Lesson 2: Admit There Are Things You Don’t Know

“Well, I am certainly wiser than this man.  It is only too likely that neither of us has any knowledge to boast of; but he thinks that he knows something which he does not know, whereas I am quite conscious of my ignorance.  At any rate, it seems that I am wiser than he is to this small extent, that I do not think that I know what I do not know.”                                                                                  —Plato, Apology

Rest assured: recognizing the existence of uncertainty or confessing to lack knowledge on a given subject doesn’t make one’s position any weaker.  One could do worse, after all, than take the lead from Socrates, who posited that awareness of one’s ignorance is a step along the path of learning.

In that spirit, here’s some stuff I don’t know:
●    What actually happened that day: what the relevant parties said, thought, felt, or did (beyond what is represented in the IADT & CAS reports).
●    If Viktor Troicki has ever used PEDs or was doping in April 2013.  (Some will argue that this is the only thing that matters & since Troicki didn’t submit blood for testing that day, he himself forestalled further discussion of the case.  Obviously, I disagree with that position.)
●    Whether Troicki &/or the DCO deliberately misrepresented anything (to anyone) on the days in question or in their subsequent testimony.
●    Anything about the DCO involved other than what’s contained in (and can be deduced from) the two decisions.
●    What was in the written statements submitted on behalf of the parties or the oral testimony of witnesses at either hearing, unless it was quoted in the case summaries.
●    What I would have done in the position of any of those concerned.
●    Many, many other things—for instance, what’s in appendices two, three, five, or six of this rather lengthy TADP document.

However, since the end of last July, when Troicki’s suspension was first announced, I’ve filled in a few gaps in my knowledge.  At this point, I should probably note that while my blog’s name is a reference to Lucy van Pelt’s sideline offering psychiatric advice, I am neither a medical doctor nor a psychologist.  Luckily, one doesn’t have to be a board-certified MD or a licensed mental-health provider to enter the phrase “needle phobia” into an internet search engine.  Here’s what I learned in a matter of minutes, thanks to Google.

●    “Needle phobia” is the common name for a specific phobia of the “blood-injection-injury” type.  Specialists estimate that between 4-10% of the population suffer from it.
●    A specific phobia—called that because it is an “unwarranted fear of specific objects or situations”—is, in turn, a subset of the broader category anxiety disorder.  As probably goes without saying, both the specific blood-injection-injury phobia and anxiety disorders are medically-recognized conditions, the criteria for which are outlined in professional guides such as the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.
●    Blood-injection-injury phobias (BIP) are marked by “a strong, persistent fear that is excessive or unreasonable,” and can be triggered by not only a present object (e.g., a needle) but also an expected procedure.  Whatever the specific stimulus, the response is anxiety, with physical discomfort and distress that can be severe—that is, a panic attack &/or loss of consciousness.  According to one clinician’s guide, “A person who must face one of these feared activities or objects will immediately begin to feel nervous or panicky, a condition known as anticipatory anxiety…. When it causes a patient to avoid feared situations, anticipatory anxiety can be a major inconvenience; it can even interfere with working” (259).  That the person may be aware his/her fear is “out of proportion to the actual danger or threat in the situation” doesn’t mean he/she has the power to control his/her response to it (6).
●    The condition—aspects of which can be genetically inherited, as well as learned—is a “neglected diagnosis,” in part because people who suffer from it “typically avoid medical care.”
●    Physiological symptoms associated with BIP include: sweat, muscle tension, trembling, heart palpitations, numbness, nausea, dizziness, lightheadedness, pallor, and difficulty breathing.  (While I consulted more authoritative sources than Wikipedia, much of the essential information is on that site.)
●    Significantly, BIP is also the only variety of specific phobia associated with vasovagal response, a type of neuro-cardiac episode involving decreased heart rate &/or blood pressure which can result in fainting.  Even if he/she doesn’t faint, a person suffering from a vasovagal episode “may experience an almost indescribable sensation of weakness or impending doom” (9).
●    As scientific studies have observed, BIPs “can be so severe that they interfere with receiving necessary medical care.”  Also, unlike patients with other kinds of phobia, those who suffer from BIP “are typically less responsive to relaxation techniques, which in fact may be counterproductive.”
●    Because BIP can cause fainting, falls, & associated trauma, it’s important that those drawing blood from a needle-phobic patient be aware of the condition and have ready assistance.

With this information at hand, let’s return to Pete Bodo’s assessment: “Personally, I have some trouble buying the idea that a strapping, 6’3” professional athlete in the full bloom of health is so squeamish that he can’t give blood.”  In concluding his post, Bodo observes, “The reality is that not you, not I, not even the great former No. 1 and six-time Grand Slam champion Novak Djokovic, really knows the truth about how and why Troicki decided to skip that blood test.”  He’s not entirely wrong, is he?  We don’t know the whole truth: after all, none of us were in the room or, more importantly, in Troicki’s body that day.  But here are a few things someone even minimally curious about blood-injection-injury phobia does know: that it’s not about being “squeamish” (consider both the imprecision and connotation of that word choice, if you will); that one of the three basic criteria of the condition is avoiding needle procedures altogether or, when unavoidable, enduring them with considerable distress; and that, yes, a professional athlete—whether “strapping” or not—can suffer from it.  That’s the thing about such medical disorders, which (in Troicki’s and some 75% of needle-phobes’ cases) have both inherited physiological and learned psychological components: they don’t discriminate.  And they don’t cease to exist or cause real difficulty in people’s personal and professional lives because some unaffected others are resistant to “buying the idea.”

While Bodo is certainly not the only tennis expert to establish himself as something less than that when it comes to needle phobia, his invocation of Troicki’s size, strength, and line of work in expressing his skepticism does considerably more harm than others’ inaccuracy or silence on the subject.  For starters, Bodo is among the most accomplished and respected of anglophone tennis writers; so, his word carries more weight than it might if he had a lesser reputation or smaller platform.  Next, he perpetuates ignorance and incuriosity about a mental-health condition by displaying his own—if not proudly, then certainly without hint of self-consciousness.  Further, he reinforces the stigma associated with the condition by implying it’s a kind of weakness.  (Although Bodo didn’t go the extra step of telling the Serb to “toughen up,” plenty of others suggested precisely this as a solution; one example is in the first reader question to which Tignor responds here.)  Not merely privately doubting but publicly questioning if Troicki—neither a tennis aesthete nor one of the WTA’s “tear-stained drama queens” but, let’s face it, a manly man—really suffers from an occasionally debilitating anxiety disorder speaks volumes about Bodo’s assumptions about physical ability, gender, mental health, and the relationship between them.  More than that, it speaks to the freedom people feel to judge and dismiss things they don’t understand.

This sort of attitude wouldn’t be so troubling if it weren’t so common.  That it is, unfortunately, so can be seen in many pop-cultural spheres, though sports appears to be lagging behind other parts of the entertainment industry when it comes to mental-health awareness.  Not incidentally, one of the best pieces of sports writing I read last year is “Man Up,” an essay Brian Phillips wrote on masculinity and mental health in response to a bullying scandal in the National Football League.  Tennis is not the NFL, and the mere fact that the former is an international, individual sport in which women and men compete alongside one another—on the same courts and, often, for equal prize money—means that there is more awareness of and sensitivity to difference than there might otherwise be.  But, as I’ll discuss in the next lesson, tennis is hardly ahead of the athletic pack when it comes to tackling mental-health issues among its ranks.

That Viktor Troicki suffers from a needle phobia—as opposed to being a person who simply “doesn’t like giving blood” or “didn’t want to provide a sample that day for his own personal reasons,” per Richard Ings’ characterizations—is abundantly clear from the IADT summary.  And if one doesn’t want to take Troicki’s word for it that “the giving of blood is something that he faces with trepidation and that induces feelings of panic,” that he has fainted during the procedure in the past, and “that he feels unwell for the rest of the day after” the process, there’s the testimony of Professor Slobodanka Djukić.  A specialist in microbiology and immunology who has treated Troicki in Belgrade, Professor Djukić confirmed that he “reported dizziness with vertigo, nausea and chest pain following the taking of blood samples” (B9I).  We might know even more about his condition had the IADT or CAS quoted from the statement the FFT’s Dr. Bernard Montalvan submitted on Troicki’s behalf.

Since neither the original decision nor the appeal went into much detail about how Troicki has responded to previous needle procedures as an ITF athlete undergoing required anti-doping tests or a human being seeking routine medical care, I decided to look into it myself.  Taking a bit more time than in my initial Google search, I gathered the following information about the condition.

●    Blood-injection-injury phobia—in part because it was only added to the DSM in 1994 and in part because people wrongly assume it’s “a simple issue”—is poorly understood and often dismissed, even by health-care professionals.  Still, as this clinical psychologist notes, “Good management of needle phobia can literally save lives.”
●    One of the challenges of researching BIP is that “the physical body is studied ‘in pieces’ in a number of different disciplines…. This is very apparent when reviewing the quantitative literature in and around needle phobia.  Classification as a specific phobia places needle phobia within the realm of psychology and psychiatry… and yet this is a fear that is accompanied by wide ranging physiological responses” (21).  In other words, while BIP isn’t “all in your head,” it is often regarded as the exclusive concern of proverbial “head-shrinkers.”  Several of the pieces I read indicated that needle-phobes are actually (even if not consciously) afraid of vasovagal syncope, not needles or blood—that is, of their body’s response, not the procedure in question.
●    Though many who suffer from BIP simply try to avoid triggering stimuli (e.g., by staying away from doctor’s offices), the condition can also be managed through alternative injection methods; with medication, from topical anesthetics & anti-anxiety drugs to sedation; and in therapy, particularly of the cognitive-behavioral variety.  Matthews notes that stories about treatment suggest “therapy, at best, needs to be highly individualized and is both very time consuming, expensive, and has variable success” (13).
●    Specific tips for managing phobias can be found here.  It bears repeating that trying to get someone who is needle-phobic to relax may well be the wrong thing to do, as it can actually increase the possibility of fainting.
●    A cognitive-behavioral psychologist I consulted recommended this title from the self-help aisle (and I can attest it makes perfectly decent airplane reading): Overcoming Medical Phobias: How to Conquer Fear of Blood, Needles, Doctors, and Dentists.
●    Unfortunately, “doctors, nurses, and other people tasked with administering vaccinations and drawing blood are not typically properly educated about needle phobia.  They’re accustomed to patients who dislike needles and may reassure them with promises that the puncture won’t hurt or will only take a minute.  But with a true needle phobic, these reassurances don’t work.”
●    As I wish went without saying, “the behaviour, skill and care afforded by health practitioners makes a significant difference in both preventing the development of needle phobia in children… and in lessening the phobic response and reported fear of adults” (13).  Chapter six of Matthews’ study offers recommendations for clinical practice, “in terms of [both] caring for patients with needle phobia and supporting and assisting nurses to provide expert technical and pathic care” (96).  Perhaps someone who works for the ITF &/or IDTM should read it.
●    Some evidence to support the claim that everything’s on YouTube: video tips for medical professionals who deal with patients’ fear of needles during the phlebotomy process.  Of course, not all such fears meet the diagnostic criteria for BIP.
●    Last, but not least, more needle-free procedures may soon be in our future.

What I take away from all of this is that there was nothing in the least unusual about Troicki’s seeking to avoid a needle procedure on that April day—or, for that matter, on any other.  Ings is no doubt correct when he observes, “seeking a pass that day was not necessary.”  At the same time, a statement like this fails to take the nature of the phobia into account.  Although it may not have been medically necessary “to skip it this time,” it clearly felt necessary to Troicki; in his words, he was “not able” to give blood (3.15C).  People with untreated BIP never want to give blood; they’d always prefer to bypass needle procedures—such is the condition.  In a case like this, where occasional blood testing is one of his professional obligations, Troicki has to cope with his condition better than he did that day.  This might be easier for him to do if he sought treatment (for all I know, he has done so over the past year).  In all likelihood, his condition would also be easier to manage if Viktor felt confident that the BCOs with whom he interacts on the job had been trained to deal with the challenges to the routine process someone like him poses.

There are so many “what if…?” questions we could ask about how the circumstances and outcome of that encounter might have been different.  What if Troicki had only been selected to give a urine sample that day?  What if he weren’t already feeling physically ill?  What if he’d encountered a DCO less inclined to be sympathetic and accommodating (this is not my view but, rather, how both Troicki and the CAS interpreted her behavior; see 9.12-14 and 9.28C) and more inclined to speak in authoritative, unequivocal terms about the seriousness of the situation?  I’m sure anyone reading this can think of other such questions.  The hypothetical question I think is most important (because it has implications far greater than Troicki’s one-year suspension) is this: what if the ITF recognized that needle phobia is a psychological disability that needs to be accommodated—for example, by modifying sample-collection procedures, as the International Standard for Testing, adopted by WADA signatories, allows for other forms of disability (see Appendix Four, section 5.4 and Annex B)?  I’ll return to the issue of disability in sports in lesson 4.

As I said at the outset, I don’t blame the DCO for not having been better prepared to handle the predicament last April.  It’s not her fault that “this was the first time [in 15 years of anti-doping work] that [she] found herself in the precise situation which she faced with Mr Troicki” (29aI).  (For that matter, we don’t even know if “the precise situation” refers to dealing with a player who’s requesting to get out of or delay giving a sample, dealing with a needle-phobic player, or both.)  Going forward, however, I will blame the ITF if they do little to learn from what transpired that day.  That writers weighing in on the subject, or other players and fans opining on it, could also stand to learn a bit more is fairly obvious from responses to Troicki’s case.  But the stakes of their not knowing relevant things—and, in many cases, seeming not to be aware they don’t know—are much lower.  Regardless, all those responding, whether formally or informally, would benefit from practicing empathy, the focus of lesson 3.  (Return to the discussion overview here.)

Lesson 1: Do Your Homework

A little learning is a dang’rous thing;/ Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.—Alexander Pope, “An Essay on Criticism”

Different tennis constituencies—including players, the ITF, and sports journalists—have work to do in order to avoid or better respond to similar situations in the future.  Many discussions of the case have focused on Troicki’s seeming naiveté or ignorance of the Tennis Anti-Doping Programme, suggesting the problem could have been avoided if only he’d known and followed “the rules”—that is, had he not sought an exemption from them in the first place.  This “lesson” identifies and discusses a number of other things that the case reveals need, at minimum, review.

Players
The 2013 anti-doping cases, as well as responses to them, have revealed that some—perhaps many—players don’t know as much as they should about a key aspect of their professional lives.  (We assume they know the rules of the game itself, but not even that is always so, as USA Today’s Doug Robson discovered last year at Indian Wells.)  A few players’ public statements on the issue, including Troicki’s, also raised eyebrows— whether with confusion, concern, surprise, or disapproval.  While top players, especially, have certain media obligations during tournaments, no player is required to answer any specific question from a journalist.  Particularly if asked about a controversial subject, responding with some version of “No comment” is always an option.  Players choosing to speak on the topic du jour—be it time limits between serves, equal prize money, or anti-doping policy and procedure—would do themselves a favor to know whereof they speak.

●    When in doubt about tennis basics, players—as well as fans, media, & officials—can always consult the ITF’s various rule-books.
●    Regarding the Tennis Anti-Doping Programme (TADP), this “wallet card” outlining the essentials is a must-have for both players and their team members (ahem, Jack Reader).  New in 2014: a “wallet card” for mobile phones.
●    That players need to understand the TADP requirements, familiarize themselves with standard procedures, and know which substances are prohibited—as well as, more broadly, what constitutes a rule violation—seems like a no-brainer.  At the same time, I think it’s a bit much to expect players to have read the entire TADP document or to know the sanctions for rule violations they have no intention of committing.  (I don’t know about you, but I can’t tell you how much speeding tickets cost in my city, though I exceed the limit knowingly and on the regular.)
●   As important as players’ TADP responsibilities are their rights.  Note that there are a number of valid reasons for a player to delay reporting to—or temporarily leave—the Doping Control Station (DCS).
●   Significantly, the ITF’s sheet on players’ rights & responsibilities is missing one key point listed on WADA’s Doping Control Form: “If you are an athlete with a disability, [you have the right to] request modifications to the sample collection procedure” (4; I discuss why this might be so in section 4).

Viktor Troicki, were he more familiar with his rights or had he consulted his wallet card (what are the chances that players bring their wallets to the DCS after a match?), may have been able to remind the DCO of the following: “Provided that [players] are chaperoned, [they] may delay reporting to and/or leave the DCS for one of the following activities: …obtaining medical treatment… [and] other exceptional circumstances, which must be approved by the DCO.”  Even if Troicki wasn’t aware of this right, the DCO—noting “he did not look well; he looked tired and weak,” having been informed of his needle phobia, and hearing his concerns about giving blood in this condition—certainly could have sought assistance herself or recommended he seek medical attention from another doctor (11I).

