Bill Simons and Vinay Venkatesh
Wimbledon
There was the Battle of the Sexes between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs in 1973. There was the Battle of 1816 between Bjorn Borg beat John McEnroe that featured an epic 18-16 tiebreak. Then came the Battle of the Century when Rafa Nadal beat Roger Federer at Wimbledon in 2008.
Today’s Wimbledon final was the Battle of the Ages Part 2, an intergenerational brawl between Carlos Alcaraz, the 20-year-old natural with a beaming smile, sublime athleticism and a wicked game vs. Novak Djokovic, the battle-hardened GOAT who, now that Roger and Rafa were not in his face, has been devouring a pack of frustrated wannabes. “Carlos is hungry,” quipped Novak Djokovic. “I’m hungry too, let’s have a feast!”
Today’s Wimbledon final between the No. 1 Carlos and the No. 2 Nole had it all.
Alcaraz is the boy of the future who would be a legend. The man from the land of Rafa, who idolized Roger but whose strokes are more like Novak’s, is the most dazzling phenom of the past 15 years and the youngest No. 1 in ATP history, He has cabeza, corazón and cojones (head, heart and balls). Just ask Daniil Medvedev, Holger Rune or Matteo Berrettini. Now he sought to become the first player outside of the Big Four – Nole, Rafa, Roger and Andy Murray – to win Wimbledon since 2002.
But Nole is the Raj of records, and he was going for more records than a hipster about to step into a vinyl store.
Today, the Serb, who was into his 35th Slam final and had won 44 straight Centre Court matches and 15 straight tiebreaks, was hoping to set even more marks: most Grand Slams (24 to equal Margaret Court’s), five straight Wimbledons to tie Federer and Borg, and eight Wimbledon titles to equal Roger.
It barely takes a glance at the Serb to realize the man with a steely glint in his eyes is not exactly a meek warrior. A Beatle from this island, John Lenon, once suggested, “All you need is love.” Tina Turner’s question, “What’s love got to do with it?” is closer to Novak’s ethos. After all, he’s the boy who heard bombs explode, the man who would find himself in an Australian detention center, and who time and again would have to endure crowds who bathed his foes with adulation.
The man about whom Andy Roddick said, “First he takes your legs, then takes your soul,” has seen it all. The man who incredibly has been in 7% of all men’s finals doesn’t hesitate to mock the crowd. He wipes an imaginary tear from his eyes, and teases his foes: “I love to be a part of the next generation….They want a scalp, they want to get a win, but [as Janick Sinner, Andrey Rublev, Herbie Hurkacz, Casper Ruud and Stefanos Tsitsipas know well] it ain’t happening.”
And today, at first, it sure looked like it wouldn’t be happening. Yes, it took Novak seven minutes to win the first game, but he overcame a break point and proceeded to put on a master class.
His shoulders wide, his core tight, he bent low and hit out to all the corners. The game’s greatest craftsman called on his entire toolbox to pummel his seemingly hapless foe 6-1 in the opening set.
Oh, dear, would this be another anticlimactic clash like Paris? With Brad Pitt looking on, Carlos might have been mumbling, “This is the pits of the world – what do I have to do to win a point?”
But the Spaniard is nothing if not a fearless fighter.
As Novak’s serve faltered in the wind, Carlos stepped up with a wicked slice and stroked one of his silky, feathery dropshots to break. But Djokovic, the relentless, smart, defensive genius, broke back and the set went to a tiebreak.
Novak had a set point to take a two-sets-to-love lead. The great frontrunner had only lost one Slam match when up by that margin. But the GOAT blinked. The sublime baseliner with one of the best backhands ever felt the pressure, and inexplicably dumped two backhands into the net. Set Alcaraz – match on!
Suddenly the 23-Slam winner was in disarray. There were stumbles, errant service tosses, wild shanks and outright whiffs, not to mention an untimely time violation and a towel dispute. He hardly looked like a seven-time Wimbledon champion. Plus, Nole was facing one of the fastest learners our game has ever seen. Flowing with renewed confidence, exploding with power and offering subtle touch, the bounding Spaniard sprinted to every corner of the court and showed astonishing maturity when he prevailed in a 32-point, 27-minute marathon game that enabled him to win the third set 6-1 and secure the momentum.
But there’s a reason Novak hadn’t lost on Centre Court for a decade. “You always feel the great champions are coming back – until they don’t,” said Radio Wimbledon. Novak could have folded, but he again hit out with pace and depth. The Serbian surged, broke twice and claimed the fourth set 6-3.
The titanic Battle of the Ages went to a fifth set. Certainly Nole, with his will, skill and renewed confidence, would subdue the kid. But early in the set, Djokovic sabotaged himself. He was done in by the one weakness in his game, his overhead. On breakpoint, with a lame lob in front of him, Nole passed on blasting an overhead and instead netted a swinging forehand drive volley. Carlos soon scored a defining break. As he walked to the sideline, the fuming Djokovic absolutely demolished his racquet on Wimbledon’s unbudging net post and clearly hurt his wrist. Then again, dare we note, few other champions have such a penchant for self destruction. Novak’s disqualification from the US Open and Covid misadventures came to mind.
To his great credit, the bold Spaniard stayed on course and sustained his slim margin as he marched to a victory that lifted hearts. In Wimbledon’s golden light, he hit a forehand winner to score a 1-6, 7-6(6), 6-1, 3-6, 6-4 victory in the Battle of the Ages. And as royals and the Right Honorable Lord and Lady Patten of Barnes properly applauded and roars lit up Henman Hill, the tennis world knew on this blustery day that the winds of change at last had come to our sport.
AMERICA WATCH: No. 2 seed Clervie Ngounoue, 16, from Washington DC claimed the girls’ juniors title with a 6-2, 6-2 win over the unseeded Czech Nikola Bartunkova.
