–How did you feel to see that the public sided with Alcaraz and booed you for celebrating your points against such a diminished rival?
Novak Djokovic, until then relaxed in front of the press, backs down, puts on a poker face and changes his tone.
And staring at his interlocutor, he says:
I don't care if they boo me. I keep winning.
And there the debate ends.
(...)
Djokovic, 36 years old, already has 22 Grand Slam titles in his record, has gray hair in his soul and needs to be loved.
When he wins a match, Djokovic greets the public that watches him from the four cardinal points. If he prevails at Wimbledon, he gets down on one knee, pulls up the grass and chews on it. When he talks about a rival, Alcaraz himself, without going any further, gives him his ears.
“Alcaraz is going to win many times at Roland Garros,” he says.
But hot...
On hot, he signs on the television camera and writes:
–Kosovo is the heart of Serbia. Stop the violence.
Or he throws a pitch at a linesman and finds himself thrown out of a competition. Or he organizes a charity tournament in Serbia and breaks the protocols and ends up spreading the virus everywhere. Or he confronts the Australian government, actually the entire world, because he intends to compete in the Australian Open without having been vaccinated.
His essence makes him a Shakespearean being, perhaps the most successful male tennis player in history (he is one step away: today at 3:00 p.m., against Casper Ruud, he is looking for his 23rd major), but also the most misunderstood.
