“Hot Shot,” by Vicki Woods, was originally published in the June 2011 issue of Vogue.
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This lean, mean tennis machine, poised to spring for the top spot, is Novak Djokovic, currently number two in world tennis. Thanks to a suddenly superhuman serve (after several uneven years, his first-serve percentage is a neat 65), plus the court-covering power to return the craziest shots, he is on a wild roll. Since beating Andy Murray in straight sets for the final of the Australian Open, he has notched a winning streak of 24 matches. Last time anybody had a start-of-year streak like that, it was Ivan Lendl, 1986. (The year before Djokovic was born.)
Easily the world’s most famous living Serb (Q. Who is the president of Serbia? A. Me neither), Djokovic lives in the pretty principality of Monaco, where the tennis club is spectacular, the winters are balmy, and Monegasques are cool. He, on the other hand, is so hot (both on court and in person) that he can visit his native Belgrade only on a quick in and out, lest his countrymen mob him to pieces.
We meet at the Sony Ericsson Open in Miami, halfway toward the final. His fourth-round tie with fellow Serb (and 2010 Davis Cup teammate) Viktor Troicki was slated, as befits the second seed, for court numero uno, the Stadium. Rain delays have pushed the day’s most coveted ticket to a little outer court, the Grandstand. Since everyone wants to see Novak in action, I stick fast to a (damp) concrete perch for six hours straight to prevent the hordes clamoring at the gate from taking my place. During each break of play, a loudspeaker booms: “Please REMEMBER that the rain-delayed match between Novak Djokovic and Viktor Troicki will be played HERE in the GRANDSTAND and not in the STADIUM,” which provokes cries of “Serbia, Serbia” (pronounced Srrrrb-ya) by young girls wrapped in flags of red, blue, and white with gold bling. (When Djokovic is asked at his champion’s press conference, “Where did you find all the Serbians?,” he laughs and says they found him.)
The best feeling Djokovic has had on the tennis court, he tells me later, was Serbia’s first-ever Davis Cup win. I’m surprised because, at his exalted level, tennis is always High Noon, is it not? Two duelists, one winner, roll credits? He says no, nothing compares with the Davis Cup. Not winning two Grand Slams, not “beating the top players, Roger, Rafa.” “We’re individual athletes, and everything we do, we do by ourselves,” he says. “But the success you have there, you don’t get for yourself. You share it with your people and your teammates.”
