Thank you, Nole!

Growing up, Roger Federer was the player I admired most. Watching him play was like witnessing poetry in motion on a tennis court. I thought nobody could ever make me feel that way about the game. But yeah, life has a way of surprising you, and it wasn’t Roger who ended up changing how I see the game and the world. It was Novak Djokovic.

The funny thing is, it all started with the Olympics this year. I didn't really follow Novak’s journey in depth before, but this year I watched him take on Carlos Alcaraz in a match that felt like a movie. Alcaraz, who had beaten him at Wimbledon earlier in the year, was supposed to represent the future of tennis. Sixteen years younger, fast, powerful, unstoppable. If you haven't seen Alcaraz play, imagine bottled lightning, he's that explosive. At least, that’s what everyone thought.

At 37, an age when most tennis players are doing commentary or running academies, Novak Djokovic continues to make history. He outlasted a 21-year-old who probably grew up watching him on TV. When Novak won that gold medal and dropped to his knees, you could see what it meant to him. It wasn’t just another trophy. He set an example showing that age doesn’t matter, that setbacks only set you up for comebacks, and that the limits we face are often just the ones we choose to believe in.

After that match, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. What kind of mindset drives someone to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep winning? That’s when I decided to go back and watch the 2019 Wimbledon final, the match everyone says defines who Novak Djokovic truly is. And let me tell you, they were right.

That final still gives me goosebumps. Picture this: Centre Court, Wimbledon. The most prestigious stage in tennis. Federer and Djokovic, battling for nearly five hours in the longest final the tournament has ever seen. The crowd was going crazy for Roger - I mean, who doesn't love Roger? Every point Roger scored felt like an explosion of sound and energy. It felt like the entire arena was rooting against Novak.

And then came the moment. Federer was up 8-7 in the fifth set, serving for the championship with two match points. The crowd was already halfway out of their seats, ready to celebrate the perfect ending. But Novak had other plans. Standing there with everything stacked against him, he played those match points with an unshakable calm. First match point? A clean, fearless winner. Second match point? Another flawless shot. The silence that followed was deafening.

He went on to win that match 13-12 in the final set, with a tiebreaker sealing the longest final in Wimbledon history. But it wasn’t just the win that stayed with me. During the press conference, when asked how he coped with the crowd so clearly against him, Novak simply smiled and said he imagined they were cheering for him instead ("When the crowd chants Roger, I hear Novak"). I mean, who does that? Who takes thousands of people literally yelling for your opponent and turns it into your own personal cheering squad? That kind of mental strength is not something you can learn from a coach or a book. It's exactly what makes him different from anyone else out there.

(If you'd like to relive one of Novak Djokovic’s most defining moments, here’s the full match of the historic 2019 Wimbledon final against Roger Federer)

I often wonder what goes through his mind in those big moments, when the crowd is booing him, when his body is begging him to stop, when the younger players are trying to take his place. Does he feel fear, or has he trained himself to push it aside? Does he draw strength from the pressure, or does he simply refuse to acknowledge it? In those moments, is he fueled by the desire to prove himself, or is it something deeper? Whatever it is, it’s clear that his mindset is as extraordinary as his talent.

I see him differently now. Every match he plays teaches us something new about perseverance. When others get nervous, he becomes calmer. When they get tired, he grows stronger. When they doubt him, he believes even more. This is the same man who learned tennis in an empty swimming pool in Serbia during wartime. He kept going when people said he wasn’t good enough. And now, he’s winning matches against players who probably grew up with his poster on their walls.

His story is not just about tennis. It's about getting back up when life knocks you down. About staying strong when everyone expects you to break. About believing in yourself when nobody else does. That Olympic gold around his neck this year? It means more than just winning a tennis tournament. It's a proof that you're never too old to chase your dreams. That your biggest victories might still be ahead of you. That the only person who can tell you "you're done" is you.

Thank you, Novak, for showing us what real strength looks like. Not just the kind that wins tennis matches, but the kind that keeps believing when the odds seem impossible. The strength that transforms "you can't" into "just watch me."

You remind us that it doesn’t matter if the world doubts you, if the clock is ticking against you, or if the odds seem stacked against you. What truly matters is that you don’t turn against yourself. That’s a lesson far greater than any gold medal.

You’ve shown us how to fight, how to dream, and how to persevere. And for that, I’ll always carry a piece of your resilience to keep going, no matter what.