Serbia's Novak Djokovic reacts during a tennis doubles match with Jelena Jankovic against Serbia's Nenad Zimonjic and Olga Danilovic at charity tournament Adria Tour, in Belgrade, Serbia, on June 12, 2020.Darko Vojinovic/The Associated Press
He could have had it all.
As 2022 began, Novak Djokovic was on the verge of making history. After a year of triumphs, including three Grand Slam championships, he was tied with Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal for the most major-tournament wins in the modern era of his sport. Each man had 20, an improbable three-way tie after a decade in which this trio of titans dominated the world of professional tennis like none before them. Mr. Djokovic was the overwhelming favourite to pull ahead of the others and reach 21. The first tournament of the year, the Australian Open, was his to win. He had taken it nine times before, a record.
We all know what happened next. After flying in for the Open last month, he was stopped by Australian officials, detained and, after days of legal jousting, deported for being unvaccinated against COVID-19. Mr. Nadal went on to win the Australian and become the first man to 21.
Now Mr. Djokovic says he is still unwilling to get vaccinated, even if it means missing the French Open and Wimbledon. Skipping the French would mean handing his arch-rival, Mr. Nadal, another golden opportunity. The Spaniard has won in Paris an incredible 13 times. A 14th would put him at 22 majors and leave Mr. Djokovic at 20. Mr. Federer, tennis-ancient at age 40, missed most of the 2020 and 2021 seasons because of knee surgeries and seems unlikely to win a major again.
As the BBC’s Amol Rajan put it to Mr. Djokovic this week, he may be forgoing the chance to become, statistically, the greatest player ever to pick up a racket. “Why, Novak? Why?” an incredulous Mr. Rajan demanded.
Tennis fans around the world are asking the same question. I’ve been watching Mr. Djokovic since the wiry young Serbian burst onto the scene by winning the Australian in 2008. He is a marvel on the court, a human backboard who can return just about anything, stretching his elastic limbs to reach shots that would sail by ordinary mortals.
His origin story as the son of a struggling family in the often violent aftermath of Yugoslavia’s disintegration makes him a more compelling figure than his two rivals. In a new book on Mr. Federer, The New York Times sportswriter Christopher Clarey calls the Serbian “a bristle-haired blend of bellicosity and generosity who seems as committed to raking his inner Zen garden as he is to ripping his own tennis shirt in two after converting match point.”
Though he has never been a crowd favourite like the elegant Mr. Federer or a heartthrob like the muscled Mr. Nadal, he is gentlemanly in both victory and defeat. When an opponent makes a brilliant shot, he applauds.
That is why his current stand is so disappointing. By refusing to get vaccinated even if it puts his career in limbo, he has become a rallying point for anti-vaxxers and opponents of vaccine mandates.
He insists that he had no such intention. He is just being careful about his health. As “a great student of wellness, well-being, health, nutrition” – he is gluten- and dairy-free and has said he drinks warm water and honey when he wakes – he is “trying to be in tune with my body.”
Yet as mild as he tries to sound, he is helping to feed myths about vaccines: that they invade and perhaps pollute the body, rather than protect it from dangerous viruses; that they are an intrusion on personal freedom, rather than a common-sense public health measure, in use for generations; that they are somehow an offence against nature, instead of an aid to the natural process of developing immunity.
These myths are all around us these days. They overflow on the Internet. They flourish among some elements of Canada’s “freedom convoys.” They cause tremendous harm. Even in this country, with its high vaccination rate, about 10 per cent of eligible people are still not inoculated at all. If they get the disease, they are many times more likely to die or end up in intensive care than those who have followed the advice of health authorities and lined up for a jab.
Mr. Djokovic should know this. He is an intelligent man. He is fluent in four languages (Serbian, German, English and Italian) and speaks two others (French and Spanish) reasonably well. He has ready access to trainers and doctors who know the facts about viral disease and how to fight it.
He could have learned a lesson from his Australian ordeal, agreed to be vaccinated and shown the world that even a skeptic like him could come around. Instead, he is digging in his heels, passing up a chance to confirm his greatness and, far worse, sending a message to doubters everywhere that vaccination really is something to fear.
Why, Novak, why?