Rafa Nadal entered the court and the gentleman with the large Serbian flag rose from his front-row seat. It seemed there could be trouble.
A prominent V and A could be seen beneath its crumpled emblem, probably part of a rendering of Novak in black, capital letters. Here was the moment tournament organisers had feared. The Djokovic backlash. Serbian exiles, anti-vaxxers, the crowd of troublemakers said to be making a beeline for the Melbourne Park complex. Extra security had been laid on, but it was a large site. Nobody could police every acre.
Nadal may be the greatest beneficiary of Djokovic’s expulsion if he lands Grand Slam No 21 and, in doing so, statistically becomes the greatest of all time.
Rafa Nadal entered the court started in style at the Australian Open, beating Marcos Giron
The gentleman with the flag turned to his compatriot, and gave the secret signal. He immediately reached in his holdall and pulled out . . . the sun cream. After all, it was hot out there. The grey clouds had burned off at last and there were shadows and a strong mid-afternoon warmth. Can’t be too careful.
So sunscreen liberally applied, the flag was neatly folded away and Novak’s No 1 fan sat down to watch the tennis. He’s quite good this Nadal chap, you know. Lovely mover. Plenty of oomph.
Lee Evans used to open his sets pretending to be a nervous young comedian, drowning on stage, frantically trying to attain empathy with his audience. ‘Trouble? Getting here? Trouble?’ he would ask, in search of mutual recognition. Short, desperate pause. ‘No. None at all. None at all. Straight through. No problem.’
Monday felt rather like that. The TV crews hovering outside for the riot slated to follow Djokovic’s deportation went home with little to titillate let alone scandalise.
Organisers feared the Djokovic backlash as the Australian Open finally got underway
Extra security had been laid on, but it was a large site and nobody could police every acre
There were no mobs with burning torches, no large-scale protests, little in the way of resistance at all. After the weighty debates and courtroom dramas that dominated the prior week, it was, whisper it, all a little dull.
The early rounds of Grand Slam tennis can be like that, whereas Djokovic’s battle to remain in Australia was the very essence of our modern, pandemic life. The rights of the individual versus the common needs of wider society. The excesses or limitations of state power. The need to control borders, set against our basic human rights and choices.
Big stuff. Big themes. And at the centre of it all, the greatest tennis player in the world. By contrast, this was a series of mismatches, played out in quarter-full arenas, undersubscribed even given the limits on attendance.
The first four matches on Rod Laver Arena, the prime site, were all over in straight sets. Ashleigh Barty, the local hero put on in the evening no doubt to compensate those who bought tickets in the belief they would be watching Djokovic, took down Ukraine’s Lesia Tsurenko in 54 minutes. She won the first 11 games, eventually taking the match 6-0, 6-1.
Djokovic was deported from Australia on Sunday after 11 days of legal wrangling ended with the full bench of the Federal Court siding with Minister Hawke's decision to cancel his visa
There is something delightfully unstarry about Barty. After an entire day of mismatches, the stadium announcer was relishing the opportunity to get the crowd
