There are few emotions more confounding, crushing and ultimately useless than the love affair between a fan and an athlete — confounding because, well, it’s one-sided really. I mean, you really don’t know the athlete, only what you project unto him, which is really a dream of yourself. Crushing, because the emotion is real enough. And useless, because, well, see 1. and 2.
So it pains me to write about Novak Djokovic’s thoughtless, coronavirus-infested, aborted Balkan tennis tour. Djokovic, the No. 1-ranked men’s player in the world and president of the ATP Players’ Council, husband and father of two, has been one of the good guys. Bombed as a child in the Yugoslav Wars of the late 1990s, he overcame poverty and some early immaturity to become Tennis magazine’s male player of the decade (2010-2019). His 17 Grand Slam titles are bested only by Roger Federer (20) and Rafael Nadal (19), both of whom he holds a winning record against. He’s a U.N. Goodwill Ambassador, an unofficial ambassador for his native Serbia, carrying a diplomatic passport and, through the Novak Djokovic Foundation headed by wife Jelena, a passionate proponent of early childhood education.
During the coronavirus crisis, he gave $5 million to Serbian hospitals and has worked to compensate those tennis players who do not earn Djokovic-size prize money or endorsements. He’s a polyglot lover of philosophy and religion who likes to do yoga and ballet and knit with his wife, who has an advanced degree in finance. He’s brilliant, beautiful, a golden guy living in Monte Carlo where he takes son Stefan to school, but, well, you see where this is going. The ancient Greeks had a theory about heroes and tragic flaws. One of Djokovic’s is that he’s always tried too hard — to be loved, to be entertaining, to be fun. And he’s also tried hard to represent all of the former Yugoslav republics.
Which brings us to the flawed Atria Tour of the former Yugoslavia, which featured stars like Grigor Dmitrov and up-and-coming players like Dominic Thiem and Borna Coric. Djokovic, Dmitrov and Coric are among those players and coaches on this Atria Tour, along with Djokovic’s wife, who have tested positive for the coronavirus.
What went wrong? Try no social distancing or masking. (Djokovic was seen hugging Dmitrov as he arrived at an airport to join the tour, playing basketball with the other tour members and clubbing with the group.) He has apologized, saying that the tour followed the guidelines set down by the visited countries and that the intentions were good. The path to hell, however, as is well-known, is paved with good intentions. You’re killed in cold blood. You’re killed in a car accident by someone racing his injured child to the hospital. One involves premeditated malice; the other, thoughtlessness as byproduct of fatherly love. Defense attorneys are paid big bucks to parse those motivations. But in the end, you’re still dead, aren’t you?
It’s going to take a long time for Djokovic to live this down, and that’s if he’s lucky and no one gets seriously ill. (Dmitrov in particular didn’t look well.) I suspect there’s something more to this than the desire to bring tennis back to the masses — and a few bucks to the players’ pockets. I think Djokovic may be one of those people who lives in denial of disease. He’s voiced skepticism about taking any future vaccine for the virus and called the USTA’s guidelines for a spectator-less, contained, streamlined US Open in August “extreme.”
Denial is a very human thing — a state of mind I intimately understand. For years, I lived in denial of my beloved aunt’s dementia, until her wandering and violence forced me to confront the black hole of anguish before me. What I learned is that what British leader William Booth said is true: “The greatness of a man’s power is the measure of his surrender.” And suffering — of a disease, a crisis — is something to which you must surrender. The more you resist, the greater the suffering.
Recently, I suffered a tiny fracture in my right foot. The doctor told me to give up exercise walking for two weeks — an eternity for me. I was tempted, but I thought the more I comply with his orders, since he knows more about it than I do, the faster I’ll be back power walking.
Djokovic said he lead with his heart, which may be the problem. For somebody who sometimes overthinks, his brain should’ve taken the lead. I suspect that what is really behind the scandal was a desire to will life back to normal. If we just go back to the way things were, then they and we will be the way we were. Life doesn’t work that way.
The coronavirus — as we have had ample demonstration — is an unpredictable, implacable killer.
I pray Djokovic and the others don’t discover this firsthand.