In fact, the CAS addressed this possibility both directly and indirectly.  First, they included the following detail, missing from the IADT report, in their overview of the case’s “factual background”: the DCO’s supervisor, when informed by e-mail of what had happened with Troicki that afternoon, responded by asking, “Did you call for the ATP doctor on site?” (3.21).  Comparing the CAS decision with sections 18-19 & 21 of the IADT document, it becomes clear that the latter presents the matter as if the player’s actions, not the DCO’s, were in question.  After hearing from her supervisor, the DCO made several inquires about whether Troicki had subsequently gone to see a doctor, and even suggested to the ATP supervisor that it “was not good for him” that he hadn’t.  (There’s no indication where that idea originated, but one effect of it in the IADT text is to imply that neither player nor coach took Troicki’s condition seriously.  There are certainly other ways of interpreting the flurry of activity on the DCO’s part, as well as the fact that Troicki wasn’t the one who took the initiative to follow up with officials the next morning.)  Second, they note that they would expect a DCO to “have been provided with the telephone numbers of relevant tournament personnel she could have contacted to assist her in such a situation” (9.28.1). Unfortunately, she wasn’t; nor did her office have internet access.  Third, their conclusion observes that the panel “finds surprising that there is no provision in the [TADP] requiring a DCO to call for the attendance of an ATP representative (for example an ATP doctor) in any case where an athlete refuses or fails to submit a sample collection, for medical or other reasons, or to remind the athlete about his or her rights and duties under the Programme” (10.2).  Not incidentally, while both the IADT and CAS decisions make numerous references to requirements and responsibilities, this sentence contains the only mention of a player’s rights in either document.

The CAS analysis confirms that the DCO didn’t clearly articulate the possible—indeed, likely, if not certain—consequences of failing to submit a sample to Troicki or his coach (see sections 9.9-14 and 9.28).  What the the arbitration panel didn’t do, in my view, is press further regarding other ways the DCO and Troicki could have resolved their impasse.  Specifically, they didn’t seem to challenge a rather beside-the-point comment from the DCO: that “the DCO and his or her assistant cannot leave the DCS” (9.28.1).  As the TADP materials establish, the player may temporarily leave the DCS, as long as he/she is chaperoned.  As it happens, Roger Federer provided an example of such “exceptional circumstances” in London: once, after being selected to provide a urine sample, he couldn’t “go to the toilet.”  “It’s happened to me one time,” he shared; “Then the [chaperone] has to stay with you all night.  It just becomes really complicated.”  (Maybe it’s me, but that sounds more awkward than complicated.  Was Mirka there, too?)  In the case at hand, the player or his coach could have gone to fetch an ATP doctor—whether to provide treatment or to assist with the drawing of blood.  And had Troicki been accompanied by a chaperone over night, his blood test the next morning may have meant much more than it did.  So, while it may be true that the DCO didn’t have the authority to tell Troicki if his medical condition was a “compelling justification” for skipping a blood test altogether, it’s not the case that players aren’t ever allowed to delay giving samples.  Unless I’m misinterpreting the TADP, that is, both Troicki and the DCO had other—likely mutually agreeable—options that fell within the rules.

✍✍✍

As for players speaking to media on anti-doping issues, I was impressed by the measured comments in press from most who were asked about the subject.  (Reactions from the week after the two ATP suspensions were announced are here.)  However, when addressing the Troicki case, specifically, I think a few players erred in saying too much on the basis of too little knowledge.  For instance, Federer’s comments in Shanghai and London suggest he wasn’t following the case very closely (which is, of course, his prerogative).  His general responses wouldn’t be a problem in the least if those quoting them noted that they were just that—general responses.  Granted, it doesn’t make for great copy to quote the GOAT saying, “Uhm, look, I don’t know the conversation, the situation, exactly what happened” or “Honestly, I don’t talk a whole lot with other players about it.”  But it wouldn’t hurt to acknowledge that he is speaking largely from personal experience, so that statements like “I believe whatever [the CAS] decided on” should be taken with a grain of salt, since they’re not coming from someone who has spent much (if any) time looking over their decision.

On the other end of the spectrum from the diplomatic Swiss is Djoković, who was arguably following the Troicki case too closely and not closely enough at the same time.  What I mean is that Novak, while proving to be a loyal friend and passionate advocate of players’ rights, did not always establish himself a master of objectivity or reading comprehension.  This last may be a bit unfair, as I doubt Djoković had time to read a 31-page document (in its entirety or closely) before making his “statement” following a match with Federer the day of the CAS decision.  But, in both London and Beijing a month earlier, Novak made what I think are ill-advised, even irresponsible, comments about the DCO in Troicki’s case, saying “she was lying a lot” and accusing her of “negligence and… unprofessionalism.”  Though I appreciate that he was speaking from the heart, and believe he had plenty of worthwhile criticisms of both the procedure in this case and larger issues of tennis politics, his legitimate points were somewhat overshadowed by the less accurate, more sensational (and thus headline-grabbing) ones.

ITF
As Troicki’s case makes abundantly clear, the ITF—and, specifically, the IDTM firm to whom they’ve outsourced their drug-testing efforts—needs to improve sample-collecting protocols to decrease the possibility that their staff are muddying, rather than clarifying, the waters.  Comparing the IADT and CAS decisions, it’s tough not to be struck by the different pictures they paint.  Little of this helps the ITF’s credibility with regard to anti-doping efforts.
●   The CAS panel’s analysis (especially sections 9.7-14 and 9.27-28) and conclusion merit review by everyone involved in the TADP.
●    ITF president Francesco Ricci Bitti is certainly right to encourage interested parties to read the CAS decision, and probably isn’t wrong that some “critics of Viktor Troicki’s doping suspension have misunderstood” aspects of it.  At the same time, I doubt it’s true that all disagreement with the decision is due to “a problem of words”—for instance, a failure to grasp the difference between “no fault” and “no significant fault.”  Ricci Bitti might earn some credit with players by indicating a willingness to listen to critics’ legitimate concerns about how this case was handled by both the IDTM representative and the IADT, in particular.
●    The ITF has already indicated procedures are “likely to be changed in 2014 to say that, where a player refuses or fails to provide a sample (as Mr. Troicki did), the doping control officer should try to offer the player an opportunity to speak to the event supervisor or referee to confirm the player’s responsibilities under the program.”  Hopefully, this change will also mention that players should be given a chance to speak to a doctor or other advocate—not merely rule-enforcers—before or during DCS visits.
●   From manager Stuart Miller on down, those involved in any aspect of the TADP might review players’ rights under the program (elaborated upon in Appendix 4 of the TADP).
●    The ITF leadership could also stand to reflect a bit more on the fact that the stated purpose of the TADP is not only “to maintain the integrity of tennis” but also “to protect the health and rights of tennis players participating in Covered Events” (1.1).

In reading over the relevant documents, I didn’t find a lot of evidence to support the idea that the DCO in this case did much to “to protect the health and rights” of a player who was physically ill, experiencing anxiety about his needle procedure, and looking to avoid a full-blown panic attack and/or fainting episode when he entered the DCS.  On the one hand, I don’t blame her: regardless of whether the Blood Collection Officer holds a medical degree, it’s not actually the DCO’s job to treat patients.  Instead, as their titles— emphasizing “control” and “collection”—indicate, they are officers of the “law” that is the TADP: specifically, the World Anti-Doping Code (see 1.2, 1.7).  Further, if this DCO was less than adept in handling a needle-phobe, she is hardly unique in this and likely didn’t get much help from the player, as I’ll discuss in the next section.  On the other hand, while they are not technically doctors caring for patients but officers implementing (and, to some degree, enforcing) the “law” upon its “subjects,” BCOs are still operating in the guise of health-care professionals.  The procedure they are responsible for isn’t an administrative transaction (like filling in a form) but one involving fairly intimate contact with real—and sometimes vulnerable—human bodies.  So, in cases like this, as the CAS suggested, it’s reasonable to expect the DCO to seek assistance from another doctor on site or at least advise the player to get medical attention elsewhere since he/she is not in a position to provide it.  Neither of these things happened in Monte Carlo last April.

Nor did I find evidence in the IADT or CAS decisions to indicate that they gave much thought to the matter of Troicki’s “health and rights.”  Although both groups accepted his needle phobia diagnosis as a fact, it was barely discussed in their decisions.  They did acknowledge Viktor’s “stress” as a mitigating factor when it came to determining his penalty (46I).  But they didn’t, in my view, take it sufficiently seriously when addressing whether he had a “compelling justification” for committing the rule violation in the first place or in considering how the ITF, going forward, might adjust their procedures to accommodate needle-phobic players—specifically, with reference to the part of the TADP that addresses, in a limited way, “modifications for athletes with disabilities” (Appendix 4, section 5.4.1 and Annex B).  That Troicki’s preexisting medical condition played a significant role in the interaction between him and the DCO would be self-evident to anyone who understands what needle phobia entails.  But maybe that’s precisely the problem: it’s not obvious that the anti-doping authorities involved—from the DCO on up to the two doctors who sat on the IAD tribunal—had the requisite knowledge.

Nevertheless, the IADT felt free to repeatedly opine on Troicki’s “state of mind” (50I).  Most notably, they judged his credibility as a witness, assessed how “reasonable” he was on the day in question (39, 44I), and concluded that “Mr Troicki acted in the way that he did in consequence of the stress that he was under—in this case, as a result of a combination of his physical condition and his panic at the prospect of giving blood” (46I).  Call me crazy, but it would be my preference that those using “a little psychoanalysis”—as Tignor describes the Tribunal’s process in deciding to accept the DCO’s account of events over Troicki’s—be trained in the field and experienced with the medical condition in question. (The IADT members in this case are specialists in sports medicine, physiotherapy, and anti-doping; as far as I’m aware, no psychologist provided testimony.)

Tennis Experts                                                                                                                Many of those addressing anti-doping policy and procedure need to take greater care with such work, starting with reading the IADT or CAS rulings before commenting on specific cases.  While I’m using “experts” to refer to journalists above all, I also have in mind tv commentators, bloggers, and those with expert or informational power, if not formal positions, in the tennis world.  (Among the second group, for example, I include the anonymous blogger who runs the THASP site and Richard Ings, the former umpire who headed the ATP’s anti-doping program a decade ago, whose Twitter feed focuses on “drugs in sport”).  The expert’s professional position—and social media platform—brings with it some responsibilities.  Since informing readers is first among them, it seems worth double-checking to see that one has gotten the facts right, quoted sources accurately, provided relevant context, and not left out any important details.

For what it’s worth, I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to wade through lengthy documents about the Troicki case.  After all, not every tennis writer relishes close-reading texts or has a law degree (though at least three North Americans—Courtney Nguyen, Kamakshi Tandon, and Jon Wertheim—do).  But if one is going to discuss it in print, can’t we agree there’s a minimum amount of preparation one should do?  After all, an opinion unsupported by a decent grasp of the issues is next to worthless to tennis fans, who can access the reports themselves.

Before proceeding, let me be clear that I don’t think any journalist discussing the case deliberately or maliciously distorted it to favor either Troicki’s or the ITF’s claims.  Repeatedly, though, writers got aspects of the case wrong—or not quite right.

A sample:
1.    A BBC article on the case claimed that “two independent panels have concluded that [the DCO] did inform the Serb of the consequences of leaving the anti-doping room without first providing a blood sample.”  This is simply not so.  The IADT accepted the ITF’s argument that the DCO hadn’t given Troicki “unequivocal assurance, without any qualification” that “he definitely would not be sanctioned if he did not give blood on that occasion” (39, 44I; my emphasis).  Further, the CAS agreed with them that the DCO a) told Troicki that she did not have the authority to determine if his reason for delaying the blood test was valid, and b) eventually got him to sign the BCF acknowledging awareness that his behavior “may be treated as an anti-doping rule violation” (12I, my emphasis; the corresponding phrases in 9.29C note that he “could” or “might face sanctions”).  However, they were quite critical of a number of things the DCO “did and did not do,” going so far as to say that she’d “failed to heed [IDTM] recommendations” that might have prevented Troicki from exiting the DCS believing there would be no problem (9.11, 9.13C).  Notably, there was no evidence that the DCO told Troicki that the standard penalty for breaking the rule in question is a two-year suspension.  Had she done so, there would have been no need for this information to be conveyed in a footnote of the IADT ruling (40I) and, needless to say, no reason for the CAS to make the recommendations they did (10.2-3C).

2.    Predictably, Serbian media were most interested in Troicki’s version of events and the reactions of their other top players.  Unfortunately, there was widespread failure to note that short of the CAS overturning the IADT decision, the one-year mandatory minimum ban was the best possible outcome for Troicki.  Nor did local journalists correct Djoković’s assertion that his teammate’s not being allowed to enter Belgrade Arena during the final stages of Davis Cup was “not a normal situation.”  Who knows if ITF spokesman Nick Imison’s idea of circulating hard-copy excerpts of the relevant policy for suspended players resulted in more accurate coverage of the matter; after all, a headline quoting Novak—“Troicki’s not a terrorist or murderer”—draws more eyeballs.

3.    In various English-language outlets, including Sports Illustrated, Troicki’s reasons for seeking to avoid or delay having blood drawn were understated, with writers saying Troicki didn’t “give a sample because he said he felt unwell,”  “was ill on the day,” or was “too sick.”  (In fairness, both Nguyen and Wertheim had mentioned Troicki’s fear of needles in earlier posts on the topic, although only the former used the clinical term “phobia.”)  Still other articles, while raising plenty of good points about the case, didn’t mention Troicki’s mental &/or physical condition—only that he did “not want to take a [blood] test.”  Such oversights seem telling, even if it’s not obvious what they’re saying.

4.    Unsurprisingly, then, top players also described aspects of the case in incomplete, if not entirely inaccurate, ways.  For example, Federer: “I do believe that when you are requested for a sample, you have to give the sample.  It doesn’t matter how bad you feel.  I’m sorry.”  As I’ll elaborate in the next section, “feeling bad” doesn’t adequately capture what’s involved during a needle-phobic episode; nor does it address the other factors contributing to the misunderstanding between Troicki and the DCO.

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At the risk of alienating my friends at Tennis magazine, I’ll single out their colleague Pete Bodo for not doing his homework before weighing in on the matter.  Focusing on three sentences of his “Three Controversies” post should be enough to make my point.  Bodo offers: “Personally, I have some trouble buying the idea that a strapping, 6’3” professional athlete in the full bloom of health is so squeamish that he can’t give blood.”  I’ll get to the most problematic parts of this comment in the next section.  Suffice it to say here that anyone checking Troicki’s ATP profile will learn he’s 6’4”; further, witnesses to the day in question attested to his lack of a rosy glow (including the DCO, who had nothing to gain by doing so).  It may seem petty or pedantic to call attention to minor errors like this, but my motivation is a serious one.  If readers can’t count on writers to get basic, easily verifiable facts right, how can we trust them on more complicated matters of interpretation or argument?

“What happened to Troicki was a manifestation of the drug-testing protocol working exactly as it should,” Bodo continues.  Other than Stuart Miller and other ITF executives looking to save face in the wake of a major controversy, how many people familiar with the case would endorse this claim?  Bodo is, of course, welcome to disagree with Djoković—and to agree with the CAS and virtually everyone in the anglophone media—about whether Troicki had a “compelling justification” for failing to give blood when selected.  But even those who take no issue with the ultimate outcome of the investigation and appeal are likely aware of the problems with the ITF’s testing procedure illuminated by Troicki’s case.  Can’t or don’t want to read the full CAS report before pressing “publish”?  That’s ok.  You could skip ahead to its conclusion and peruse two paragraphs to discover this statement is off-base.  If you have a bit more time on your hands (say, enough to read five pages), you could look over the measured criticisms of the process in section 9, too.  For that matter, you could read Steve Tignor’s analysis of the decision, posted the day before his colleague’s piece.

According to Bodo, the ITF’s testing protocols operate by way of the “same rules for all, zero tolerance for cheats or excuse making.”  This statement is fine—in the abstract.  But how well does it apply to Troicki’s case, in particular?  Not even the ITF tried to prove that the Serbian player was a “cheat.”  Those who read the CAS analysis know the panel agreed with the IADT’s finding that “there is no suggestion that this failure or refusal [to give blood] was in fact prompted by the player’s desire to evade the detection of a banned substance in his system” (9.28.4).  Was Troicki “making excuses” on that April day or engaged in “outright lying” subsequently?  Interestingly enough, all four aspects of his argument for “compelling justification” (a pre-existing needle phobia, physical illness, a panicked state of mind, and the DCO’s lack of clarity) were either accepted as fact or granted considerable weight by the CAS.  They’re the reasons, after all, that his appeal was partially upheld.  Lastly, is it even a good idea for the system to treat a player with a needle phobia the same way that it treats a player without one—that is, to fail to acknowledge or accommodate a disability?  The criticisms Djoković and others have made is not of a rule, per se, but of how it was and should be implemented in practice.  In sum, Bodo’s presentation of the case leaves a lot to be desired and leads us to lesson 2: feel free to admit when there’s something you don’t know.  (Return to the discussion overview here.)

