Unless you’re in the grip of chronic insomnia (in which case I’d recommend jumping onto Amazon and ordering a rugby league DVD — will cure you in minutes), you’ll have missed what will almost certainly prove to be the highlight of the Australian Open, and quite possibly the tennis year. At about 4:40am South African time, after ruthlessly dispatching Germany’s Benjamin Becker (Germans named B. Becker aren’t all equally adept on the court) in the first round, Serbia’s Novak Djokovic, after a little persuasion, strutted back out onto court, and produced a quite brilliant impersonation of Maria Sharapova. What a breath of personality in the void of life that is professional tennis.

The pouts, the flick of the hair, the stylised toss of the ball — whether Sharapova found it quite as amusing for the rest of us is up for debate, but there’s no doubt Djokovic is flavour of the fortnight in Melbourne, this morning’s Sydney Morning Herald going so far as to suggest that the Serbian might even attract local support in a clash with Lleyton Hewitt, an Australian even Australians struggle to warm to. That match-up could come in the quarterfinals, by which stage Djokovic, should his repertoire extend to more of his professional peers, could have even more of a cult following — in the stands, at least, if not in the locker room.

It’s the first time I’ve watched the Australian Open in real time, and hence the first time I’ve given it real attention. (That could well be interrupted later this morning, when Shaun Tait and Brett Lee attempt to remove Virender Sehwag’s head at the WACA. I watched Devon Malcolm attempt the same against Michael Slater in Perth 13 years ago — few sights in cricket can match a genuine quick against a batsman set on all-out attack at the WACA for sheer electricity.) And aside from the Djokovic cameo, it’s been the similarity to Wimbledon that’s caught my attention.

Barely disguised glee filtered through day one television wrap-ups that “both British players crashed out on day one”; that Australian and English tennis are so similar, however, has passed unnoticed in this part of the world. Think back to Wimbledon over the last few years: the doomed following of Tiger Tim, the jingoistic following of reconditioned Canadian Greg Rusedski, the national euphoria when a British wildcard from the murky depths of the world rankings somehow scrambled through to round two. The All England club represents a fortnight of sporting self-flagellation for the British, still waiting forlornly for the next Fred Perry.

Move to Australia during the Open, and things aren’t that different. Yesterday’s television coverage included ‘Aussie Watch’, a blur of anonymous local talent largely stumbling at the first hurdle. Mark Philippoussis claimed he was hitting the ball as well as ever; unfortunately for Australian fans, it was in a promotional hit-out for Nintendo Wii, ‘Scud’ still hobbling about on crutches after knee surgery. It’s a sign of the paucity of Australian tennis talent that an aging, injured, never-quite-was playing a tennis video game warrants a five-minute break from the live action. Although that wasn’t the saddest moment of the day…

Garnier have a players’ pre-match beauty lounge at the Australian Open (much as they do at Loftus), where star talent can get the last-minute eyelash tint or bikini wax crucial to tennis success. And that was where Channel Seven’s roving reporter found Anastasia Rodionova, who was Russian ‘til about 20 minutes before the tournament started, but is now a true-blue Aussie. Don’t believe me? Here’s the verbatim interview: “So, Anastasia, do you like Vegemite?” “Um… yes, I think.” “Marvellous. Do you like beer?” “Um… yes, I think.” “There we go, then — Anastasia’s a genuine Aussie. Good luck, and back to the studio.” And to think we laughed at Greg Rusedski going English.

You can’t play down the entertainment value of it all, though, and some exquisite flashes of tennis — the Roger Federer Show looks in top gear, and most of the top seeds appear in promising touch — will make for grand fortnight in Melbourne. Aussie Watch will have become Lleyton Hewitt Watch by the weekend, unless one of the imports hits a run of form; even without countrymen to cheer on, however, Australians have the entertainer from Serbia to keep their spirits up. Novak Djokovic doing Venus Williams is top of my wishlist — if you can’t sleep, and the rugby league tapes haven’t arrived yet, dropping in on the Australian Open’s no bad call.

  • Contact Dan at dan@metropolis.co.za


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