic ventured forth as a shaky volleyer—tentative at best—but that’s no longer the case. The points he constructs now feature the appropriate punctuation mark they once lacked.

“It’s remarkable, what Novak has added to his offense,” Blake said. “His defense was always great, but it’s amazing how much he has added to his offense at such a late stage in his career.”

Naturally, once Djokovic entered his 30s, people began asking him how he thinks he would fare against the 20-something Djokovic who dominated tennis between 2011 and 2016. The question was put to him most recently by ESPN analyst Renee Stubbs, in an on-court interview last week.

“Easy, easy, no problems,” Djokovic replied, grinning. “Straight sets for me, the 36-year old.”

He then turned serious.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to play myself. But I do. Every single match. I play myself the most, and if I win this battle I will also win the battle with my opponent.”