Headcases & Homework: Reactions to Viktor Troicki

Preface: I posted parts of this introduction in December, then decided to hold off on the rest until the completion of Troicki’s ban.  Now that he’s returned to action, the time seems right to reflect on what we did and didn’t learn from his case.

In a review of the 2013 tennis season, Steve Tignor called doping suspensions the “controversy of the year.”  Here, I’ll focus on reactions to the case that generated the most debate, aiming to develop a point Tignor makes at the outset of his column: “the game’s testing system remains a learning process for all concerned.”  Perhaps unlike him, I consider those concerned to include not only players and doping authorities but the tennis media and fans as well.  Because I’m not writing for a tennis publication, I’ve also got more latitude in drawing four general lessons from Troicki’s case and connecting them to issues in the wider world.  So, expect fewer citations of anti-doping policy from me and more references to psychology, philosophy, and even literature (does Peanuts count as “literature”?).

As will become increasingly clear, I’m interested in one dimension of the Troicki story above all others: the mental-health angle (an imperfect phrase I’ll parse in lesson 2).  Why this is so has partly to do with the extent to which it seems to have been neglected in most discussions of the case, and partly to do with how important the matter of mental health is—not simply in this specific instance, or sports more generally, but in life.

After this introduction, I’m not going to rehearse familiar details of the case, as they are available for all to read and have been dissected elsewhere.  Instead, I want to stake out a position from the start: I believe this incident, including how it was resolved, raises more questions than many others writing about it (not least, those publishing 140 characters at a time) seem to.  Further, I don’t think it makes sense to separate the issue of whether Troicki submitted the required blood sample that spring day in Monte Carlo from that of why he did or didn’t do so—something we can’t address without exploring his needle phobia in greater depth.  Troicki’s failure to fulfill his professional responsibilities has gotten plenty of attention.  What has generated less discussion than I think they deserve are his rights—how he should, ideally, have been treated as both a professional tennis player and a human being.

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Analyses of the case, including the ITF’s Independent Anti-Doping Tribunal (IADT) and Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) appeal decisions, tend to rest on three questions.  The first is about as straightforward as they come: “Did Viktor Troicki give a blood sample immediately after he was notified that he’d been selected for testing?”  Since Troicki himself doesn’t dispute that the answer to this is “No,” most concluded that he had clearly broken an anti-doping rule and moved on to the second question, one of judgment rather than fact: “What is the appropriate sanction for this violation?”  Not even Troicki’s staunchest public defender, Novak Djoković, argued that his compatriot bears no responsibility for what transpired in Monte Carlo: “as a tennis pro, our job is to play, of course, tennis and respect all the rules and know all the rules of our sport…. I’m not saying that it’s completely not his fault,” the Serb acknowledged during the World Tour Finals in November.  But because he nevertheless regards the outcome of the appeal as a “total injustice,” we can assume Djoković disagrees with the CAS on the stickiest point: “Did Troicki have a compelling justification for failing to provide a blood sample?

Like many others viewing the case, the then-ATP #2 zeroed in on the “he said, she said” conflict between the player and the Doping Control Officer (DCO) as central to the case. (Though one is tempted to refer to them as “patient” and “doctor,” this is would be a mistake, for reasons I’ll elaborate in lesson 1.)  Did the DCO tell the player that “it will not be a problem” and it “should be all right” if he didn’t give a blood sample that day, as Troicki claims (16c, 3.13.1*)?  Whereas the IADT found the DCO’s account much more credible than Troicki’s (and thus concluded the DCO had not offered “an unequivocal assurance” [39I]), Djoković, unsurprisingly, believed the word of his friend of nearly twenty years.  Though they still assigned the player a degree of fault, the CAS panel scrutinized the DCO’s role in the interaction more closely, calling it “a misunderstanding,” enumerating a number of the DCO’s “acts and omissions” that contributed to it, and reducing Troicki’s suspension to the ITF-mandated minimum of one year (9.9, 9.14).  As Tignor has observed, “Djokovic may not agree with the CAS’s decision, but the CAS agrees with him,” offering both criticisms of the procedure and suggestions for how it might be improved.  Given that the CAS determined Troicki bore “no significant fault or negligence” with regard to the rule violation, it’s entirely possible they would have reduced his penalty still further had that been an option.  (*Parenthetical citations refer to paragraph numbers in the two rulings, abbreviated I for IADT and C for CAS.)

I take a different position from both Djoković and the CAS, though I similarly focus on the interaction between player and DCO, as well as between the DCO and others, including her supervisor at IDTM, to whom she reported immediately after the initial encounter.  (Those familiar with the case will recall that player & officer met again the next day, at the latter’s initiative; see 21-24I and 3.22-25C for details).  Troicki’s team argued that the case against him should be dismissed due to four intertwined factors: not that “the facts of his illness at the time, his phobia of needles and his panic at the likely physical consequences for him of giving blood would of themselves amount to ‘compelling justification’” for not providing a sample that day but, rather, that these three things “in conjunction with” the DCO’s assurances do (38I).  Based on my research, I believe their interaction was likely complicated by additional factors not discussed in the IADT report and mainly alluded to by the CAS: namely, that Troicki was not aware of his rights—particularly, but not only, as a player with a disability—and that the DCO was both unaware of (or ignored) other options available to her and ill-equipped by her training to handle someone experiencing a phobic reaction to the prospect of a needle procedure.  Ultimately, both of the latter, if accurate, are failings that must be addressed at the administrative level by the ITF.

Because I was not in the room last April and, more importantly, am not an expert on needle phobia, some of my claims are necessarily speculative.  (Call those “thought experiments,” if you wish.)  The evidence I invoke to support my points, I hasten to add, is not.  My view, developed at what is almost certainly too great a length for most readers, is that Troicki’s was a mismanaged disability case, in addition to—or perhaps more so than—a case of a Tennis Anti-Doping Programme (TADP) violation.  In other words, I believe the above-mentioned circumstances amounted to compelling justification for Troicki’s breaking the rule in question.  In the best-case scenario, of course, that would have been avoided altogether through a joint effort by both player and DCO, in consultation with other officials on site and in line with established policy.  However, I don’t believe that Troicki’s condition at the time or lack of awareness of his rights is a justification for representatives of the ITF not to respect them, either during or after the fact.  It’s obviously too late now for the CAS to reconsider the case or for Troicki to get a year of his professional life back.  But given that similarly challenging situations may arise, with Viktor or another needle-phobic player, both the ITF and those governed by their rules need to be better prepared.  In order for that to happen, policy and procedure related to the taking of blood samples require updating, and affected players and staff need educating.  Such things, in short, will require advocacy and follow-through on someone’s part.  While, to my knowledge, no one with power to effect change is actively discussing these issues or pursuing them through concrete steps, I hope to be corrected.

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From Umag, where Troicki first learned of the ITF’s decision to suspend him, to Washington, where other ATP players responded to the news, from Belgrade to Beijing and London to Lausanne, this case made for much controversy.  On Twitter, in online comment sections, and in press conferences—not least, of Serbian Davis Cup team members—there was often more heat than light.  The source of this heat ranges.  Look and you will find strong emotions, misinformation, ignorance, hyperbole, conspiracy theories, and (what is to me) unwarranted certainty.  Also significant are a number of oversights, oversimplifications, and silences, the reasons for which may be more difficult to pinpoint.

In case anyone reading needs this reminder: learning is a lifelong process.  Here are highlights from the lessons I’m taking away.  For further discussion &/or more sources, please click on the individual section numbers.

1. Do your homework.

A little learning is a dang’rous thing;/ Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.  There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,/ And drinking largely sobers us again.
—Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism (1711)

Different tennis constituencies—including players, the ITF, and sports journalists—have work to do in order to avoid or better respond to similar situations in the future.  Many discussions of the case have focused on Troicki’s seeming naiveté or ignorance of the TADP, suggesting the problem never would have arisen if only he’d known and followed “the rules”—that is, had he not sought a partial exemption from them in the first place.  This section identifies and discusses a number of other things that the case and subsequent coverage reveal need, at minimum, review.

Troicki’s resistance to having his blood drawn at the requested time was greeted with surprise and incredulity in both media and player circles.  A typical response, for instance, was to point out that “the rule is there for a reason and is pretty simple.”  The thing is, there’s not much evidence to support the claim, made by too many to name, that Troicki disregarded or didn’t understand the rules.  He reported to the Doping Control Station directly after his match, gave the required urine sample, and then asked to be excused from giving blood; he also delayed signing the requisite form until after he’d had a discussion with the DCO.  Say what you will about those last two steps and their implications (and I’ll say lots more about the former), the fact is that neither of them is against the rules and actually show an awareness of them.  Nevertheless, people discussing the case and Troicki’s reaction to the penalty implied that he “arbitrarily” broke the rules by “skipping” a test, as if he rather capriciously failed to show up altogether, and was then confused about why he got in trouble.

One of the most frequently misrepresented aspects of the case is the suggestion that Troicki asked to and “claims he was told by the ITF official that he could take the test the next day.”  In fact, Troicki did not ask to take the blood test the next day.  What he was after was not a 24-hour delay but a pass, essentially, until the next time he was randomly selected for testing.  Per the IADT report, “he asked if there was any chance that he did not have to give blood on that occasion” (15b).  In Troicki’s own words, from the explanatory note he appended to the required form: “I always did blood tests before, and I [will] do them in the future, but today I was not [able to] provide [a] blood sample” (15e; my emphasis).  That he ended up giving blood the next day is almost entirely a result of the fact that the DCO herself initiated contact with him.  She went looking for him, enlisted the ATP supervisor’s help in finding him (recall that, as he had lost the day before, Troicki was officially out of the tournament), and told Viktor “there could be a problem” (see sections 21-24I).  Upon hearing that, as if for the first time, the player then asked, “Does it make any sense to do the blood test today, since I am feeling better today?”  If the DCO were entirely confident about how she’d handled the previous day’s encounter, would she have gone in search of him and would he have had the opportunity to ask this question?  We’ll never know.  But the fact is that she certainly didn’t need to talk to him or take his blood the next day.  Nor was that procedure something Troicki, who left the DCS the day before thinking he’d gotten out of the blood test altogether, is likely to have requested if left to his own devices.  Why this is so will be discussed in the next section.

2. Feel free to admit when there’s something you don’t know.

Socrates: “Well, I am certainly wiser than this man.  It is only too likely that neither of us has any knowledge to boast of; but he thinks that he knows something which he does not know, whereas I am quite conscious of my ignorance.  At any rate, it seems that I am wiser than he is to this small extent, that I do not think that I know what I do not know.”                                                                                              —Plato, Apology

Rest assured: recognizing the existence of uncertainty or confessing to lack knowledge on a given subject doesn’t make one’s position any weaker.  One could do worse, after all, than take the lead from Socrates, who posited that awareness of one’s ignorance is a step along the path of learning.

Unfortunately, saying “I don’t know” doesn’t bring many readers to one’s website, newspaper column, or talk-show (for you youngsters, a “podcast”).  Journalists, bloggers, tweeters, and other sports commentators make a name for themselves and develop a following by having opinions and being able to come up with them as quickly as the news cycle (or tennis calendar) demands.  This is obviously not the place to diagnose the current condition of sports journalism.  Rather, I want to point out that the need to say something—fast and frequently—can yield less than well-supported views and positions, which are often not adjusted, even if or when new information is acquired.

In terms of the Troicki case, needle phobia is the topic most commenters would have done well to acknowledge an insufficient grasp of—both in general and in terms of how it may have affected the events of that specific day.  Many addressing the controversy simply ignored this aspect of the incident (which is certainly one, if not the best, way of dealing with the unfamiliar).  But some writers took the opposite approach: not proceeding as if it didn’t exist or wasn’t worth discussing but acting all-too-certain about its relevance.  As I’ve noted above, I think Troicki’s needle phobia is central to understanding the case; hence, it’s the focus of this “lesson.”

I’d already written this section when I ran across a recent piece that’s an example of the type of thing that set me off on a weeks-long research binge last November.  As a result of that reading, I can state with confidence that Troicki’s needle phobia is a corroborated matter of fact.  It’s a preexisting medical condition with both psychological and physiological symptoms—not a claim, not a suggestion, not a figment of his imagination, and not an “excuse” Viktor came up with one day because he was selected to submit a blood sample.  It was accepted as such by both the IADT and the CAS on the basis of, among other “clear and convincing evidence,” the testimony of one of the French Tennis Federation’s chief medical officers, Dr. Bernard Montalvan (9I).  In spite of this, numerous journalists felt free to dismiss it as a significant factor in the case—in the process, casting doubt not only on Troicki’s word (plus that of his coach, trainer, father, Davis Cup teammates, and friends/colleagues since childhood like Andrea Petković) but also, if indirectly, on that of the medical experts who submitted statements supporting it.

While this may seem, to some, an overly strong reaction to the skepticism, my view is that any journalist who suggests this part of “Troicki’s story was not corrobarated [sic] by the authorities” is open to numerous charges, including poor reading comprehension skills, sloppiness, laziness, irresponsibility, &/or bias.  Frankly, unless you’re an experienced phlebotomist, psychologist, or someone familiar with current thinking on blood-injection-injury phobias, I don’t want to hear your musings on whether “having a little blood drawn was. . . going to harm Troicki if he was feeling a little under-the-weather.”  In fact, I think it’d be best if no one heard such ill-informed speculations.  I do my best in this section to help readers become more informed about the condition and consider the ways in which it may have influenced matters for both Troicki and the DCO that day.

3. Practice empathy.

As we have no immediate experience of what other men feel, we can form no idea of the manner in which they are affected, but by conceiving what we ourselves should feel in the like situation.  Though our brother is upon the rack, as long as we ourselves are at our ease, our senses will never inform us of what he suffers.  They never did, and never can, carry us beyond our own person, and it is by the imagination only that we can form any conception of what are his sensations.  Neither can that faculty help us to this any other way, than by representing to us what would be our own, if we were in his case.  It is the impressions of our own senses only, not those of his, which our imaginations copy.  By the imagination we place ourselves in his situation, we conceive ourselves enduring all the same torments, we enter as it were into his body, and become in some measure the same person with him, and thence form some idea of his sensations, and even feel something which, though weaker in degree, is not altogether unlike them.  His agonies, when they are thus brought home to ourselves, when we have thus adopted and made them our own, begin at last to affect us, and we then tremble and shudder at the thought of what he feels.  For as to be in pain or distress of any kind excites the most excessive sorrow, so to conceive or to imagine that we are in it, excites some degree of the same emotion, in proportion to the vivacity or dulness of the conception.
—Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759)

None of us—not members of the two tribunals, the tennis media, other players, or the author and readers of this piece—witnessed what happened in the Monte Carlo tournament DCS that day.  Though we may have read Troicki’s brief version of events in the case documents or a handful of interviews, what we haven’t heard in vivid detail is what it feels like for him to go through a phobic episode.  I suspect there are good reasons for this.  For example, while the word “phobia” appears three times in the IADT (B9, D38, E46) and once in the CAS decision (3.8), Troicki himself doesn’t use that word in any of his quoted statements.  This linguistic choice, which likely reflects “a tendency to downplay the fear and the significance it had in [his life],” aligns with what researchers have observed: “The very nature of the fear means it is not generally thought or talked about” (54, ii).  Nevertheless, it’s unfortunate because it means we’re missing a key part of the story.  But even in the absence of first-hand experience, observation, or abstract knowledge of something (what some might call “book learnin’”), we can still use our imaginations.

This section focuses on the difficulty of talking about mental-health issues in public—and thus, of combating both ignorance and stigma.  These difficulties may very well be why we haven’t seen much discussion of Troicki’s condition in media reports on his case. However, recognizing that something’s unfamiliar or difficult isn’t a reason to avoid it.  On the contrary, it’s a reason to pursue it by whatever means we have at our disposal.  My effort is ongoing: I’ve reached out to the player’s representatives and hope to interview him once he’s settled back into the routine of week-in, week-out life on tour.  But there’s no guarantee he’ll be willing to delve into the topic that I think most needs his insight.  After this “lesson,” I hope more people will understand why Viktor might be reluctant to do so on the record.

It’s worth emphasizing from the outset that practicing empathy in this case doesn’t necessitate changing your position on whether the CAS decision was correct or Troicki’s suspension just.  What I’m most trying to encourage readers to do, going forward, is imagine what needle-phobes (in general) and needle-phobic players (in particular) experience every time they’re faced with a blood-drawing procedure.

