“From Serbia … Novak Djokovic.”
Those words when uttered by the court announcer on Rod Laver arena sometime on Monday will be the cue for … what?
You’d hope it is a bit of panto booing to get it out of the system, a bit of partisan cheerleading and otherwise lots of clapping. In tennis, there’s always clapping.
You’d hope that it is not Adam Goodes-like wall-to-wall howling. The tenor of the crowd at Friday night’s practice hit-up with Nick Kyrgios doesn’t really count: almost by definition, they were on his side anyway.
We know already that Djokovic is apprehensive about what reception he will get, so this journey into the unknown will be the first intrigue of the 2023 Australian Open.
In lead-up events in Adelaide, Djokovic’s way was strewn with palm fronds (well, at the height of last year’s storm, his family did equate him with Jesus Christ).
But Adelaide was less hard hit by COVID lockdowns than Melbourne and so would have had fewer nits to pick with last year’s most prominent – notorious? – anti-vaxxer.
Adelaide, remember, was Djokovic’s retreat in the lead-up to the previous year’s Open when lockdown in Melbourne meant draconian restrictions on pre-tournament practice. Adelaide, as they keep reminding us, never had convicts; it’s always been for the free.
The Australian government’s treatment of Djokovic last year was doubtfully motivated and heavy-handed. That’s not to say his expulsion and the opprobrium he brought on himself was not warranted. It was.
It’s true that, as he says, he merely followed process. But that process was through a loophole temporarily exempting from mandatory vaccination someone with a recent COVID case. Quite legally, Djokovic exploited the fact he had had COVID to bypass Australia’s No. 1 anti-COVID measure. In the end, he got what he had coming, which was leaving.
Polls at the time showed little sympathy for Djokovic. Polls only show qualified affection for him at the best of times. It would have been interesting to see what the polls said if Roger Federer or Rafael Nadal had tried to game the system. But they didn’t, which is the point.
However, that was then. This is now. The new Australian government has remitted Djokovic’s original three-year ban.
This is only reasonable. The grounds for it have fallen away. However many or few anti-vaxxers to whose arm he might have lent strength then, there are so few now as to be negligible. Public order is not under threat.
There is no vaccine mandate for any incoming passengers now. There isn’t one in the community at large. Anxiety about COVID has receded; it is now at worst annoyance. Over the objections of reputable physicians, we’re living (and still dying) with COVID. Whether this is right or wrong, it is not Djokovic’s doing.
In trying to flout the system last year, Djokovic was insufferably arrogant. But in the end, he did no harm. Nor did he dress up in a Nazi suit or play three wise monkeys to a paedophile priest.
If he nurses resentment, he has been tactful enough not to show it. In reflections, he has been careful to claim to understand the ire of the Australian public, saying no more than it was stoked by misleading media, a safe enough redoubt these days.
So, is Australia ready to forgive and overlook? Is Melbourne ready to receive Djokovic again on tennis terms only? I suspect so. I hope so. In the end, Melbourne and Adelaide are not so different when it comes to sport, except for some odd Australian rules terminology and Tex Walker.
It becomes a test of whether we as a city and nation are as sporting as we like to think. It’s a test of whether we’re as big as we like to think.
Djokovic can’t and won’t expect unconditional love. For complex reasons, he has never had that. But nor should he have to endure a Goodes-style barrage, reviving the most shameful recent episode in Australian sport. We’re surely not that petty still.
He has done his crime and time. If he is greeted with a little chiacking and can give back a rueful smile, that would be the time-honoured Australian way. Otherwise, it should be about the shots he makes and misses, not the one he refuses.