Ten-time Australian Open champion Novak Djokovic was a couple of centimeters and a child’s fractionally slower reaction time away from being ejected from a Grand Slam event. For a second time in his career. On Saturday at the Australian Open, the winningiest male tennis player in history very nearly hit a ballkid with a ball he smacked in frustration in his third-round match against Dutchman Botic van de Zandschulp.
Take a look:
You can clearly see the ballkid lurch out of the way to avoid being struck. Had he been any slower or not paying attention, Djokovic would have been defaulted from the Australian Open. Tournament officials, as much as they understandably want to protect one of the superstars of the game, would likely have had no discretion. The rules are clear: if you hit a ball in anger or frustration and it strikes someone, you must forfeit the match.
Dear readers, I cannot stress enough how scandalous this nearly was. First and foremost, Djokovic has already made that mistake and it likely cost him the 2020 U.S. Open title. He was engaged in a difficult fourth-round match against Spaniard Pablo Carreno Busta when he hit a ball in annoyance and it struck a lineswoman in the throat.
Did he hit her on purpose? He didn’t. Did that change his culpability? Nope, it absolutely did not. The U.S. Open made the difficult decision to default the prohibitive favorite for the title. He was incensed, his fanbase heaped insults on the poor lineswoman claiming she overreacted. Turns out, she was the canary in the coal mine. He just got lucky this time, because the kid in question was alert.
To be cliear, I don’t believe he would ever intentionally hurt a tournament volunteer (ballkids at the Australian Open aren’t paid). Does that absolve him of responsibility for his lack of self control? Not even a little.
Even on the surface, this is a bad look. At a bare minimum, the kid could have been injured. Dig a little deeper and his irresponsible and juvenile behavior is astonishing — as was his apology, if you can call it that.
“I’m sorry for any distress I might have caused.”
REALLY? That’s what you’re sorry for?
Here. Let me fix it. “I’m sorry that in behaving like a recalcitrant child, I not only failed to account for the safety of the tournament representatives assigned to my match, but I nearly let my fans, my team, and event organizers down.”
I’m not usually this critical, but he needs to do better. There’s just no diplomatic way to say it.