4. Acknowledge ambiguity & complexity.

Theory is good, but it doesn’t prevent things from existing. —Jean-Martin Charcot

The Judge does not make the law.  It is people that make the law.   Therefore if a law is unjust, and if the Judge judges according to the law, that is justice, even if it is not just.                                                        —Alan Paton, Cry, the Beloved Country (1948)

This section is dedicated to two groups, in particular: those, like Andy Murray, who seem to believe that following the rules is the (only or best) solution to the problems Troicki’s case presented; and those who haven’t to this point understood why some think the outcome of the CAS decision was unjust.

If you’re someone who has made categorical statements along the lines of “Read and respect the rules and everything is very simple,” “He should have taken the test,” “A player would only refuse to be tested if there was something to hide,” or “No excuses,” this section’s for you.

Starting from Scratch: The Return of Viktor Troicki

What follows are two interviews in one.  The first half contains excerpts from a conversation I had with Viktor Troicki at the 2012 Cincinnati Masters.  The second half is a recent interview conducted by Nebojša Mandrapa, the tennis reporter for Serbian newspaper Večernje Novosti, who has kindly permitted me to post a translation. Troicki, considered a hero of Serbian tennis ever since he scored the clinching point in Serbia’s Davis Cup victory over France in 2010, was suspended from professional activity last July.  (Those needing a refresher on his case, which led to his being sanctioned for violating the ITF’s anti-doping rules, can read my overview and other players’ reactions here.)  He’ll return to action in just over a week, in all likelihood playing on the Gstaad clay for the first time in his career.

Teammates hold Viktor Troicki aloft to be cheered by Belgrade fans after he delivers the decisive rubber against France. © Paul Zimmer

As fans of men’s tennis will recall, Troicki rode the wave of his team’s triumph all the way to a career-high ATP ranking of #12 in June 2011.  Although he broke into the top 100 as a 22-year-old in 2008, and finished both 2009 and ‘10 within the top 30, it wasn’t until his first singles title in October 2010 and the Davis Cup win six weeks later that Troicki’s career really took off.  In fact, many in Serbian tennis circles were surprised at just how fast and how high he rose, given that he had long played second fiddle to not only Novak Djoković but also Janko Tipsarević, who was a more talented junior player.  Although Troicki’s time among the men’s tennis elite—thirty-four weeks in the top 20—was relatively brief compared to the elder Tipsy’s, it was Viktor who made more efficient progress up the ranks as a young pro and he who earned an individual title first.

1. “I just hope it happens again.”

© Getty Images Viktor Troicki dismissed Lleyton Hewitt for the loss of two games.

When we sat down in what is technically Mason, Ohio, Troicki was feeling good after demolishing former #1 Lleyton Hewitt in straight sets.  Knocking off top players wasn’t a new experience for Viktor (for instance, he beat Andy Roddick in the Washington quarterfinals back in 2008, when the American was #9), but he’d been having a difficult year.  Though his recent struggles became our focus fairly quickly (even before I’d asked about them), we began by looking back to 2010.

AM: Can you compare winning the Davis Cup with winning your first ATP title about a month earlier?  Together, they mark a key turning point in your career.  (Troicki was ranked #54 before a semifinal run in Tokyo, #43 before the Kremlin Cup in mid-October, and #30 at the end of the regular season.)  So, do you think of them together, as a sort of unit, or separately?

VT: Yes, definitely different things—totally different things.  It also felt different.  Of course, my first title gave me a lot of confidence.  I played great that week in Moscow, beat some big names, and I think I played my best tennis at the end of that year.

Then, the Davis Cup finals came and, for sure, knowing that I had a title already and that I was playing very well, I was more confident than usual.  I think that’s why I played very well in Davis Cup also.  Winning Davis Cup was the biggest moment of my life—it was just a great experience.  It felt unbelievable on the court, winning that last [rubber].  I just hope it happens again.*  I mean, it’s the moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life—just an unbelievable experience.

AM: How was the first half of 2011 different from the previous few years—coming off of Davis Cup and rising to your career-high?  (One thing that struck me here is how quickly Vik turned to the second half of the year—that is, to negative stuff.  Even at the outset of his answer, it sounds like he’s brought down by what he knows is coming.)

VT: Well, I started 2011 great, continuing to play very well.  I came to #12 in the world playing really good tennis.  And then I had some matches where I. . . (sigh) had the chance to win, where I was very close to winning, for example against Murray at the French—I had a chance to go to the quarters, I was serving for it—and also in Montreal against Monfils, I had match points which I didn’t use.

So, all these. . . those two matches, like, [set] me back.  I lost a bit of confidence and then I started to play less [well] than I was playing before; my ranking was dropping and I was losing some matches that I shouldn’t lose and I was unhappy. . .  I would say 2011 was a year with ups and downs.  Luckily, I hope, that’s over and I think I’m going to rise again in the rankings and get back to the top 20 and then, hopefully, go for the top 10.

AM: You talked about the effect of those two losses on your confidence, but is there anything else you want to add about why it’s been hard to maintain a high level consistently.  I mean. . . people are going to say that you’re in a slump, right?  But I don’t know if you think of it that way or not.  When I look at your playing activity, there are actually only a few losses that jump out at me as unexpected—like Bucharest.  Something like losses to Rosol no longer look weird after what he did at Wimbledon.

VT: It happens to every athlete—it happens that he has good days and bad days.  (Sigh.)  We all have ups and downs.  I guess it’s normal for every tennis player also.  I mean, the thing is to get out of it as quickly as you can, try not to think about it, and try to improve from those things—what you did wrong.  So, I hope I’ve learned some things from those matches.  I work hard every day to improve my game, so I hope these things won’t happen again.

AM: How much do you work on mental aspects of the game—not so much strategies or tactics, but things like positive thinking?

VT: Yeah, I had a person this year, during the tournaments in Europe, who I was talking to.  We were doing some sessions—mental sessions, psychological treatments.  He helped me a lot, I think.  We did a good job and I still use those things.

AM: Did you guys actually identify, say, types of negative thinking?

VT: We talked about not just tennis, but how to make life a nice place—to enjoy life, to be happy on the court.  Sometimes when I was on the court and I was losing, I was really not happy.  When it was not going my way, I was pretty unhappy—those were the things that were maybe not helping me.  So, we tried to improve that and to start thinking positive on the court, even if it’s not going well.  Hopefully, I’ll still improve on that point.

Serbian players celebrate winning the 2012 World Team Cup in Dusseldorf. Troicki beat Dodig, Tursunov, F. Mayer, & Stepanek en route to the title. © Kevin Kurek/ AFP/Getty Images

AM: What do you consider your best or most satisfying performance of the year?  Dusseldorf strikes me, since it was several wins in a row. . .

VT: Well, I played Wimbledon fourth round, which was my best Wimbledon so far.  I reached the fourth round (lost to Novak), which was a good result for me.  Beating Juan Monaco, I also played a good match there.  Maybe [today] was the best win, against Hewitt: to beat him 6-2, 6-0 was pretty surprising, even for me, and I think I played very well.  But my best tournament, I would say, was Wimbledon.

AM: You won a couple five-set matches in a row—arguably, it’s especially important to get through those.

VT: Definitely, definitely.  Actually, I made a record in Grand Slams for most consecutive five-setters.  So, it’s definitely a good thing when you’re winning those important matches, when it’s really tight—it means a lot and gets your confidence back.

♠♣♥♦

* I just hope it happens again.”  This line is especially poignant in light of the fact that a requisite part of “it”—Serbia making another Davis Cup final—did happen again (in 2013), only not for Viktor.  Due to his suspension, he was able neither to play nor even to cheer on his teammates from inside the Belgrade Arena.  Watching the final two rounds on tv from home was, understandably, an emotional experience for Troicki: “When Janko dedicated the [semifinal] tie to me and Novak took the microphone and got the stadium to shout ‘Viktor,’ I had a breakdown and started crying like never before in my life.”

It wasn’t only Troicki who suffered through those ties, however.  Due to his and the injured Tipsarević’s absences, Team Serbia was significantly undermanned when they faced Czech Republic in the final.

2. Making Up for Lost Time

Speaking with Mandrapa in Belgrade last week, Troicki was both bursting with motivation to return to the top ranks of the ATP and anticipating mixed emotions when he steps on court at his comeback tournament.

Troicki practices with Nikola Milojević in Belgrade. © N. Skenderija

Q: What will you be feeling when you return to action?

VT: From the wish to show that they were wrong to suspend me, to the hope of proving to myself that I can do even better than before— above all, a desire to make up for lost time… All of these emotions and much more will be present. To be honest, I don’t know myself how it’ll be on court in the beginning, until I get used to it.  At the same time, all my points will be gone by July 21 and I’ll be starting from scratch, completely from scratch. However, I often remember a very good saying, “Once a doctor, always a doctor.”  That’s why I haven’t given up on tennis: because it’s who I am.

Q: This period, from July 2013 until today, did it feel like an eternity?

VT: Too long, I’d say.  It was hard for me without tournaments, very hard.  But, I have to admit, some moments were nice and interesting, too.  I had time for everything.  Now, I’m completely recovered mentally, and not so nervous and burdened with all of this like at the beginning.  When [the CAS tribunal] made their decision to uphold my suspension, it was a huge shock.  But since then, I thought about it all in peace—about the future, not so much about everything that happened.

  “If you run into the [Doping Control Officer from last year] at a tournament, what would you say to her?”

“It’s better that you don’t know.  They [presumably, the ATP] will see that this doesn’t happen; but the woman continued to do her job, even though she’s a total amateur (not to say something harsher).  I think it’s too bad that she continued to work without any consequences, even though the [CAS] judgment stated that she also bears some blame, because of poor instructions and irresponsibility.  I don’t know what would happen—I just hope that I’ll never meet her again in my life.”

Q: Have you had any psychological help to overcome all these difficulties?

VT: I tried, but I didn’t like it too much.  I realized that it was all up to me.  If I sort out the dice in my head, then that’s that—and I don’t need someone else’s help.  If I manage to straighten myself out, that’s enough.

Q: You mentioned that the year was, at times, interesting.  What did you have in mind?

VT: I went skiing four times last winter—more days skiing than ever before in my life.  I wanted to catch up on things I love and haven’t had much chance to do.  Often, I’d play football with the guys—we had an indoor league.  And I went on a couple of trips with Nole, including my first time in South America, which was interesting.  Then, when I started to train, I also accompanied Djoković to a few tournaments he played, so I’ve practiced with him a lot.

Q: Was it difficult for you to find sparring partners, players with whom to practice?

April: Viktor trains with Dutzee & Nole in Monte Carlo.

A: Exactly; that’s exactly right.  But Novak helped me there, too.  Mostly, I worked with him—in Monte Carlo, or during tournaments in Dubai and Miami.  I also sparred with our younger players: Lajović, Krajinović, Milojević in Belgrade.

Q: What were you working on, looking to improve?

VT: For the last four months, I’ve really practiced a lot.  Luckily, both members of my team—coach [Jack] Reader and [fitness trainer/ physiotherapist Miloš] Jelisavčić—are still with me.  In some areas, I feel progress, but I’m lacking competitive play: points and other match situations. That’ll come eventually, after a couple of tournaments.  I can’t claim that it’ll all be in place by the first tournament (at that point, everything will probably still be totally strange), but I hope it’ll be sorted out as soon as possible.

Q: Due to the loss of ranking points, you won’t have direct entry to the biggest tournaments at first?

VT: Some tournament organizers have kindly offered me a wild card.  I won’t play at the major events.  Right now, we’re waiting for confirmation from Gstaad, and I’ll definitely participate in the Italian Challengers, four or five tournaments which coincide with the US hard-court season. Novak will try to help me with securing wild cards for the Asian swing.  If he succeeds, that would be great.

Q: Serbia’s Davis Cup team heads to India in mid-September for a World Group playoff.  Will it be with or without you?

VT: I honestly don’t know what to say.  It doesn’t fit into my schedule at all.  At that point in the season, I plan to play on clay, and I don’t feel like going to India.  I’d be losing two weeks, not just one; I can’t play on the main tour if I don’t get wild cards and, just then, I’m planning to play some bigger tournaments.  I hope the younger players will help and that they’ll be able to win the tie.  We’ll see who’ll even be in a position to play.  Maybe Tipsarević will manage to recover by then, but I think we’re the favorites no matter who plays.

In a New Year’s statement, however, Viktor had a slightly different perspective on whether a return to the tour or the opportunity to rejoin the Davis Cup team is more important to his comeback.

  “Both things go hand in hand.  If I’m able to win on the ATP tour level, then I’ll be a help to our team.  Of course, coming back and playing Davis Cup in front of my home crowd will mean the real end of this chapter.  Then I’ll be able to say that it’s behind me.”

Q: Are you fulfilled on a personal level—because that can have an impact on your results?

Wedding guests arrive in Sveti Stefan: Viktor Troicki & Sofija Milošević.                   © A. Ljumović

VT: Everything’s in the best possible order.  My mother and father have been the biggest support my whole life.  They always believed in me.  There were also a few other people, like Neša Trifunović, who’ve been a lot of help.  From them, I got valuable advice.  They told me that a year is short period in life and that it’ll pass—that I have to survive mentally, to be even stronger and even better.  I appreciate that.  My parents are very excited that I’m returning to the court, although I won’t see them as much as in the past year.

Q: Do you believe you can do better than the #12 spot you once occupied?

VT: I don’t know, but I’ll try to prove I can.  We’ll see how well I’ll succeed in that.  Certainly, I’ll give my best—more than I gave before.  My goal is to fight to the last point, and to get into the top 100 by the end of 2014.  It won’t be easy; but if I start well, I think I have a chance.  In the end, it’s all up to me.

First: Dušan Lajović on his Breakthrough Season

By the time I arrived in Miami, Dušan Lajović was already well practiced at waiting. Although he’d lost in the final round of qualifying two days earlier, he was hanging around Crandon Park, next in line to get into the main draw of the Sony Open as a “Lucky Loser.” Spending all day on site, waiting for a message that might not come, Lajović had time to talk at length about recent developments in his life on the ATP tour. (An edited Serbian version of this interview was published by B92.)

When we met in a small room under the stadium court, Lajović was, at #89, the de facto Serbian men’s number two player due to the absence of both Janko Tipsarević and Viktor Troicki from competition. Just that week, he’d had dinner in a local Chinese restaurant with Troicki, then training in Miami, and posted his Davis Cup teammate’s fortune on Twitter.

Dutzee tweetBut it is Tipsarević whom he credits with being among the biggest influences on his young career: not only does Lajović share Janko’s manager (Dirk Hordorff) and clothing sponsor (Fila) but the older player also serves as a mentor, providing court-side advice and general insight about existence as a professional tennis player. Though Tipsarević was obviously disappointed not to be able to compete in the Davis Cup finals, he is likely proud of the way his protégé has performed, both in his November debut at the Belgrade Arena and during the first months of the new year. It was this stretch of time that “Dutzee” and I discussed in most detail.

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AM: This has been a season of “firsts” for you: qualifying for your first main draw of a major, first win at a Slam, first entry in the top 100, first time playing as Serbia’s #1 in Davis Cup, first main draw at a Masters series event, maybe even the first opportunity to travel with a physiotherapist (Stefan Duell, whose services he also shares with Janko). Out of all these firsts, what stands out to you—which achievement means the most?

DL: I would say that qualifying for a Slam was the biggest for me, even though more came after that, since I won a round in the main draw. Last year, I was in the final round of qualifications in Paris [at Roland Garros] and I lost pretty badly. Qualifying in Australia was tough for me because there’s a lot of wind there and I’m not really used to playing in those conditions. But I was mentally strong in the qualies, even though I lost in qualies of the previous tournament (in Chennai) and was a little bit down. So, qualifying at the Australian Open took some of the pressure off; after that, I kind of relaxed and started playing much better. Then, the results kept coming: I also qualified in Rio and won a round, so I feel like I’m ready for the next level.

Lajović at 2013 Roland Garros (photo by Hector for Tennis Alternative).

Roland Garros 2013 (photo by Hector for Tennis Alternative)

AM: When you think about the Australian Open, do you see that as the turning point, after which things changed, or was your success there actually proof that things had already changed?

DL: I think it’s all connected. In Australia, I also had a good draw—a wildcard in the first round [Lucas Pouille]. But that’s a lot of pressure, too, because you have to win that match. If you lose, you’re in a tough situation, even though you qualified, because you lost to a much younger guy who’s up & coming but not that experienced. So, I still needed to win that match. That win also showed me that I’m ready. A year ago, I might have lost it, but now I feel like everything is falling into place.

AM: What was more difficult: the transition from juniors to the pros or the last few years, since you entered the top 200?

