Novak Djokovic beats old foe Roger Federer in historic Wimbledon final

After four hours and 57 minutes Novak Djokovic’s thundercrack serve ricocheted off the racket of the greatest artist tennis has known and, as the ball shot high into the Centre Court rafters, Roger Federer had to finally admit that he can’t after all stop time.
Novak Djokovic celebrates winning the men's singles final against Roger Federer at Wimbledon. Picture: Clive Brunskill/Getty ImagesNovak Djokovic celebrates winning the men's singles final against Roger Federer at Wimbledon. Picture: Clive Brunskill/Getty Images
Novak Djokovic celebrates winning the men's singles final against Roger Federer at Wimbledon. Picture: Clive Brunskill/Getty Images

It was the most unartful end to the match but what a final it had been. The longest at Wimbledon for sure, testing the stamina of fans younger than Federer’s 37 years, and surely a contender for the greatest.

It had everything. Thirty-five-shot rallies, wild oscillations, great power, great subtlety, dramatic Hawkeye interventions, football-style chanting for Federer, pictured below, Djokovic at his evil-count best and the victor being two championship points down before, with a swish of his black cape, he turned into a party-pooper of gargantuan proportions.

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In fairness to Federer he never actually claimed he could halt the passage of time. It’s just that some of his tennis in these championships, not least in the 94 winners he struck in the final, 40 more than his opponent, suggested that he was actually getting better with age.

And then there was that full-page ad which ran in newspapers for the duration and showed an expensive wristwatch – handsome, sophisticated and a model of Swiss precision but no less of one than its wearer, who’d been aiming for his ninth Wimbledon title as the oldest winner of the Open era.

But Djokovic, who instead collected his fifth by a gasping scoreline of 7-6 (7-5), 1-6, 7-6 (7-4), 4-6, 13-12 (7-3), is truly some machine. We’ve been saying as much for years amid allusions to robotics and grudgeful praise. But the Serbinator was supercool when it looked like he might lose. His blood temperature seemed to plummet at that moment, as if he’s sneaked into one of those ice-baths favoured by the players when no one was looking – and doubtless this will figure in fresh allegations that he’s possibly not quite human.

But even those who didn’t want him to win – and that was the vast bulk of the Centre Court – would have to admit that he hit some returns which were out of this world. Djoko may have the most cringeworthy celebration in tennis – the strange act he may call “I give you my love, all of it” which still looks like he’s mimicking self-disembowelment – but he also possesses the best defence.

At the All-England, this most exclusive of joints, there are private members’ clubs within private members’ clubs. There’s the Big Four (Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, Andy Murray) and within that the triopoly of serial winners which keeps Murray in the holding-pen. But within that there’s the bromance between Federer and Nadal, Djokovic being stuck behind the velvet rope. Try as he might – and he really does try – he can’t, and probably won’t ever, be as loved as these two. He’s mounted a few charm offensives, but these can be undone by his sarcasm (suggesting to the crowd in his semi that they should cheer ever louder for Roberto Bautista Agut) or by him cupping an ear when the applause for him doesn’t quite rattle the roof (terrible to see this football gesture seep into tennis).

Yesterday he faced constant chants of “Come of Roger, let’s go” (with perfectly-rounded vowels) and a deafening din even when Federer got to 15-30 on his serve. He hit ripping winners to only the meekest applause. If Federer had triumphed then a charge onto the hallowed lawns by the groupies seemed certain, and possibly led by John Bercow, Speaker of the House of Commons, who’s supposed to show complete impartiality in his day job but minces around SW19 in a “RF” T-shirt and bellows at his idol: “We love you, Roger – all of us”. Somehow Djokovic managed to shut all of this out until the final set when he growled at the demented stands. Well, he does have a badder-than-bad reputation to upkeep.

Federer began with an ace and his serve was immediately in the groove but he was thumping a few forehands long and this was to cost him on break-point in the fourth game and at other crucial junctures as well. He played like a dream for most of the final but will have nightmares about all three tie-breaks. He got off to bad starts each time and Djokovic stood on his neck and wouldn’t let him go.

Federer definitely hit three or four drop-shots in this match which will go straight into the DVD devoted to just this skill when the full boxset is compiled upon his retirement. He played Djokovic like a fish on a line and magicked up winners which seemed to belong in a circus. But the Serb dived down many wells to retrieve the ball and survived set-point in the third.

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The climax was always going to be cruel but especially for Federer. In his semi-final he’d been discomfited by sunlight which had blazed onto Centre at the Royal Box end. If anyone has the clout to have that fixed, he does. But if the sun has set on this most glorious of careers then Bercow for once called it right.

All of us.