We may be only four chapters in, but already Novak Djokovic against Carlos Alcaraz is like a novel you just can’t put down, a sporting page-turner crammed with improbable plot twists and gripping suspense.
From the dramatic opening instalment last year in Madrid, where Alcaraz prevailed in a final-set tiebreak, through the stifling intensity of a French Open semi-final that left the Spaniard incapacitated by cramp, to the epic grandeur of the five-set Wimbledon final that followed, the fledgling rivalry has confounded expectation at every turn.
The latest instalment, which came in Cincinnati on Sunday, was no exception. For a set and a half, as Alcaraz soared and Djokovic toiled in the intense heat and humidity of his first day-time match of the tournament, the outcome seemed a foregone conclusion. That in itself was a surprise, given that Djokovic had breezed into the final without dropping a set while Alcaraz, struggling for form, was taken the distance in every round. Yet the twists and turns had barely begun.
At a set and a break down, it all looked over for Djokovic. Yet, helped on his way by a poor service game from Alcaraz, he rose from the canvas, saved a championship point at 6-5 in the second-set tiebreak, and went on to win one of the most monumental matches of his storied career 5-7, 7-6 (9-7), 7-6 (7-4). He did so in the face of an extraordinary show of defiance from Alcaraz, who himself saved four match points as he battled back from 5-3 down in the decider.
It was unforgettable, a night of visceral excitement and passion. A night when Alcaraz punched a drinks container in frustration, sustaining a cut hand that would require treatment, and fans punched the air in frenzied delight with every blow their favourite struck. A night when the battle raged for three hours and 49 minutes, setting a new mark for the longest three-set final in ATP Tour history. A night that ended with Djokovic ripping open his shirt with a primal roar, a reprise of his infamous celebration after defeating Rafael Nadal in the 2012 Australian Open final, while Alcaraz sobbed into a towel.
“Crazy, honestly, I don’t know what else I can say,” said Djokovic. “Tough to describe. Definitely one of the toughest matches I’ve ever played in my life, regardless of what category, what level, what player. Unbelievable.
“From the beginning to the end we both went through so much, so many ups and downs, highs and lows, incredible points, poor games, heat strokes, coming back. Overall, one of the toughest and most exciting matches I was ever part of.”
Coming from one of the greatest players in the sport’s history, that was quite an assessment. Yet few who witnessed it would demur. True, Djokovic’s physical distress meant the first half of the contest was of variable quality. Who will forget the sight of the 23-time grand slam champion hitting three double-faults in a single game? Yet those moments of unevenness only accentuated the sense of drama as the closing stages produced a feast of sumptuous shot-making.
One rally in particular stood out. It came as Djokovic sought to convert the second of two championship points against Alcaraz’s serve at 5-3 in the decider. After a probing exchange of backhands, the Spaniard attempted a drop shot. Normally so proficient with his signature play, Alcaraz gave the ball a little too much air and, as Djokovic raced in and rifled a backhand crosscourt, the Spaniard’s race appeared to be run. Instead, Alcaraz fired a backhand pass down the line and then sprinted forward to meet Djokovic’s angled reply, a shot he had no right even to reach, with an audacious forehand winner. Both men were left grinning in disbelief.
“It was kind of a showcase of what this whole match was about, that match point saved from him,” said Djokovic. “The feeling that I have [against Alcaraz] reminds me a little bit [of] when I was facing Nadal, when we were at the prime of our careers.
“Each point is a hustle. Each point is a battle. You feel like you’re not going to get maybe in total five free points in the entire match. You’ve got to basically earn every single point, every single shot.”
Be that as it may, there is some way to go before the rivalry becomes even remotely comparable to Djokovic-Nadal. It takes time – and repeated meetings on the sport’s biggest stages – for the great head-to-heads to evolve. Four matches, and only one of them a grand slam final, is nothing beside the nine major finals – and 59 meetings in all – contested by Djokovic and Nadal.
As for time, it is clearly against them. Alcaraz is 20 years old, Djokovic 36. If this is to be one of the great rivalries, it will perforce be brief and intense, in the style of Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe, whose 14 meetings were compressed into four all too fleeting years between 1978 and 1981.
So whatever the future holds, let us enjoy Djokovic-Alcaraz while we can. Already the pair have staged a classic on every surface. Each of their four meetings has delivered the unexpected. And, promisingly, their duels have illuminated their respective characters, as all great rivalries must. We now know that Djokovic, his Wimbledon defeat behind him, remains as hungry as ever for more big titles – and that he is as ready as ever to suffer for them. We know too that Alcaraz, always so ready to smile, is equally capable of tears, that his virtuosity is underpinned by hitherto unseen depths of emotion.
What is not yet known is how things will pan out if the two best players in the world meet for a third major in a row, as the US Open seedings suggest they will. The craving to find out is already palpable, though – and that too points to a great rivalry in the making, time allowing.