DL: In juniors, during the early ITF stage, I actually wasn’t very good—nor did I play many tournaments. So, when I started playing seniors, every point I earned was a really big deal and I’d feel like, “Ok, this is going really well.”

This feeling lasted through his nineteenth birthday. By 2010, however, Lajović was having doubts. Even though he made the finals of one Futures tournament in June and won the title at another in August (results which helped him move up a hundred spots in the ATP rankings to 415), he considered going to the US for college or perhaps even quitting tennis altogether. It was the Davis Cup finals in December of that year which helped change his mind.

DL: I was there with the guys, just to experience the atmosphere and everything. And the next year, I broke into the top 200—from 430 at the beginning of 2011 to 190 by the end of the season. So, this was the biggest jump in my career.

At that point, needing a coach with the flexibility to travel with him more regularly, he split from Nemanja Lalić, who’d been guiding him for nearly seven years. Still, he says, “When I’m home in Belgrade, I always call Nemanja and we practice together. We’re really close. I think this was very important for my career, that he was not just my coach but also my friend.”

AM: So, which was harder: the period from 18 to 21 or between then and now, when you’ve reached the top 100?

DL: I think getting to the top 100 was much harder, because there’s this mental pressure that you want to break in. I was in a position to do so last summer, when I was around #115—I had some chances while playing in two different tournaments. There was a lot of pressure because I was also supposed to be earning points to get direct entrance into the US Open, so I kind of put the burden on my back and it broke. I lost in the second round at two tournaments in which I could have gone much further and slipped in the rankings.

Since that point, I told myself not to think about breaking in to the top 100—just think about becoming a better player. Once you do this, the top 100 will eventually come. When you stop thinking about whether you’re #101 or 90, I think you can improve more easily…. We’re human, so we can’t completely block these kinds of thoughts—they’re always there. But you have to try to keep it in the back of your head and put the priority on your game.

AM: Even before the Australian Open, playing your first live rubber in the Davis Cup final was a sort of “coming out” party. Although people in Serbia knew you, that was when fans and media in the rest of the tennis world were introduced to you. What are the biggest differences you’ve noticed in this new stage of your career?

Lajović vs Stepanek (photo by Srdjan Stevanović)

Lajović vs Stepanek (photo by Srdjan Stevanović)

DL: I really felt this during Davis Cup finals. Some people would say I was thrown to the sharks, but it was a really great experience. Though I was saying this at the time, I really didn’t know what it would mean to me until more recently. My match with Stepanek is an example: even though I was losing badly, I was still fighting for every point. And this is something important that helped me play well this season—realizing that you have to stay humble until the end of the match. Even if you’re leading in a set by a break, when you get up from the bench [after a changeover], you can’t let yourself relax.

Now, even when I have a break, I run to the baseline to get another one—I think maintaining this high level of energy is one of the things that’s kept me going this season. If your opponent suddenly starts playing better, it’s not necessarily because you did anything wrong; so, you have to stay positive. In a couple of losses I’ve had this year, I think that was a big part of the problem—that I wasn’t pushing it to the limit. But if I can keep the positive energy up, I think it’ll be even better for my season and my career.

AM: You mentioned getting thrown to the sharks in Davis Cup. In terms of sharks, you’ve faced a number of them lately, starting with Tomas Berdych. Watching a match of yours in Brazil, I was thinking that you might need to get a little more mean. You seem like a nice guy and you’re very calm and level-headed on court, so there’s no need to get crazy. But, sometimes, maybe more of a killer instinct would help?

DL: Yeah, that’s true. I would say that killer instinct is coming a bit more this season. It all has to do with personality, I think. Maybe I was a little bit insecure before, but now I try to be more confident and to know what I’m worth. While it’s important not to be arrogant on the court, you have to be a fighter. Fair play is for me the number one thing during the match, but you also need to be a little bit “rude” on the court, if I can say it that way. Maybe that was a piece that I was missing, this shark instinct, and it’s very important. But I feel like it’s coming—that I’m going in the right direction.

AM: Have there been any perks to being in the top 100?

DL: Let’s face it, there aren’t many better jobs in the world than living on the tour. You get to travel a lot—ok, from one side that’s a good thing; from the other, you’re away from home for more than thirty weeks a year. But, I think that tennis players have a pretty nice life once they’re in the top 100 or top 50.

When you’re playing Challengers, you can have tournaments in some pretty small places and you need to change several planes [to get there]. When you play tour events, they’re always in big cities, so you can fly direct or maybe one connection. You also know for sure that you will have a big hotel. I’ve played a Challenger in Uzbekistan, so you can imagine what that’s like—in Qarshi, near the border of Afghanistan. There, the hotel was really bad, and the breakfast… You can never know what kind of food you’re going to get, so you’ve got to be careful.  When you’re at a tour event, food is provided on site or there are good restaurants in the city.

From that side, it’s much better to play these events. And all the best players are here and you have the chance to compete against them, which is what I always dreamed of. So, I would say that as soon as I don’t have to play Challenger events, I will try not to play them, to just keep playing here—even if it means playing a bit more in qualies when I don’t get in [directly]. But now I have a good ranking, so I think this will also help me to gain more experience on the tour.

AM: Other than being able to play more highly-ranked players, and some big names, is there any difference in how people treat you—in the locker room or elsewhere?

DL: Yeah, they’re getting to know me, and everybody says “hi.” Once you get there, eventually everybody will know you. For me, it doesn’t matter if somebody in the top ten knows you and he’s your friend or if somebody’s top 500. If he’s a good person, it’s the same—he’s your friend.

AM: How about in terms of media and fan attention? How much about yourself are you interested in sharing, beyond aspects of your game?

DL: I realize that the better you get, the more people will know you and they’ll want to know more. I think it’s a good thing nowadays, with Twitter and everything. On Twitter, I’m not very active, but I try to keep my fans (as much as I have them) posted about some different things that I like.

“Little fuzzy koala”

“Little fuzzy koala”

Because I don’t think that I would just put, “Yesterday, I lost; tomorrow I play at this time…” I feel like they can find all this kind of information online, and they want to know something that’s behind the curtain, something that they could not see on tv or whatever. I still haven’t had any interviews where I get asked something personal—there are always one or two questions about what I do in my free time or something like this… which you can basically answer automatically. I didn’t have any goofy questions and I haven’t been in the tabloids*; somebody maybe posted my tweets a couple of times in the newspaper, but that’s it. So, I don’t feel any different yet.

[*Strictly speaking, this isn’t accurate.  Tennis players in Serbia are frequent tabloid fodder and Lajović is no exception (here he is looking dapper during a night out with teammate Ilija Bozoljac, for example).  But it’s good to know that Dutzee doesn’t spend his free time Googling himself or reading the gossip pages.]

AM: Speaking of Twitter, you usually keep it pretty light: updates about your matches, some pictures, this and that. But earlier this year, you re-tweeted an article Sergiy Stakhovsky posted—a story about British player calling it quits. Why did it seem worth sharing?

DL: I played once against Jamie Baker. I didn’t know him as a person; I saw him at tournaments, but personally we never connected. He was just there and I didn’t know what was on the other side. So, when I read the article… I don’t want to say some bad words now, but I was like, “Oh my god.” I mean, I thought, “Shit, this is bad,” you know? A tough life. This person was there and I never knew anything about it. Maybe he didn’t share with anybody, or maybe some people knew but they weren’t speaking about it. When you read it from somebody else and see how tough it is, I’m thinking, “Yeah, I’ve been through many things like this”—apart from the injuries he had.

AM: When you described playing Challengers, I thought maybe that’s why the Jamie Baker story struck you. I don’t know if this saying exists in Serbian: “There but for the grace of God go I.” Was it that sort of feeling, that it could be you? We can both point to talented guys in the top two or three hundred—on some level, there’s no reason they shouldn’t be ranked higher; on another level, we could identify the reasons, though it’s not necessarily about quality.

DL: All the guys who are [at the top] are there because they want it more than the other guys—this is my thinking. Even if you do all the things properly, there are probably some things you should do differently to get up there. Maybe you’re practicing, going to sleep, doing everything right, and at some point you’re thinking “Why am I still number 150 and not 80? I’m doing everything that all the guys who are 50 or 80 are.” But maybe you need to change something that you haven’t even thought of to get there.

I also think that your thoughts are very important in terms of going in the right direction. Because even if you do everything right, if you look at this guy and think, “Why is he there and not me?”—you should not pity yourself. It may be going badly now; but at some point, if you’re doing everything right, it will come. And if your maximum is to be at 120, then you’ve got to face it and say, “I gave it everything that I could, I’m 120, and I couldn’t do more.” But if you don’t give your maximum, you don’t know how far you can go. So, if my maximum is 89, ok, it’s 89; but when I finish my career, I will know I gave everything to get there. Right now, I can’t remember the whole article about Jamie. But apart from things you can’t control, like injury or illness, it’s all about yourself—how much you want it and how much you give to get there.

 in Zagreb

Lajović on the stretch (© PBZ Zagreb Indoors)

AM: Isn’t it the case, though, that unless you get to a certain point in the rankings, the financial side of the sport is pretty difficult? Where would you put that cut-off—is it where you are now? For instance, when you won that round at the Australian Open, you got the biggest paycheck of your career. How much does that help?

DL: Well, it also makes a difference in terms of not having to think about the financial situation when you travel. I would say that all the players from Serbia didn’t have a good financial status to compete regularly, in every tournament, or to travel when they were starting. So, some of them were borrowing money, and some found sponsors, but nobody had his own money to do so. This, from one side, was a good thing for us and why, as people always ask us, we’re so hungry to succeed.

But from the other side, when I was playing Futures or Challengers, there were times when I didn’t know if I could go to this or that tournament. I’m lucky to have parents who provided for me, even when they didn’t have anything—they always found a solution. I always knew the pressure, but I knew they did this because they believed in me and wanted to see me do something I like. From this point of view, I could never give up and say, “Ok, it’s hard for you guys and it’s hard for me, so now we’re quitting.” Because I know how much I gave of myself and how much they gave of themselves for me to keep playing tennis.

AM: Did you get much financial support from the Serbian tennis federation?

DL: In the years when I was young, it was difficult. The situation in our country was not good, so [the federation] didn’t have money or a system to help players. Over the years, it’s gotten better—it can always be much better. At the point when it was most important, I would say that I didn’t have the help, the resources I needed. But I wasn’t always the best player in my country, so from that side I can also realize that they didn’t see my potential. When you look at other countries, like Spain, they have like fifty guys that they sponsor. But when you’re from Serbia, you’ve got to do 90% on your own.

AM: Until what stage was your family your main support?

DL: I would say until I was top 200, but maybe even a year ago. But it all depends. I mean, I still live with my parents because I’m barely home—I travel for two months, then go home for five days. If you’re top 200, you can be top 200 [by playing] Challengers and still not earn anything, just be on the edge of covering costs. Or, you can be top 200 with maybe a few ATPs, and then you have more money than a guy who’s the same rank as you.

AM: When you won a match at the Australian Open, other than its relaxing you a bit about finances and making it possible for you to hire Stefan, did you do anything for yourself as a reward or indulgence?

DL: Not really. I mean, I don’t go shopping very often; but when I do, I’m just searching for one thing that I really need. Because I have a phone, I have a car, I have this and that… I don’t need anything special. Maybe at one point, I’ll start buying some crazy things.

AM: I don’t think that’s necessary—I just wondered if you marked the occasion.

DL: No, I didn’t. For me, the best thing is to be with people I love. Then maybe go for a nice dinner—I really enjoy good food. But I was just there with my coach; I don’t think we did anything.

I also feel like this is something I should have done earlier—winning a round [at a major]. That’s why, even though it’s big for me, I want to feel like it’s normal because I really want to do greater things. So, if I buy an expensive watch for myself when I win one round, what will I do if I win a Slam?

Doubles: Serbia vs Switzerland (photo by Srdjan Stevanović)

Doubles: Serbia vs Switzerland (photo by Srdjan Stevanović)

AM: A question about the first round of Davis Cup: if Zimonjić & Krajinović had won the doubles rubber, you would have had to play Roger Federer instead of Michael Lammer. Would you have liked to play Federer in that situation, or were you happy to get the win?

DL: No, no, I really wanted to… I think this is also a big difference from a couple months ago. When I played in the finals, I wanted to give my best; but, on some level, I think I didn’t play to beat this guy. When I played against Stanislas, I went on the court to really try to beat him, even though he just won the Australian Open.

This is also something that has improved a lot this season: that it doesn’t matter who you play, you’ve got to go on court and expect to win. Otherwise, don’t go on the court. I think that if you have this [attitude] every match, doesn’t matter against which player, then you will keep improving. Maybe I just needed this kind of experience against top-10 players to see that I need to go on court and try to beat these guys as well, not to have [too much] respect for them.

Then again, I had to play the other guy on Sunday—and we didn’t want to lose. Even though we lost [the tie against Switzerland] 3-0, I really wanted to win. [Lammer] also wanted to win and he played well—better than his ranking. So, I was happy to win this match, even though it didn’t mean anything; but it would have been much better to play Federer in a live rubber.

AM: At the beginning, we talked about some of the “firsts” you’ve recently achieved. What’s the next “first”—the next big step you’re going to take?

DL: I wouldn’t mind for it to be an ATP title. Why not? I have Futures titles, Challenger titles, so now I need an ATP title.

*******

Two days after our conversation, Lajović got called in to replace an injured Tommy Haas, who’d received a “bye” into the second round. If his more experienced opponent, Yen-Hsun Lu, felt any relief not to be facing Haas (against whom he has an 0-2 record), that feeling wouldn’t have lasted long: the Serb got an early break and went on to take the first set 6-1. Another break early in the second proved more difficult for Dutzee to hang on to and Lu sent the match into a deciding set by winning the tiebreak.

I suspected I wasn’t the only one on Court 7 wondering whether—or to what extent— Lajović’s chances of a victory diminished when he wasn’t able to wrap up the match in two sets. As if giving voice to my doubt, a Serbian woman in the crowd urged “Dule,” as he is also known, not to rush during his first service game. His bark in reply seemed cause for concern. (As I later learned, however, this invested elder was Dušan’s mother, and his tone with her likely borne more of familiarity than frustration.) A break in the sixth game proved decisive. Despite a wobble of nerves after the umpire called for a replay of what Lajović thought was a winning point, he took the match 6-1, 6-7(3), 6-3.

Lajović serves during his win over Lu.

Lajović serves during his win over Lu.

After he’d had a chance to recover from his three-setter against Lu, Lajović shared some thoughts about his main-draw showing. (You can read his comments in Serbian on B92.)

AM: How does it feel to be a Lucky Loser?

DL: Pretty lucky. I got the chance to play and I used it the best I could. If somebody had asked me five days ago how I’m doing, I had a totally different feeling when I lost. So, now I’m pretty happy and I appreciate that I got in… And that I played a good match last night—it’s a really good thing for me.

AM: Was it all awkward that the guy you were drawn against is someone with whom you share a physio?

DL: Yeah, we did the preseason together a couple of times and we’ve practiced many times. But, when you’re in these tournaments, you can always play against anybody; so, you’re prepared for the possibility. Then again, Stefan couldn’t watch—he was watching from the locker room, actually.

AM: You mean he couldn’t watch in the stands because he can’t cheer?

DL: It’s better if he doesn’t watch on the court—it’s his rule and we respect it. But it was ok, nothing too weird. I’ve played a few times against some people who are friends in my personal life, so it’s kind of something you have to get used to.

Fellow players Filip Krajinović & Kiki Mladenović showed up to support Lajović.

Fellow players Filip Krajinović & Kiki Mladenović showed up to support Lajović.

AM: Even though you didn’t have your coach or physio out there, you did have a nice little cheering section, including your mother. What’s it like when you have friends or family watching?

DL: It’s always good—I love when my family’s there. Whenever they have the chance, they come to watch me and it’s the best support I could have. So, I’m really enjoying the time and that my mother’s here.

AM: The first set went perfectly according to plan, but when the second got more complicated, there was a question about how that might affect you going forward. Were you frustrated after you lost the early break advantage?

DL: I think that the problem was that I was feeling little tired in the second set since I’ve been here all day for the last four days. I had to be here from before the first match until the last match because there was always a chance to get in. This is really tiring when you have to stay all day in the club, plus practice. So, even before the match, I wasn’t really fresh.

After I won this second-set break, I felt so tired all of a sudden. Probably I was a little bit empty, emotionally, from winning the break—and I couldn’t keep up the energy. After I lost the break, I thought, “If we go into a third [set], it will be even harder for me, and I should try to finish in two.” But this wasn’t going. So, when I lost the second set, I said, “Ok, now you know there is only one set left and you’ve got to push as much as you can.” In the end, I did it, though I was maybe even cramping in the third set a little bit.

AM: In terms of the disappointment of losing the second-set tiebreak, and heading into a third set, would you say your concerns were more physical or mental?

