As this is my initial blog I would like to start with the story of why I am writing this in the first place.
High atop the ATP world ranks, perched on the mountain of elite level tennis, one man alone looks down on the rest. Novak Djokovic has done what no man before him has been able to do. But it wasn't easy. It took years upon years. But in 2011, he has demolished Nadal and Federer and ended the duopoly of Federer-Nadal tennis that has existed the last 7 years. Has he ushered in a new golden era of tennis? Obviously, only time can tell.
The last such era in my memory started back in the late 1980's when men's tennis was at it's most exciting peak. With names like Becker, McEnroe still lingering around a bit, new faces emerged. Names like Sampras, Change, Agassi, Muster. Tennis was fun to watch. Eventually, Sampras and Agassi imposed their dominance but there was always variety, always a question of what if? Always an opportunity for someone different to win, to claim a prize and to bring a higher level of excitement. As Sampras got older, guys like Kafelnikov, Coria, Roddick, Hewitt, Kuerten, Safin, kept it interesting and exciting. But then came the dominance of Federer who everyone hailed as the new King. And he was dominant to say the least. He demolished everyone around him and turned the game of tennis into a predictable, one man, one sided freak show.

They changed the ATP tour into the Roger Federer experience. With the first rounds of tourneys as the warm up band, and Federer hoisting another trophy as the main event. For a time, it was great to see such style, such grace on the court. Then it got boring. It got predictable. The same thing happened over and over again and along came Rafael Nadal to uproot Federer and usurp his #1 ranking and take away some of his trophies. But instead of there being fun and excitement for fans, a glimmer of hope, the one man sideshow turned into a boring duet. Tournament after tournament, year after year they bored us, and put us to sleep. If you were a betting man, you probably could have made some easy coin betting on the surest thing in sports. Federer or Nadal winning. Everyone else on the tour were standing around thinking, wtf?
But behind the shadows lurked a man who was sick of it. Sick of it all. There were a few cracks in the impenetrable wall of the Fedal show. All someone needed to do was have the stones, the audacity to look tennis history in the face, and slap it's bitter taste out of everyone's mouth. Someone stood up and said enough is enough. You're being greedy now. Let this stagnating sport which once was this display of athleticism, precision and competition have life again. Some of those who have stopped watching completely started to take notice. Something good was happening to the sport that they once loved. Maybe they could start watching it again. Maybe it will be exciting, thrilling, and not a predictable drag every year. Maybe, this abomination called the Federer/Nadal Duopoly could come to an end?
Well that man's name is Novak Djokovic. Legend killer. Orc Slayer. The unstoppable titan of terror. Currently the new world #1 ranked tennis player. Winner of 3 grand slams. In possession of one of the greatest winning streaks in history, and best starts to a season ever. But how could this all be?
He was the odd man out for years. The third wheel. Right on the cusp, looking in, but never ever invited into the big show. Winning one of the two grand slams during this nightmare that didn't have the name Nadal/Federer on it in 2008. We all had to endure 3 more years of the nightmare before something clicked. He finally figured it out. The only man in the world to figure it out. No more bullying from these two. He was not to be intimidated any longer.He was going to be doing the intimidating. He was going to hit the bigger forehands, the ironclad two handed backhands. Be the aggressor. Serve right to their weaker shots, get back every would-be winner, crush their spirits. Make them ask the questions.
He wasn't boring. He wasn't predictable. He wasn't your conventional John Cena type, cookie cutter hero like Federer or Nadal. He's a bit cocky, a bit defiant, he had a bit of fun in him, and a bit of fire. He had a chip on his shoulder and who could blame him? But all at the same time humble, with graciousness, and gratitude. He's the anti-Federer, the anti-Nadal. The antidote this poisoned sport needed. He beat his chest, pumped his fists, bounced the ball as many times as he wanted to before a serve. "So what?" he said. My name isn't Roger, or Rafael, so what? They're humans just like me.
He started steamrolling the competition. Taking out Federer in the 2010 US Open. Then again in the 2011 Australian Open Semis. Taking his second grand slam easily as he showed off his rekindled serve, and his big booming, hooking forehand. "Wait till Nadal gets a hold of him" - they said. So Djoker kept playing. Kept winning. Took a masters series, again beating Federer. "Wait till Nadal gets back, he's going to be shown the meaning of pain" - they said again.
