Dr. BJ Condrey

I was struck by something yesterday after learning that Carlos Alcaraz defeated Novak Djokovic, the man who holds the all-time record for most major championships in single’s men tennis. Of course, I didn’t know this until I spent about an hour or more watching the highlights, listening to the post-match interviews, and watching highlights from past Wimbledon tournaments reaching all of the way back to Andre Agassi’s first in 1992.

After losing the first set 1-6, Alcaraz appeared destined to lose yet again to Djokovic (who had beaten him earlier this year in the French Open’s semifinal). Amazingly, Alcaraz fought back and won a tie-break in the second set to make things even. He then went on to win in a 5-set, 5+ hour thriller.

After the match had ended, the two finalists speak on center court. It is really interesting to watch. The person that lost, with all of their disappointment and heartache, has only a few minutes to collect themselves and share their experience, thoughts, and emotions. In my opinion, listening to one who lost is more interesting than the person who won.

It is truly a humble moment. The one who lost must stand there, in front of everyone, and divulge a bit from their inner world as the person who was not good enough that day to beat their opponent. Djokovic took a moment and spoke to Alcaraz with somewhat of a fatherly, or mentor-like tone. I am not sure what to make of it. Was this true humility or, in an odd sense, yet another way to position himself as the master, the all time great? Who knows.

This then prompted me to turn it back and watch other past Wimbledon highlights from finals. In 2019, the great Roger Federer had more than one match point against Djokovic and still lost. Listening to Federer’s speech, as the loser, was inspiring. In the end, he ended by looking at his wife and kids in the audience and saying, “It is time now for me to return to being a husband and a father. It’s all good.” I was struck by these words. At this moment, one of the all-time greats admitted that tennis was a game and that as important as the sport and this particular tournament are, there are still more important things in life. What a beauty!

So, I will continue to listen to those that lose. I was so excited for Alcaraz to win his first major on grass. But more importantly, I deeply appreciate the fact that Wimbledon, in a sense, requires the humility of both its winners and losers. If you lose, you must own it, share it, and stand humbly before both the winner and the crowd. If you win, but you do so with grace, giving your victory speech while standing only a few feet from the one you just defeated.

More tennis.

More humility.

More respect.