DL: Both—equally both. The good thing is that I was serving well in the third set. Because if we had played longer rallies, it would be even harder and I don’t know if the ending would be the same.

AM: I know fitness can be an issue with some of the younger guys—Raonić and Dimitrov, for example—especially at majors, since you aren’t as accustomed to playing longer matches. Is stamina something you’re working on?

DL: Well, I haven’t played many best-of-five; but with those I did, I didn’t have physical problems. I feel I’m pretty fit to compete on this level, though I don’t know how I’d feel when it gets to the point of playing four or five best-of-five matches in a row. But I feel I could handle it physically, because I always do a good, tough preseason in Kenya, where it’s really hot and we practice more than five hours a day. Ok, when you play a match it’s different—you get tired more because emotions are working. But I think I can handle it physically.

AM: Since your coach (Jan Velthuis) isn’t here, what do you do for match preparation?

DL: I speak with my coach over the phone—it’s not a problem. He advises me before the match and gives me tactics. We always talk after every match, so it doesn’t feel like he’s away.

AM: When you’re going into a match like tomorrow’s, do you ever target a very specific thing you’re going to work on, or is it more general?

DL: For me, it’s better when I think more generally. Because I have my own game and I always try to focus on that, and then just do things that I need and which may not be good for my opponent. When I focus on his game, I’m not doing my game as good as I should and everything breaks down.

AM: Looking forward to the match against Dolgopolov, what can you expect?

DL: Expect the unexpected, I would say. He is playing really well the last couple of weeks—doesn’t matter on hard court or on clay. He beat Rafa last week, so he’s in good shape with a lot of confidence. For me, it’ll be a big challenge to play him, first of all. I hope that I can just keep my game on a high level… For sure, I’m going to go out on the court and try to beat him, but this will be tough, especially because he’s playing so well. The only thing for me is to keep my game like I did last night, and in the previous weeks, and to manage to stay focused during the whole match. Then, I think I have a chance.

*******

Post-script: the unexpected took several forms in the third-round match between Dutzee and Dolgopolov. Although there were a number of welcome developments, such as the Serb’s level of play in the first and third sets, the match ended on several less pleasant notes, not least of which was a controversial call in the final set tiebreak.

Lajović handled the set-back in stride and had reason, despite a defeat seemingly snatched from the jaws of victory, to be pleased with his week. The Monday after Miami, he achieved a new career high of #78. We may see more firsts from him when he returns to his favorite surface: European clay.

Davis Cup Diaries

The Davis Cup semifinal between Serbia and Argentina in September 2011 was the first sporting event I attended with credentials allowing behind-the-scenes access.  Knowing Serbia as I do, I suspected their tennis federation’s communications representative wouldn’t care that I wasn’t a journalist but an academic visiting to do research for a project conceived just over a month before.  At the time, I thought it was a one-off: a fun way to pass the time during a short stint between teaching jobs.  Little did I know that this was the beginning of an adventure lasting two years (and counting) and taking me to tournaments across the US and in three other countries.

Most people reading this won’t need a reminder of the kind of 2011 Novak Djoković was having.  (If you’d like to refresh your memory, Brian Phillips’ pieces about the final two matches of the Serb’s US Open run or Jon Wertheim’s nomination of him for SI’s Sportsman of the Year are good ways to do so.)  He returned home, just days after winning his third Slam of the season, with an almost unthinkable 64-2 record.  Though much has been written about his year, two things that sometimes get overlooked in reviews of his accomplishments are the fact that Novak wasn’t in great shape when he arrived in Belgrade and would be in even worse condition by the end of the Davis Cup weekend.  During the US Open final against Nadal, he received treatment on his back and was clearly hobbled in the fourth set, serving at well below his average speeds.  Add to this the mental fatigue of a long year and the physical exhaustion of jet lag (never mind the whirlwind media tour that preceded his flight from New York), and it makes sense that Djoković didn’t play in the first singles match of the tie.

But with his team down 1-2 entering the third day of competition, Nole opted to enter the fray.  It was a no-win situation.  On the one hand, he had to play—both because his team, the defending champions, would almost certainly lose otherwise and because his home fans expected it.  On the other hand, he couldn’t really play—he simply wasn’t physically fit enough for a five-set match against one of the best players in the world.  Despite this, he put up a brave fight in the first set, eventually losing to Juan Martin del Potro in a tiebreaker.  While it was obvious to anyone watching closely that he wasn’t 100%, no one expected him to fall to the ground three games into the second set.  Given that the DJ opted to play Goran Bregović’s rousing “Kalašnjikov” at that moment, I’m confident I wasn’t the only one in the Belgrade Arena who had no idea what had happened—perhaps, I thought, he’d merely lost his footing and would bounce back after being evaluated.

Despite the warning signs (grimaces and awkward stretches during the first set and a medical time-out before the second), Djoković’s retirement was still somehow a surprise.  In his press conference after the final rubber, Janko Tipsarević noted that while he was disappointed by the loss, he had a “full heart” due to the risk his teammate had taken for them.  Only later, when Novak missed six weeks of play with a torn rib muscle, was the extent of his sacrifice clear.  Although he returned for the last three events of 2011, one could say that Djoković’s season really ended there, with thousands of his compatriots looking on in shock and sorrow as he was helped off court, towel over his head.

***

I’ve been back to Belgrade twice since that fall: for the Serbia Open in 2012 and the Davis Cup semifinal in 2013.  Because the project I’m working on aims to explain something about Serbia itself (not just Serbian tennis) to non-natives, I tried to capture a bit of the city’s scenery during my frequent walks downtown.  First-time visitors to Belgrade will get a history lesson by observing the architecture.  The mix of styles and degrees of dilapidation make it fairly easy to identify different periods: from Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian influences to the more decadent designs of the turn of the twentieth century, from the massive slabs of Communist-era concrete to postmodern structures of glass and steel (either from the 1980s or the first decade of the new millennium).  While many buildings of historic significance have been refurbished, plenty of evidence of both war and economic hardship remains.

Marked on the above map are the primary locations of the photos that follow: the temple of St. Sava (near my home-base in the Vračar district), the Arena (across the river in “New Belgrade”), Tennis Center Novak (venue for the now-defunct Serbia Open), Kalemegdan fortress, and Republic Square (the heart of the old city).  Since buildings, flowers, and food were my most frequent subjects, I have no choice but to share photos of some of them.  Taking far too many pictures of inanimate objects is, I think, one of the lesser-known hazards of traveling alone.  Other things I’ve learned: trying to take action shots with a pocket camera is not advisable.

In the spring of 2012, my visit coincided with the run-up to a parliamentary election, so I was able to observe that process in various ways—by watching tv, reading the local papers, and documenting political speech in public spaces, from graffiti to official campaign posters.  Soon, I’ll offer more analysis of the intersection of sports and politics in Serbia.  For now, suffice it to say that there were rumors that then-president Boris Tadić had deliberately called the election to coincide with the final day of the Serbia Open, so he could be photographed handing the trophy to the most popular person in the country.  As it turned out, Nole pulled out of his home tournament, due in large part to the death of his grandfather some ten days earlier—and Tadić lost the election (though I’m sure there’s no causal relationship between these two events).

In the fall of 2013, Serbian media covering Davis Cup were focused on three stories.  The most sensational of these concerned Viktor Troicki, who, because he is serving an eighteen-month suspension for an ITF anti-doping rule violation, was not allowed to attend the tie.  Contrary to comments from the understandably emotional Troicki and his loyal team members, there was nothing out of the ordinary—and certainly nothing personal— about this prohibition.  He was not being treated like a “terrorist” or “murderer,” per Djoković’s hyperbole, but like a suspended player.  The second story centered on members of the visiting team: three Canadians have strong ties to the former Yugoslavia, with Daniel Nestor and Miloš Raonić born in the region.  Needless to say, the locals were particularly interested in what the guests made of their one-time home, whether they speak the language, and which elements of the cuisine they enjoy.  The third story was really a question: how would Novak rebound from losing in the US Open final earlier in the week?  It was partially answered by his straight-set handling of Vasek Pospisil on the tie’s opening night.  As in 2010, the Serbs came from behind to win the semifinal, with Tipsarević once again scoring the decisive point.  But unlike 2011, the team’s top player got through the weekend unscathed.

(Most of the images marked with asterisks are the work of Srdjan Stevanović.)

Tipsy Turning Point?

Sometimes a person can surprise you even when doing something you recognize as entirely in character (at least what you know of it).  So it was in a recent conversation with Janko Tipsarević, following his third-round win over Jack Sock, when he reacted to my telling him I wasn’t going to ask him much about specific matches.  “Let’s talk about the war in Syria,” he suggested, without skipping a beat.

What does this wry response reveal about Tipsarević?  He’s quick on his figurative feet (about the literal ones, more later), aware of the world beyond tennis, and not afraid to poke a bit of fun at himself, his interlocutor, and convention—in this case, of the athlete interview.  His response to my opening question was telling, too.  Though sometimes impulsive off court or less than completely focused on it, he’s both self-aware and willing to engage in analysis with others.

Below, our discussion of his year in tennis: past, present, and future.

On his recent form:
AM: A year ago, you obviously would have been a clear favorite coming into a match against somebody like Jack Sock. But he’s progressed quite a bit and you’ve been struggling, so even though rankings-wise you were still the favorite, this feels like a significant win.  Does it to you as well?

JT: It feels significant because it’s the first time after a while that I was able to win three matches in a row.  I’m very aware of that and I’m not ashamed to say it—if I don’t say it, somebody else will.

AM: Yes, that was my next question.

JT: So, I’m really happy that I was able to beat a young player, a crowd favorite, a guy who came out with all guns blazing.  I was able to sustain him and, at the end of the day, at least in my eyes, have a very comfortable win.

AM: The Australian Open was the last time you won three in a row; you’ve gotten to some other tournaments’ fourth rounds, but you had a first-round “bye.”  What do you think has made the difference?

JT: The story goes that I got injured at the Australian Open and I came back to the tour too soon.  I wasn’t fit enough, I wasn’t healed 100 percent, and I wasn’t ready to play guys at the ATP tour level.  I had some bad draws—playing Davydenko first round, Gulbis first round, Llodra first round, whatever—and then I started losing to players that I shouldn’t have lost to.  Then, when you lose confidence, the ball starts kind of rolling, you lose matches that you shouldn’t lose, and your ranking starts to drop.

On the other hand, I was too much focused on things that I could improve, instead of keeping with the things that had gotten me to the top ten in the first place.  So, I learned that I just need to keep it simple—nothing else.

AM: We talked a year ago about how being in the top ten brought additional obligations, especially off court.  Have there been any other activities that have been distracting or may have contributed to the misplaced focus?

JT: No, not so much—and I think I proved that in 2012.  In 2011, I moved from 49 to 9, and one of my biggest goals was to play London at the end of the year.  Eventually, I ended up playing because Rafa got injured; but I proved in 2012, even with all the activities I have (which didn’t change that much this year), that I can be a top-ten player.  I was nine, then eight, the majority of the year.  So, I didn’t add any other activities in 2013 that I didn’t already have in 2012.  The biggest thing is that I came back [from injury] too early, not ready, and I got lost in this “improving my game” kind of thing, which eventually ended up in my losing to players I shouldn’t lose to.

On injury & recovery:
AM: When you retired at the Australian Open, it wasn’t entirely clear what the injury was.  If you recall, Andy Murray had blisters on his feet in the final, which affected his movement.  Linking these two incidents, what I’m wondering is if you can explain how a seemingly minor issue can have a major impact or last much longer than initially anticipated?

JT: You know, I don’t want to put other sports down, but tennis is a very, very physically demanding sport and so tough in terms of getting injured because we are using almost every single part of our bodies.  Even if the little finger on your right hand is injured…. If you have a small pain somewhere, at the end of the day, you are alone on the court.  You can’t get a cheap or fake win against anybody because you’re not a team—you are alone and you don’t have anybody to pass the ball to.

So, sometimes maybe to the fans it might look like the injury is not that severe or serious.  But, trust me, it’s doing way more damage than it looks.

AM: How long did it take until your heel felt normal—or you felt comfortable playing on it?

JT: I came back after three weeks, after getting injections, after getting cortisone and it still wasn’t right…. It was a bone bruise [caused from impact to part of the heel that doesn’t have as much fat padding].  The problem was that this is part of the body we use so much and there’s no treatment for it.  So, I was lying in bed for three weeks wanting to shoot myself from boredom.  I wanted to do something, but the only thing I could do is rest, even after the injections.  So, then, my attitude was, “Ah, it’s not that bad, it’s going to pass…”  But it was affecting every single move I made.

On Team Serbia:
AM: How much contact have you had with Viktor over the last month and what’s your sense of how he’s dealing this difficult period in his career?

JT: He’s handling it very well.  I don’t want to talk in his name, but my guess would be that he’s waiting for a final decision from the Swiss court.  The guy with whom I prepared for this US [hard-court] tour was Viktor—I practiced with him every single day for three hours, back in Belgrade, when he was still allegedly banned.  But he’s handling it pretty well so far.

It’s a big loss for us that we will not have somebody like him by our side facing Canada in Davis Cup.

AM: My impression of Viktor is that he does particularly well in the team environment.

JT: He’s such a big team player.  And in this scenario, not knowing how far Novak or I will go in the tournament, it would be so much easier for us to have him jumping in to play singles or doubles.

AM: If you were in Bogdan Obradović’s place, would you choose Lajović because he’s good on clay, Bozoljac for doubles, or think about who could best sub in for you or Novak in singles?

JT: Our captain did exactly what he should do: he invited both guys.  The good thing is that Bozoljac played pretty well in a Challenger [on clay in Como, Italy] this week—lost in quarters.  So, he invited both of the guys and will see what’s going on.  He also can’t predict how far we’ll go in this event, how we’re going to feel and handle the jet-lag, and so on.

Don’t forget that Zimonjić and Bozoljac beat the Bryans in the US…

AM: Oh, believe me, I won’t.  (Neither will Bob and Mike Bryan, by the way, who recently talked about their quarterfinal loss in Boise as one of the toughest they’ve suffered.)

JT: So, we have options.  Obviously, without Viktor on the team, they are a little bit less clear.

AM: Other than Viktor missing, what do you think is the biggest challenge the Canadians will pose the Serbian team?

JT: You know, if you’d asked me this a few months back, when Miloš wasn’t playing so great and Pospisil was ranked out of the top 100, I would have said that we’d be a clear favorite.  Now, with Pospisil being ranked around 40 and Miloš playing the tennis of his life, and us without Viktor, it kind of shifts the momentum a little bit.

But, I’m playing better and some of the best tennis I’ve ever played was in Davis Cup—I love playing in front of the full house.  I don’t think the Canadians, other than Nestor, have ever played in front of twenty thousand fans cheering for the other guys; so, this will be huge.  They’re a young team, excluding Nestor, of course.  But I don’t want to run away from the responsibility.  Even without Viktor playing, I am aware that we are favorites to win this match—obviously, having Novak on our side and playing in Belgrade, on a clay court.  I would say the chances are at least 60-40 for our side.

✈ ✈ ✈ ✈ ✈

When Tipsarević and I talked in the players’ garden outside of Arthur Ashe stadium in Flushing Meadows, I knew two things.  First, the number two Serb would be getting a stiff challenge from David Ferrer (who stopped his run at last year’s final Slam) in the next round.

Second, we’d be meeting again soon in Belgrade.  So, I resisted asking some questions until I see whether and how Janko carries his US Open momentum into Davis Cup competition.

When I visited the Belgrade Arena today, Tipsy and team appeared in good spirits.  Although he was there to practice with Lajović (known to friends and fans as “Dutzee”), Janko’s usual—that is, non-Serbian—support crew were there as well.  Dirk Hordorff, in a crisp-looking white Fila tee (and no cigarettes in sight), observed from the sidelines as Bernardo Carberol and Stefan Düll put Janko though his warm-up routine.  Dušan Vemić, lately of the #1’s entourage but currently helping coach Ivo Karlović and Andrea Petković, and Filip Krajinović were also on hand as hitting partners.  With Nole’s arrival late this afternoon, it’s safe to say that the gang’s all here.

Note: an edited Serbian version of this interview was published by B92.  I’ll post further updates as the week progresses.

On Syria & Serbia: Some Thoughts on US Interventions

There’s something—or a few things—I’ve been wanting to say for a while about US interventions abroad.  But because I was already headed to the US Open when things took a turn for the worse in Syria, I didn’t say them because it seemed odd to intermingle tweets about tennis with thoughts on foreign policy.  Since things have slowed down a bit in New York, though, I’ve collected a few thoughts.  Really, they’re questions and concerns.