At last they met in the final at Indian Wells. Down one set they said, "we told you so". We told you Nadal would teach him a lesson. But no. Enough is enough and it's time for a change. Djokovic looked the monster right in the eyes and stabbed him in the heart. Beating him down. "Well that was a fluke" -they said. But Nole persisted. Reached another final in Miami and there, awaiting him again was the beast. The wedgie picker with a scowl on it's face, but the story ended the same. "Djokovic is the luckiest SOB out there, wait till they get on clay, then he'll get his" -they said.
On clay now, in the animal's habitat. In his natural environment where no man dears to tread. Surely now, Nadal will exert his dominance. His will over free men. Surely now this is where the puck stops. In Madrid, this is where the Djoke ends. But no, again Nole comes out on top. Stunning Nadal in straight sets. Hitting that big serve, frustrating Nadal with his pinball paddle-like backhands. The monster was killed in his own cave. "But the surface on that clay was fast" -they said. "It was way higher above sea level, the air was thinner so the ball was faster"- they said. "Wait till they get to real clay" -they said.
In Italy they duel once again. This time on slower clay, this time at a lower climate with the air thicker, the surface slower. The true habitat of the beast. Again, like beating a dead horse. Novak destroys Rafa. Beat him like a rented mule. Beat him like a child beating some crappy pinata, filled with too much cheap candy. Surely now the masses will agree. Surely now the masses will let Novak in. Consider him the best, consider him elite, worthy of their praises, their cheers. No. They said no. He is not the King. He is not the fabled one. He's a one slam wonder. A same slam wonder. He doesn't have it. He's just been lucky. "Wait till they play each other in a best of five" -they said.
Roland Garros. And like a hot knife through butter, Novak cuts down the competition. But something odd happened. Something unexpected. The hunter became the hunted. Faced with an old foe in Federer, Novak stumbled, faultered, and fell. Great season, Djoker. Nice run pal, but now it's over. We'll show you how it's done from here on out, son. Time to come back down to reality. Time for the main eventers to take over again. The same old tune. The same old story reared it's ugly head again. Nadal and Federer tuned up their band. The same song was played.
But the story continued. Will Novak be able to recover from defeat? Will he be able to gather himself mentally? A true test to his skills, talent and mental fortitude. This time to the grandest stage of them all. Where the king of kings win. The king of kings are crowned. The biggest test of all, the biggest battlefield of them all. Wimbledon. The all England club. The all boys club. Again, the usual suspects start chopping the trees down. Going through the competition like a hot knife through some sort of shitty, smelly butter. Of the big three kings, old man Federer is the first to fall. Dropping a 2 set lead and getting pummeled by JWT in the final 3 sets. Some rejoiced. Setting up another meeting. Another kick at the can for Novak. It was time for him to show his mettle. Time for him to show his quality. Time for Novak Djokovic to take on Rafael Nadal on Nadal's last stronghold of power. In a slam final. There will be no excuses for surface advantages. No excuses of best of three sets versus best out of five. All down to skill, athleticism, mental and testicular fortitude. Winner take all.

At first it was tight, they go serve for serve. But Nadal is the first to faulter and Nole pounces. Serving out the first set for 6-4. No biggie right? It's just one set. Set number 2 starts and Djokovic is hitting all the corners and lines. Nole jumped out to a 2 sets to love lead. Pummeling Nadal. Forcing him from side to side with laser-like precision. Rattling his cage and getting back every big shot Rafa throws at him. Surely, it's over now we thought. The spelling is on the wall. Nadal fans said no. This is why they play best of five sets. Nadal will overcome, he's get a foothold in and will tear through like he usually does. It's too easy it seems, up 2 sets to 0. Nole loses a bit of focus. But when a man like Nadal who unflappable, untouchable, and according to Nadal fans, is invincible starts punching his racket. Grimacing. Looking like the beaten dog that he has been in the past several months then it appears not to be. Like an owner giving his dog one last bone before he puts him down, Nole drops the third set before putting him out of his misery in the fourth. breaking his serve twice.
Like beating a dead horse again. This time though, being crowned the King of Kings. The 2011 Wimbledon Grand Slam Champion. The superb Serb. What do they say? He'll never have as many Grand Slam victories as Fedal but for today, for the present and for the first time in 7 years he is the best player on the planet. Without question?
Surely, now they will believe... Right?