Bill Simons
For years, tennis lovers were happy to muse on a provocative question: who is the greatest player of all time?
But Roger Federer, with 20 Slams in tow, brushed off the question with a shrug – who cares? Rafa Nadal, who’s won 22 Slams, also waved it away: “You can’t be frustrated all the time because your neighbor has a bigger house.”
Novak Djokovic was different. He grew up in hostile rooms. Arenas roared for his opponents. When Wimbledon fans chanted “Roger! Roger!” the game’s most adept alchemist heard “Nole! Nole!”
So Djokovic embraced records. They became his compass. Goals served as north stars. Novak contended, “Limits are only illusions of your ego or your mind.” For him, boundary-stretching was not vanity but a spiritual practice.
Many imagined he would be putting his practice to good work tonight in Melbourne by claiming his 25th Grand Slam – perhaps the game’s greatest record. As for six-time Slam champ Carlos Alcaraz, for all the glory he’d scored at other Grand Slam venues, his Aussie Open marks had been modest – he hadn’t even reached a semifinal. Plus, he was coming out of a tumultuous off-season in which he and his longtime coach Juan Carlos Ferrero had broken up due to money issues.
In Melbourne, Carlos was lucky to survive his Aussie Open semi against the considerable world No. 3, Alexander Zverev. Hobbled by cramps (or was it a thigh injury), Carlos took good advantage of generous rulings on whether his cramps could be treated. Then, in the longest semi in Australian Open history, a 5:27 take-no-prisoners grind, he found himself just three points from losing. But Zverev again blinked at crunch time. The German dropped his serve, allowing Carlos to score a memorable 6-4, 7-6, 6-7, 6-7, 7-5 win.
All the while, Djokovic’s considerable fan base was elated. In the second semi, their man had scored an epic win over the best hard court player in the game, Jannik Sinner. And Alcaraz had to be gutted after his draining marathon win.
Quietly, Nole’s fans reassured themselves, “All records are made to be broken.” But the record for most Slams ever seems to be in some kind of protective program. It likes to turn the tables on those who come to mess with it. Serena, the greatest female player in history, won her 23rd Slam in 2017. The Greatest Player of All Time, Novak, did match Margaret’s record of 24 in 2023, but has failed to surpass it in nine tries. Sunday morning, a tall, thin, aging church lady whose fierce views have irked many for decades, had to be the most relieved Pentecostal minister in Australia. One pundit asked, “Did Court herself, a born-again minister who never quite concealed her bitterness toward the modern game and its judgments, cast a long, unshakable shadow over the number?”
But, at first, it seemed that Djokovic would shrug aside any curse there might be and prevail. While Carlos still seemed to be shaking off the demons of his semifinal test, Djokovic’s first-set 6-2 victory was a reminder of what has made him one of the sport’s great starters. He leaned into his strengths – impeccable court positioning, deep returning, and an unerring ability to convert pivotal moments into scoreboard gains. Two early breaks gave him a cushion that allowed him to play with calm. This was Serbian chess: methodical, unflappable, decisive. But not for long.
After dropping the first set 6-3, Alcaraz didn’t panic or overreach. He widened the court raised the temperature and locked down. His bounding athleticism and speed turned defense into offense, while his forehand – heavy, sudden, and decisive – began to dictate. Where Djokovic had at first controlled the match with precision and pattern, Alcaraz answered with motion and variety, stretching rallies and forcing one more sprint, one more swing. The balance shifted with surprising ease. What had looked like a contest of control became an intergenerational test of legs, and the 22 year-old’s power, speed and youth prevailed with some ease: 2-6, 6-2, 6-3, 7-5.
Carlos flashed his gleaming smile, knowing that he could claim his seventh Slam and that he’d scored three of the last four majors. Plus, he and Sinner together had won seven Slams in a row.
Yet even in defeat, Djokovic reminded us why he has endured. He chased, redirected, improvised, and resisted with the instincts of a champion who refuses erasure. He has gotten to the semis or more of five straight Slams. After his loss, Djokovic sounded resigned: a wise warrior who is not ready to hang up his sneakers, but realizes there are foes who are simply better.
Yes, his ranking is still grand, but this mortal might need a miracle – not so much from an Australian churchwoman, but rather from a tennis god or two.
Tonight’s final was not a passing of the torch so much as a generational tussle – one generation insisting, the other persisting.
As for tonight’s history, the lessons were clear. While tennis’ great, sinewy elder was unable to break Court’s record of 24 Slams, Alcaraz blasted his way to his inaugural Aussie Open, the championship he wanted so much. The win enabled him to join the small group of champions who’ve won all four of the majors in the Open era: Roger Federer, Rafa Nadal, Andre Agassi, Rod Laver, and Novak. By a considerable margin, the 22-year-old Carlos was the youngest ever to capture the coveted career Slam.
And as 15,000 Aussies left Laver Arena, they realized this year’s Open had asked more questions than it answered. Is it reasonable to imagine that Alcaraz could break Court’s record in a decade? Can anyone dismantle the Sinner-Alcaraz duopoly – Djokovic, Zverev – or a young stud? And, for just how long will a timeless Serbian go on and on and on?