If you’ve been following the debates over what the US should or shouldn’t do in Syria, you may have noticed that “Kosovo” keeps getting invoked.  Given that, it seemed worthwhile to share this handful of pieces, most of which explicitly compare the intervention in “Kosovo” with plans for similar action in Syria.  I put “Kosovo” in quotation marks to emphasize one thing only: the fact that NATO’s 1999 intervention in the Balkans is known by an inaccurate shorthand.  The target of the bombings was not strictly the (still-disputed) territory of Kosovo, but Serbia itself—then the largest republic of what remained of Yugoslavia.  While I understand the need for a convenient abbreviation for common use, this inaccuracy also irks me because I think it obscures the actual—which is to say, broader—effects of that military action.

I have several motivations for sharing these articles.  First, I’m a fan of information— seeking, considering, and disseminating it.  Second, I think it’s useful to have a historical perspective when considering political decisions, perhaps especially military ones.  Over the past two and a half decades, the US & its NATO allies have been involved in any number of conflicts across the globe.  To my mind, the degree to which the interventions in the Balkans shaped subsequent foreign policy (in Iraq, especially) has been insufficiently explored and understood by the general public.  So, particularly when trying to figure out what we could or should do in Syria, it seems useful to go back and look at other interventions that were also presented to the public as “strategic” or “limited” in scope.  Questions we might ask include: What went right?  What went wrong?  How similar are these two situations?  What are the key differences?  What can we learn from our previous actions?  What are the short- and long-term aims of the current or proposed mission?  And, perhaps most importantly, what happened in those other places we intervened after the military action was (supposedly) successfully concluded?  (Americans over a certain age remember George W. Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” celebration—and how laughable it seemed weeks, months, and years later, when our troops were still fighting in Iraq.)

Third (and related to the last question above), even though I have no idea what anyone should do about Syria, I am very, very skeptical of claims that Operation Allied Force is the “gold standard” for interventions, humanitarian or otherwise, as one of these articles states.  Or, if it is the gold standard, I think that should worry all of us.  The reason I feel this way is quite simple (and doesn’t have anything to do with, say, the legality of that operation): it’s been fourteen years since NATO intervened in the former Yugoslavia and the situation in Kosovo remains both unresolved and fairly dire, politically and economically.

Bottom line: these conflicts don’t end when we stop bombing or when headlines about them cease appearing above the fold in the New York Times.  We simply have to think long-term, no matter how painful or seemingly unbearable the short-term suffering is.  And we (meaning the US and its allies) have to learn something not only from “Kosovo” but also from Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan.  Years—even decades—later, none of these places is a model of stability, despite our best efforts.  Could they have been worse without our military involvement?  Perhaps.  Might they have been better?  We can’t know.

I’ve tried to present a range of views here, from Clinton administration insiders to academic specialists on the region, from Buzzfeed to Foreign Policy magazine.  Those who follow me on Twitter or know me personally are likely aware of both my ties to Serbia and my commitment to reasoned analysis.  While I can’t claim to be neutral, I do try to be fair.  The pieces below are presented in chronological order, with the oldest (from 2008, when Kosovo declared independence) first.  If anyone has a recommendation, I’d gratefully add more articles to the list.

“Welcome to Kosovo, the Next Failed State?” (Washington Post Op-Ed)

“NATO Strikes Over Kosovo Continue to Divide, 10 Years On” (DW)

“The Folly of Protection” (Foreign Affairs)

“Kosovo Offers United States a Roadmap for Syria” (Washington Post editorial)

“Five Inconvenient Truths about Kosovo” (TransConflict)

“Is Syria Anything Like Kosovo?” (Foreign Policy)

“Syria Is Not Kosovo, Balkan Veterans Say” (Buzzfeed)

“Wesley Clark: Syria vs. Kosovo” (USA Today)

“Kosovo is the Model For U.S. War With Syria, Forget about. . . Iraq” (PolicyMic)

“Intervention Lessons from Kosovo for Syria” (Huffington Post)

“Syria Is Not Kosovo” (New York Times Op-Ed)

Those with more time or interest in the subject might check out an essay collection such as Reflections on the Balkan Wars: Ten Years After the Break-up of Yugoslavia.

Master Class: A Conversation with Nenad Zimonjić

I had an opportunity to sit down with doubles specialist Nenad Zimonjić at the start of the Citi Open in Washington.  Returning to competitive play after a month’s rest, the Serb was in a reflective mood while discussing his rivalry with the Bryan brothers, his numerous partners in recent years, and the ITF’s recent decision to suspend his Davis Cup teammate Viktor Troicki for eighteen months.  (An edited Serbian version of the interview appeared on the B92 website.)

Nenad Zimonjić and Julien Benneteau celebrate a point during their win over Mardy Fish and Radek Stepanek in the Washington final. Photo by Mariya Konovalova.

Nenad Zimonjić and Julien Benneteau celebrate a point during the Washington final. Photo by Mariya Konovalova.

As a winner of multiple Grand Slam titles, including back-to back Wimbledon victories in 2008 and ‘09, Zimonjić is fairly well known in tennis circles.  Together with Canada’s Daniel Nestor, he wrestled the Bryan brothers for the top spot in men’s doubles for three years, winning the year-end ATP championships in 2008 (Shanghai) and 2010 (London).  He has also won four major titles in mixed doubles, two with Slovene veteran and frequent partner Katarina Srebotnik.  While not known for his singles career, he has played solo as recently as this winter’s Davis Cup tie with Belgium and lists a 2004 win over Andre Agassi, then ranked #6 in the world, among his achievements.

Perhaps less appreciated outside of the Balkans is the role Zimonjić serves—part older brother, part elder statesman—within the Serbian tennis community.  Given his compatriot’s success in singles, it’s little surprise that the first name that comes to most people’s minds when they think of Serbian tennis is Novak Djoković.  Nevertheless, at 37 years old and with 49 doubles titles to his name, “Ziki” is widely regarded as the stalwart of Team Serbia.  Not only has he appeared in 44 Davis Cup ties but he also possesses at least one trophy to mark every year since 1999 (and the range of experiences and insight that comes with that kind of longevity).  Though Djoković is the player now most relied upon to bring points in their Davis Cup clashes, Zimonjić remains a strong presence both on and off the court.  His effect on younger players can be observed in any number of ways: a striking recent example was his steadying influence on the talented but streaky Ilija Bozoljac in their dramatic win over the Bryan brothers in Boise this spring.

Last week, it was my turn to listen and learn.

***

AM: The last time you played here, two years ago, you and Michael Llodra won the title.  Does having won a tournament before affect or motivate you in any particular way?

NZ: It’s always nice to come back to the places where you’ve played well, especially defending a title.  I don’t find it to be a pressure—it’s more like you remember that you played really well, you have good memories, and that can help you in the results.  Then again, it’s been two years now, since we had Olympic Games last summer.  But I’ve always had good experiences here in Washington; I remember playing well most of the time, so hopefully we can do the same this year.

AM: You’ve played two great matches against the Bryan Brothers this year with a lot on the line and won both.  What does it mean to beat the most accomplished team in doubles history?  Will you miss them here this week or are you and other players kind of glad when they’re not in the draw?

NZ: Not really.  I enjoy playing against the best—this is why I compete, this is why I train every day: because I want to play the best on the biggest stages.  So, if you meet them in the finals, that’s the best possible thing.  In my career, I’ve had a lot of matches against the Bryans and some of them were really big matches—some I lost, some I won.  They’re probably going to go down as the most successful team of all time and it’s nice that I’ve had the chance to play against them with various partners on various occasions.

What they’ve achieved this year is amazing, really.  Actually, it started from winning the Olympic Games—from that point on, I thought they played incredibly well.  They were so consistent, they had really great results, and they won a tournament they’ve never won (and which means a lot to them), Indian Wells.  They had chances in the past, but they didn’t make it, and it took them a while.  But now they can say that they’ve won everything that you can win in doubles.  Obviously, they want to keep winning as much as they can—and everybody on tour wants the same thing.  So, for me to play them is always a big challenge and it’s always nice to compete against the best.

AM: One difference between the Bryan Brothers and other teams is that they have worked together for so long.  Even if they weren’t twins, such a long-term partnership is an advantage.  What have been the challenges for you over the past year or so playing with so many partners?  Have you learned anything new about yourself and how you work in this period?

NZ: Obviously, it helps when you play with the same partner.  When you practice a lot together, you’re going to improve.  You’re going to have ups and downs, but you get to know each other and find a way to help each other—that’s the advantage the Bryans have.  They work extremely hard.  Then again, there are a lot of changes in doubles.  So, where they benefit the most is the beginning of the year, because a lot of guys are just getting to know each other.  This is where they have a head start—they get ahead of everybody and it’s difficult to catch them.

By playing with many different partners, I got the chance to improve my game.  Sometimes playing a different side, different styles—that helped me to become a better player.  But, my most successful partnership was with Daniel [Nestor], and that’s when we were there with the Bryans.  For the three years we played together, it came down to the last match of the season to decide who was going to be number one.  The first year, we finished #1; the second year, they finished #1; then, the third year, they finished first and we tied for third.  It was very competitive.  We played against them, I believe, fifteen matches and won nine of those; so, head-to-head, we had better results.  But, at the end, we decided to split.

Then, I thought I had a good partnership with Mika.  It took a while to get going, probably because we were expecting a little bit more from ourselves.  We knew that we were capable of playing really well, but it took time because he is also focused on his singles and we didn’t have much time to practice.  Unlike the Bryans, who practice day-in, day-out and can even play points in practice, with Mika, I can count on the figures of one hand how many times we played practice points against somebody.  So, this is something that was missing.

We stopped because they were expecting their third child during Wimbledon and I couldn’t really take a chance about when it was going to happen.  So, we decided to play with different partners.  He played with a good friend of his, his Davis Cup teammate and now captain, Arnaud Clement, for his last tournament as a professional player.  After that, Mika dropped in the singles rankings, so he had to play different tournaments.  He skipped the whole summer, when we were defending a lot of points—we won Washington and Montreal, reached the finals of Cincy.

AM: It was something like two thousand points.

NZ: Yeah.  So, when he came to the US Open, I’d been playing with different partners (two tournaments with [Paul] Hanley, with Janko at Queens and the Olympics, and with [Alexander] Peya at Wimbledon).  We still had a chance to make the [World Tour Finals]; but we knew the US Open was probably the last chance, since he’d made plans not to go to Asia—where we again had done well, winning Beijing and playing the finals in Shanghai.  So, it was a lot of pressure and that’s where we decided to split.  I had to find a different partner for the next year because I really didn’t know what to expect from him.

That’s when I decided to play with Robert.  We started the year working extremely hard, trying to get to know each other, understand our games, and find the best game style for us to play.  But in the end, it didn’t really work out.  What I can say is that we tried extremely hard, both of us.

AM: You won Rotterdam, right?

NZ: Yeah, we won Rotterdam, and we played the finals in Stockholm and Dubai—those were good results, good moments.  But we didn’t really get to understand each other, and I think it was a good decision that we stopped.

AM: How has it been working with Julien Benneteau?

NZ: Benneteau is again a singles player with whom I don’t get a lot of opportunities to practice, similar to the situation with Mika.  But we get along really well, and we were lucky to start with a win—a huge win—in Monte Carlo.  That gave us a chance to make the Masters, which is something he hasn’t achieved yet.  So, that’s a good motivation for us—and for me, it’s a challenge to make it again with a different partner.  A good thing about the Bryans winning everything is that the rest of the teams are going to fight until the end of the year to see who’s going to make it.  Even if the Bryans don’t play another match for the rest of the year, they’re going to finish number one, which is a great achievement for them.

Julien and I are hoping to work at our partnership.  It’s difficult when you start without being seeded.  We had some tough draws, then some injuries that Julien had at the French Open during his singles match.  So, it’s a little frustrating when things like this happen, but it’s part of the sport and hopefully we can continue a good partnership from here.

AM: As of today, you guys are #9 in the race, but fewer than 1000 points—essentially, spitting distance—separate the teams ranked 3-13.  Other than winning, what do you need to do over the next few months to secure a spot in London?  Are there specific adjustments you and Julien need to make as a pair?

NZ: Not really.  Sometimes you have to be a little lucky with the draw.  Here, we have a pretty tough first round, with Nestor & Lindstedt, seeded third.  The difference is that if we keep winning, starting in Washington and then Montreal, it’s going to improve our ranking so that we can get a top-eight seed at the US Open.  That would give us a little better chance to get to the quarters.  It doesn’t really matter who you play then—you’ve made some points, which is good for the race.  Later on, when you play Masters series, being seeded or getting a “bye” makes a big difference; you get a better draw, for sure.  This is where it’s a little difficult to start with a new partner, who isn’t ranked high enough.  But, I believe in our game—we proved that we can beat anybody.  Our first tournament, we played against the best teams and we won; so, I’m sure we can keep playing well.  The main thing is to stay healthy, and the results will come.

AM: Have you been in touch with Viktor since the ITF decision?

NZ: Of course I’ve talked to Viktor—he’s my great friend, like everyone on the team.   We’ve known each other a long time and know each other well; so, this news is extremely difficult for all of us.  Naturally, I already knew about this, because I was there when it happened in Monte Carlo.  I think it came down to a big misunderstanding—and Viktor will be the one to suffer, even if he’s not guilty.  I’m one-hundred percent confident that he hasn’t taken any prohibited substances.  Something very unusual happened: I think it’s partly his fault and partly the fault of the person who did the test.  She should have told him, in fact, that he absolutely doesn’t have the right to refuse to take the test.  If he were told in that way, I think he’d have done it at any cost and then everything would’ve been fine.  We’ll see what happens in the end—he has the option to appeal and I trust that we’ll at least reduce what I think is an extremely strict and heavy penalty, particularly given that he’s never tested positive for anything.  I hope it’ll end well.

AM: Moving on to Davis Cup, how will Viktor’s absence affect the team, both psychologically and strategically?

NZ: With anyone from the team absent, it makes our path harder.  If we all participate, if we’re all healthy, we have a lot more options and possibilities as far as tactics, freshness, and so on.  Certainly, it won’t be easy, given that we play right after the US Open and that Novak will surely come late.  We’ve also got to adapt to the time difference and a different surface.  Regardless, we’ve had to deal with this situation before when Novak wasn’t on the team or, this year, Janko hasn’t been with us twice.  So, in the worst-case scenario, if Viktor can’t play, I trust we’ll still find a way to get the win.

AM: Do you have any input on who will replace him, since this player might be partnering you in doubles, or does Captain Obradović make the decision on his own?

NZ: The captain always consults with me about who I’d want to play with, even though it’s not ultimately my choice who ends up being my partner because we have to decide based on who needs to be freshest for singles the next day or for some other reason.  But for the most part, we talk together—all the players.  Because I’m the oldest and most experienced, there are some things that I can predict better, at least where doubles are concerned.  So, we’ll see.

If Viktor’s not there, it decreases our options for doubles since Novak probably won’t come until Wednesday and he’s supposed to play on Friday; then, for him to play all three days would be too hard.  Whether I’ll play with Janko or maybe a fourth player—Bozoljac or Lajović—we’ll have to see what the situation is.  We have plenty of time, and those are decisions that get made a day or two in advance.

AM: What kind of reception do you think the Canadian team will get in Belgrade?

NZ: Well, Daniel and Miloš are Canadians and they’ll be representing their country.  Daniel was born in Belgrade, but he definitely feels Canadian.  Of course, the Serbian crowd will cheer for us.  But I believe there will be both Canadians and, say, Montenegrins who will be a great support for Miloš, considering he was born in Podgorica and his family is there.  So, that’s something we’re expecting.  I think it’ll be interesting in that regard, since 75% of their team—Dančević, too—have roots in the former Yugoslavia.

AM: How do you rate Serbia’s chances to get to another final?

NZ: I think we have chances against any team in the world—especially if Novak is there, because he can always deliver two points, no matter the opponent or surface.  He’s proven that and I trust it’ll be the case this time.  I also hope Janko, who has at least three tournaments before Davis Cup, will play himself into form and lift his confidence, which will be extremely important, given that he and Novak will play singles.  And that, too, will be a very important point.  I think the Canadians have a very strong team with Nestor and Pospisil, who has shown that he can play both singles and doubles exceptionally well.  Then again, we’re playing on clay—a surface on which their second player, whoever it is, really shouldn’t be able to threaten either Janko or Novak.  So, it’ll be interesting to see what kind of form Miloš is in; with his serve, he’s a very troublesome player who can surprise anyone.  But I think that kind of surprise is much harder to pull off on clay, over best-of-five sets—and that’s why I think we have an advantage irrespective of Viktor’s presence.  Of course, circumstances could arise in which Nole arrives late, or a player is tired or injured, and we don’t have an adequate substitute; but they could have the same problems.

