Novak Djokovic arrives in Melbourne with the record already in hand, but still with a craving for more. Twenty-four Grand Slam singles titles sit on his mantel, a number that he once deemed provisional, even incomplete. Now, with Father Time waiting on his doorstep, it stands as a statement in and of itself. The pursuit of a milestone-extending 25th remains, but it no longer consumes him the way it once did. Age has not softened his competitiveness, but it has given him a more nuanced view of his place in the sport’s annals. At 38, he is no longer angling for more hardware with urgency. He is instead acknowledging context, and doing so with the confidence of an accomplished would-be Hall of Famer who has earned the right to choose his battles.
Predictably, the Australian Open is Djokovic’s battlefront of choice. Ten titles in Melbourne grant him historical leverage, and Rod Laver Arena has long functioned as both his sanctuary and proving ground. His preparation this year has been selective, even guarded, at best, shaped by an understanding that longevity now demands restraint rather than excess. He speaks openly about managing his body, about picking his spots, about choosing moments rather than hoarding matches. There is no grand declaration, no manufactured drama; he understands precisely where his margins now lie.
Perhaps it’s fair to argue that tennis is on the verge of passing Djokovic by. Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner have arrived, and with authority. They have imposed a new pecking order; they own the majors, playing a brand of tennis rooted in speed, power, and will. To his credit, he accepts the new reality without an ounce of defensiveness. He understands that he is no longer in their league, and openly names them as THE gold standards, not as interlopers. His admission matters, but it signals his status as a competitor prepared to overcome the odds.
What distinguishes the new Djokovic, arguably the greatest of all time and yet the underdog, is his adaptability. He is no longer chasing dominance; instead, he willingly takes on the role of an opportunist. The Australian Open draw places him in Sinner’s half, with the possibility of a semifinal-round meeting. Alcaraz waits on the opposite side as the sport’s current North Star seeking a title Down Under to complete the career Grand Slam. The structure itself reads like a referendum on continuity: the past standing proudly, the present assertive, the outcome likely but nonetheless undecided.
At this stage, Djokovic is shaping his legacy in increments: a tournament on occasion, but always refusing to accept irrelevance. In Melbourne, he is not asking the opposition to bend backward so he can meet his ultimate objective. Rather, he is stepping onto the court on his terms, fully aware that real success needs to be earned, not given.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.
