Bill Simons
Whenever Novak Djokovic enters a tennis tournament, records will be broken and questions will be asked. Again we wondered: can he, after eleven tries, at last win his 25th Slam?
There has to be a dicey moment or two – right? He wasn’t defaulted or booted out of the country, but he did blast a ball into the backstop and drew a hefty fine for an audible obscenity.
Still, there’s often a glimmer in his fun-loving eyes. Nole gleefully teased an unsuspecting ball girl. And, always, there’s theater.
Novak’s 5:15 victory over Felix Auger-Aliassime was the longest quarterfinal in Wimbledon history, and one of the more memorable matches of his singular career.
But his 6-4, 6-4, 6-4 loss today to Jannik Sinner was, according to Djokovic, “a good old blow out.”
It was said that Nole’s prime foe today was history. But history took the day off. They said Sinner’s prime foe was the heat. Just in time, sweltering London cooled it.
On his front foot, playing first-strike tennis, Jannik attacked Novak’s forehand and second serve, and controlled the longer rallies. He won a staggering 88% of his nearly impossible to read first serves. He ripped a backhand down the line that threaded the needle to grab the first set 6-4.
Nole had two days of rest after his epic quarterfinal – he could have used a week. Where were his explosive bursts? He conceded he was “a half step too late.” His second serve was tepid. The game’s best problem solver, the man who’d conquered Sinner in Australia, seemed to be on a walkabout. Master Djokovic had few answers.
They’d said the Serb would have to hit tiny targets and redline it against the man with the ginger hair. To his credit, tennis’ noble warrior didn’t raise a white flag – Nole fought to the end. But today, Sinner seemed flawless.
There were no signs of the man who, in 2025, had dropped two championship points at Roland Garros, or the lad who went down to Djokovic in January at the Australian Open.
The vulnerable Italian who’d withered in Paris was now in the rearview mirror. Few remembered Sinner’s first-round struggle, when the world No. 1 was hobbled by the heat and forced to rally from behind against Serbia’s Miomir Kecmanović.
Instead, before us, in full flight, was a tennis force of nature who hadn’t dropped serve since those first-round woes – a tennis superman cruising calmly in the stratosphere.
“Faster than a speeding bullet.” Yes, we’ll go with that. “More powerful than a locomotive.” That works. “Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.” Obviously.
Jannik mercilessly attacked Nole’s second serve. He picked on the Serb’s forehand and short balls and relentlessly ran him from corner to corner. Hugging the baseline, he dictated from the middle, took time away and was commanding in rallies.
He served big and delivered clutch aces when it mattered. Plus, there was the occasional sighting of Alcaraz-like flair – a drop shot here, a well-shaped lob there.
We know – tennis courts are rectangles. Today, a master created angles. Throughout, the world No. 1 was the aggressor.
They say Novak first takes away your legs – then he takes away your soul. Today, Jannik turned the slim Serbian into a shadow of himself. Nole was reduced to offering wry smiles, knowing chuckles, and, finally, resigned shrugs.
After two hours of his seemingly futile pursuit, Djokovic at last gained a break point. Sinner simply snarled: an ace to the T, an overhead with mustard, another ace just for the fun of it.
Good night, Nole.
Yes, the greatest player of all time drew ample sympathy applause from the polite Centre Court throng. What he’s doing at 39 is an athletic miracle. His foundational foes, Roger and Rafa, are working on their tans. And, still he says he wants to come back next year and play Wimbledon. Twenty-eight of the players Nole has faced in Slam finals are now retired. The Serb has reached at least the semis of the last seven Slams. The GOAT’s late career heroics are a celebration of longevity no other sportsman has matched. Honor that.
But scoreboards don’t lie, and Jannik’s definitive triumph convinced many that he was well on his way to defending his Wimbledon title. He’s beaten his upcoming foe, Alexander Zverev, nine straight times, and he’s scored four victories over him just this year.
Sure, Sinner isn’t the most dazzling of tennis celebrities, but his steely focus is now locked in. Pete Sampras once confided, “I’m just a tennis player. Nothing more, nothing less.” Today Sinner echoed that sentiment, saying, “I’m a tennis player, so I try to put the ball in the court as much as possible.”
And here’s a possibility: Sunday, the tennis world may well hail the man with the ginger hair who can leap buildings in a single bound.
•••••
Whenever I walk up the hill from the bustling Wimbledon tube station to the most intriguing hamlet in tennis, Wimbledon Village, my eye is always drawn to King’s College School. I always wondered what stories those old buildings held. What poets had wandered its halls. What soldiers had marched from its gates. What governors had been dispatched to distant outposts in Ceylon or Kenya.
Little did I know that the school’s next great story wouldn’t be written in Parliament or on a battlefield, but on Centre Court, by a Stanford product named Arthur Fery.
Few saw it coming.
After all, he was only the third-best junior in Britain. While on The Farm, he didn’t win the NCAA championships. Goodness, this spring, the 23-year-old didn’t even qualify for Roland Garros. And, with his No. 114 ranking, he needed a wildcard just to play in his hometown tournament, Wimbledon.
In the third round, he was on the brink of defeat. He had to battle hard before downing former world No. 3 Grigor Dimitrov in five sets. Then he finally found his full footing as he overwhelmed French Open finalist Flavio Cobolli in a runaway victory.
London’s tabloids sang Arthur’s praises. Barry Cowan said, “I love his backhand, elegant, easy, lovely timing, lovely directions.”
But the hottest player in the world, the 6’ 6” German giant Alexander Zverev, proved to be too formidable a Goliath for England’s appealing David.
Sascha broke Fery early. But tennis’ hero du jour retained his calm, broke back and returned well to force a first-set tiebreak. There was hope on Henman Hill. Dutch football captains, Indian cricketers and gentlemen in white straw hats imagined an upset.
But not for long.
Fery blinked – his much celebrated focus blurred. A double fault and an errant forehand opened the door. Sascha pounced. Now there was no trace of the defensive style that had long defined the world No. 2. Forget playing not to lose.
In attack mode, playing with freedom, the big man lashed forehands, his high-bouncing serve overpowering the now hapless Fery. He sprinted crosscourt with surprising ease. He painted the lines and stood firm at the net.
Fery complained about errant let cord calls. An unforced error by a ballboy didn’t help. Arthur’s heavyweight foe put him on the ropes and punched away – jabs and undercuts, no mercy. Zverev grabbed the first-set tiebreak 7-0 and didn’t look back. “This is cruel – Zverev’s bullying him. He’s got the swagger of a Grand Slam champion. This is pretty sensational,” said Radio Wimbledon.
Many offered advice. Change your return position. Go to his backhand line. Keep your head up.
But to no avail – Zverev won five games in a row. Fery’s mum, his childhood coach and the English masses were glum. This was one Fery tale that wouldn’t have a happy ending.
Zverev scored 44 winners, served massively and broke four times. With his 7-6(0), 6-2, 6-4 he became the first German to reach the finals of all four Slams. He’s 18-1 in majors this year.
All the while, over at the King’s College School and all the way to Yorkshire’s moors, Englishmen were more interested in celebrating their new King Arthur, that lad called Fery, who wove so much magic.