***

Benneteau and Zimonjić went on to win not only their first match in Washington but, in fact, the whole tournament, beating Mardy Fish and Radek Stepanek in the final.  Afterwards, Nenad shared a few thoughts on the week as well as on the state of men’s doubles more generally.

Citi Open men's doubles trophy ceremony. Photo by Mariya Konovalova.

Men’s doubles trophy ceremony. Photo by Mariya Konovalova.

On the Citi Open
It feels really great to win such a big tournament.  It’s a 500 series, but not just that: it was a very strong field—you didn’t have any easy matches here.  To return after a long break and to play this well and win the tournament without losing a set is really the best way to come back to the tour.  It was a lot of fun, I have to say, for both of us to play—we had a great time here, on the court and off.  So, hopefully this will help us for the upcoming three tournaments.

On the popularity of doubles
I think in the States, doubles is quite popular—England, too.  The biggest problem is, I think, scheduling.  The biggest problem is maybe not putting the doubles at the good times, which is before the singles.  I would compare it to a boxing match or some concerts, where you go and you want to see the best at the end.  The best here is definitely singles, no question about that.  But doubles is a lot of fun: it’s a good game, it’s something different that you don’t see in singles.  I think this is a good combination—you can use both “products,” if you can call them that, and make them popular and people can enjoy them.  Before, you had guys serving and volleying, playing that style; now, in singles, you don’t have that any more.  Still, you have it in doubles, where you have these reactions and quick points that you’re not going to see in singles.  Then again, the rallies, the running, some incredible points that you’re going to see in singles, you’re not going to see in doubles.  So, I would never compare it, but I believe that you can make tennis really popular by promoting doubles as well.

On his and Federer’s racquet changes
I changed it completely.  I’ve played with the same racquet from, I would say, 2001 and this was the first week playing with this racquet.  Usually, you don’t do this in the middle of the season, if you’re not 100% sure.  But you’re never really right when you start playing—it’s one thing in practice.  So, when you come to play, it’s always nice to have this confirmation with wins and shots that you make, that, “OK, this is it, this was a good decision.”  Then, you move on.  For me, it was a very nice transition.  It’s the same brand (Head) racquet and I think it was good for me….  I don’t know about [Roger], but I’m guessing that maybe it’s a bigger sweet spot, which is the case with my racquet, and a little bit of extra power.  This is what can make a big difference nowadays, with everybody serving big and hitting the big ground-strokes.  You want to find the best equipment that you can, with the strings, with the racquet, with the shoes—this is what’s very, very important.

On playing other doubles specialists & predominantly singles players
I want to play against the best players.  For me, it doesn’t matter if you’re a singles or doubles player.  There are singles players that are really good in doubles and there are some that are not as good.  Also, the other way around…. So, you want to play against the best and to challenge yourself as an athlete.  You want to play the best singles guys, the best doubles guys—you want to play them all.  And nowadays, it’s interesting because it’s changing a little bit, the way the guys are playing.  Some of them have decided to stay back, playing from the baseline and hitting big ground-strokes; some teams are playing traditional doubles, which is what we are doing, serve and volleying; some guys are playing I-formation.  There are a lot of tactics going on; so, as a player, you have to be adjusting to all of this, practicing to get better to face all these opponents.

On doubles formats and scheduling
Regarding no-AD scoring and match tiebreaks: I think it’s a good format.  We don’t really know, because nobody made a survey after that change, if it’s the right decision to go super tiebreaker at the end or to play a regular set with no-AD—which would take maybe five or ten minutes longer, but which I think could be a little more fair.  Then again, maybe some of the singles guys would then decide not to play….  This format where you play super tiebreaker is a little tricky because you could be the much better team for the first set and most of the second, then you end up losing the set [snap!]—and you’re in the super tiebreaker and everything happens so quick.  So, sometimes this is not fair that teams like this lose—you don’t have a chance, really, to get back in the match since the super tiebreaker’s really quick.  On the other hand, the points are very interesting: every point counts, every point is a big point, it’s a lot of fun for the crowd, and we are adjusting to it.

But the format that we’re talking about and the point about playing doubles before the singles, the best example is in the [World Tour Finals] at the end of the year in London, where all the matches are televised.  The turnout is really amazing, it’s a lot of pleasure for the players and the fans.  You have both a day session and a night session and you can watch a doubles match and a singles match with the best eight teams and best eight players in the world.  I think this is the winning combination and this is what we should aim to do as much as possible.  Sometimes, the same players will be in singles and doubles, and then you have to play doubles after; but every other time, I think you should play doubles before—maybe a little closer than what we did today [the men’s doubles and singles finals were scheduled at noon and three, respectively].  Because I think if we started at one o’clock, that would still give us time to finish the match and have the ceremony.  In any case, this is much better than to play after, in my opinion.

Regarding best-of-five set matches: As a player, if you play best-of-five, you have a lot of chances to get back in the match.  If somebody wins against you, he’s definitely the better player that day.  So, you have no excuses, really.  But, in my mind, because tennis is very physical now, I think it’s really long to play best-of-five.  I love to watch tennis—I love playing, I love watching, and for me it’s too long.  I think this format that we’re testing in doubles, which is no-AD, could be very interesting in the future in singles if they were to try to change something.  Then, you would not have these long games—same thing as what happened in volleyball, with the rule changes, same thing in table tennis.  I think those are good changes.  Maybe the only difference I would suggest in singles is that it could be the server’s choice, not the receiver’s, about where to serve….  Then, you will have quick games and the matches won’t go really long—advantage, deuce, advantage, deuce—and maybe playing best-of-five wouldn’t take such a long time.  But you would make it a special thing at the Grand Slams to play best-of-five, with no-AD—why not?  This is something that maybe we should try.  At the end of the day, the best players will be at the top no matter what rules you play—everybody will adjust…. We’ll see where tennis will go, but some changes wouldn’t be bad at all.

***

Although they lost to Colin Fleming and Andy Murray in the first round of the Coupe Rogers in Montreal, the French-Serbian pair earned enough points in Washington to be seeded at the Western and Southern Open in Cincinnati next week.  They also moved into the sixth spot in the race to London.

Citi Open Players Respond to Doping Allegations

Update: Since I posted this in August, there have been a number of developments, including the release of a decision in the Čilić case and statements from both the Troicki camp and the ITF.  Troicki will have his appeal heard at the Court of Arbitration for Sport in Lausanne next week, while the ITF is apparently considering changes to its anti-doping protocols—in response to issues “highlighted” by the Serb’s case.

***

Late last week, the tennis world was hit with two surprising and confusing stories concerning players accused of violating the International Tennis Federation’s anti-doping rules.  First came the news that Serbia’s Viktor Troicki had been suspended for eighteen months after failing to provide a blood sample “without compelling justification” in Monte Carlo this spring.  Following his second-round loss to Tommy Robredo in Umag on Thursday, a “destroyed and exhausted” Troicki shared his version of events.  By the time the ITF released a 25-page report on the decision the next morning, it was clear the circumstances of the violation were even more complicated than the initial news brief suggested.  The same day, Croatian media reported that their top player, Marin Čilić, had tested positive for a banned substance in Munich and was already serving a suspension.

  • Tennis Is Served’s Zafar offers a close reading of key aspects of the ITF report and raises important questions about their anti-doping procedures.

Those of us at the Citi Open this week have been eager to hear players’ responses to the news.  While players have ranged in terms of familiarity with the details of the two cases or how directly they were willing to address them, almost all of those asked had opinions on the larger topic of the sports’ anti-doping efforts.

The first players asked about it this week were those with close ties to Troicki.  In a Monday conversation, Nenad Zimonjić said he thought his Davis Cup teammate’s “very unusual” case “came down to a big misunderstanding” between Troicki and the Doping Control Officer and called the 18-month suspension an “extremely strict and heavy” penalty.  (My full interview with Zimonjić, in which he noted that last week’s news has been quite difficult for the whole Serbian team, was published by B92; the English translation is here.)

Unsurprisingly, Andrea Petković was also outspoken in press.

Romi Cvitković: Have you been in touch with Viktor or Marin since the doping allegations came out?

AP: I just know the Viktor story. . . and I really don’t think it’s right. Because I know it from Viktor and I know how he is and I know that he falls–how do you say…? He faints every time when they take blood. So, he was just playing a match and he wasn’t feeling well; he gave the blood sample the next day and he gave his urine—both were negative. To me, [the sanction is] ridiculous.

RC: Do you think something needs to be done with the system, that it’s not quite working well, or what?

AP: Yeah, well. . . I think it’s good that the rules are strict because obviously we all want to fight doping. I think tennis was always a clean sport, so far, and there were just very rare cases of doping. That was always really nice about it. And I’m also one that says doping doesn’t really help you in tennis, because you can be the fittest guy in the world and you can lift 200 kilos in weightlifting, but that doesn’t make you a better tennis player. It doesn’t give you the overlook of the court, it doesn’t give you the feeling, it doesn’t give you the placement. So, for me, I’m the best example: I’m not the fastest player—when I run against most of the girls, I would lose in sprinting. But I see the ball quite early and then it seems as if I’m very fast on court, but I’m really not.

I think it’s good that the rules are strict. But in cases like Viktor’s, you have to be able to look past the rules and you have to be able to make decisions that are maybe. . . personally indicated on [the individual]. And as I know Viktor, and everybody who knows him very well (we’re close friends—I’ve known him since we were ten, I think), I know that every time he gets injections he was fainting and shivering before he had to have them. So, that’s a kind of thing that’s not fair.

***

Australia’s Bernard Tomić was a bit less specific.

Ana Mitrić: There have been a couple of news stories in the last week with players having possible anti-doping violations. Is that the kind of thing that you hear about online or in the locker-room—is it on your radar, or are you mostly focused on your own game?

BT: Yeah, I did see that. I did see that. It’s very interesting—and very weird as well. It’s strange, but, you know, it’s obviously their issue. Um, I mean, I can’t say a lot about it, since it’s not my issue; but, you know, it’s pretty strange how it can happen. Being a player myself, you come to realize that things are out there… Like I said, it’s not my issue, but it’s sometimes really weird and strange to see stuff happen like that.

***

After Steve Tignor’s piece about how the Čilić case may illuminate questionable ITF procedures and Simon Cambers’ interview with Bob Brett were published on Tuesday, we could get into further detail.

Romi Cvitković: Have you been tracking any of the recent doping allegations that have been going on with Troicki…? Is there anything in the system that you feel like needs to be worked on or are they handling it the right way? Are the players talking about it at all?

Grigor Dimitrov: I’m in the loop, of course, of what’s happening. I hear here and there. For now, I haven’t had any problem with any of these things. I think as far away as you stay from the conflicts and everything is better for you. Because, at the end of the day, we are here to focus on one thing—and that’s tennis, of course. So, I think it’s kind of unfortunate what happened. But I don’t think there’s any problem with the system; or, if there might be, then people need to talk about it and that’s how you solve things.

AM: Bob Brett, Marin Čilić’s ex-coach, was interviewed for a piece in the Guardian today and he said that he felt players did not get enough education about some of these things—the policies, the rules, the procedures. I happen to know that the ITF’s document is 273 pages long, so I’m assuming you haven’t read that. But, do you have a specific memory of getting information about these policies?

GD: Yeah, I remember… [Asks ATP PR and Marketing Manager Fabrizio Sestini when he completed the ATP orientation; they guess about two years ago.] A lot of players were doing this ATP University, and there, everything is kind of compact and just the most important things. I think there is where you need to pay a lot of attention and focus on what’s been happening in the ATP throughout all the years. And they give you the exact, specific [information]—whether it’s doping or betting—a bunch of things that are really important are all listed there.

We actually have a 24-hour phone that you can call for doping. Anytime, you can call and say, “Hey, listen, I have a problem with this—do you think that’s fine if I take it?” and they give you all the banned substances and all that. So, I think there is one of the times that everyone has to pay attention and be aware of what’s been happening. I think the most information that I got was back then. Now, of course, every day there’s something—not every day, but something is coming up; so, we try to keep [informed about] all that. I understand how everyone wants to just open this thing and look at it. Of course, sometimes you fall into these errors—and that’s no fun.

***

AM: There’s been a fair bit of talk on the media side this week about doping, anti-doping violations, and so on. I’m curious how aware of that you are, if there’s been much talk in the locker-room, and also whether you feel that you have good access to information about those issues?

John Isner: Yeah, I’m aware of, I guess, two incidents currently going on and I’ve read about it; but that’s all I know. As far as talk in the locker-room, there actually hasn’t been much at all. With the Americans, it’s more just talk about fantasy baseball—and, believe it or not, how I’m in ninth place. It is what it is, I think. Those situations are unfortunate and I don’t know what to think of it.

But. . . as far as hearing that the ATP or WADA don’t educate us enough, I don’t think that’s the case. For me, in particular, any time I take something, I do check it out. I don’t try to buy many supplements outside of that. So, I think the ATP actually does a good job with informing us about what we can and cannot take. I don’t know if these players intentionally did it or not; but I would side on their side, actually. But they’re two cases that are unfortunate, so we’ll see how they play out.

Lindsay Gibbs: In that same vein, there’s been a lot of talk about doping and making tennis a cleaner sport, even though there hasn’t been a big scandal—hopefully, preventing that. Do you have any thoughts on blood tests and moving toward the biological passport?

JI: I’m a huge fan of the biological passport. I just know from the Lance Armstrong case that he sort of got into trouble because of that. So, I think that if the testing can improve, and you still have those samples, absolutely go back and test that out.

But I really do think tennis, compared to other sports and other team sports, I feel like we get tested quite a bit. We get tested a lot during competition. I know I, in particular, get tested a lot out of competition and that’s not just urine—that’s blood as well. One time, I even got tested twice in one morning, within thirty minutes of each other. So, I think tennis does a good job with their testing—just from my personal experience, I’ve been tested a lot. As a whole, I really do feel that our sport is clean. These two situations are kind of a coincidence, in my opinion. As long as the tests keep improving, I would hope that they would keep implementing that. Especially the biological passport—I think that’d be great.

***

Lindsay Gibbs: Obviously, doping’s been in the news a lot lately, with the Troicki and Čilić cases. Do you have any thoughts on that and on the direction tennis is going?

Mardy Fish: Our doping system is extremely tough, I know that. I know that I have to give an hour every single day of my life to doping. So, yeah, it’s been in the news, we’ve heard some stories. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Viktor’s thing or Čilić’s thing. I don’t know—I haven’t really looked at it. But, it’s not something I have to concern myself with; I don’t need to worry about it.

AM: Related to that, you’re obviously a veteran; so, it’s probably been a while since you did your ATP University orientation. Do you remember much about that program, particularly information that you got about things like anti-doping rules & policies? Is that the kind of thing where you get an update every now and then?

MF: I don’t remember much—ATP University was a long, long time ago. It could have been fifteen years ago now. But, we do get updates, yes. We get notifications. . . There’s things constantly coming through your e-mail: updates on player regulations, whether it’s the size of your logo for who’s sponsoring your shirt or anti-doping things [Sestini chimes in with “prohibited lists”]. We have updated versions at all times.

AM: So, if you heard, for instance, Bob Brett saying that he doesn’t think players are sufficiently educated on some of these things and that maybe there needs to be more done on that side, would that not quite jell with your experience?

MF: It wouldn’t be my experience, no. I mean, I would like to take that pretty seriously. Again, I don’t have to worry about anything. But, in Čilić’s case, he took something that maybe. . . You know, sometimes you get can really sick and it takes some sort of medication to make you feel better, and you feel extremely ill and there’s only one thing that makes you feel better, but you can’t take it, and sometimes guys take a chance, I’m sure. I don’t know—I’ve never been in that situation before, but there’s a lot of things we can’t take that we don’t really understand, but that might mask something or whatever.

But in my experience, no. In my experience, my trainer and I take it very seriously and I ask him about every single thing that goes into some sort of pill form or cream form that we’re using and make sure that something like that would never, ever happen.

***

On Wednesday, Cambers followed up with further excerpts from his conversation with Bob Brett, after which I posed related questions to a few more players.

AM: Assuming you’ve heard the news coming out of late last week about Viktor Troicki and Marin Čilić regarding possible violations of anti-doping rules, any comment on things that are going on with rules, procedures, & enforcement?

Miloš Raonić: I don’t know their situations specifically—I don’t know exactly what’s gone on with them.  But, I think as far as it goes between how we’re being tested and how often we’re being tested, sometimes, obviously, it can be frustrating.  You just lose a match and they’re asking you for time right away—so, it can be frustrating, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.

***

AM: You’ve been around for a while.  Have you noticed a change or any shifts in terms of how the tennis community is talking about or dealing with doping issues and anti-doping prevention, testing, that kind of thing, in recent years?

Tommy Haas: Well, it’s always such a tough thing to talk about, really.  You know, you want to make sure everything is clean, you want to make sure this is a clean sport, and you want to be tested as much as possible—which I’m all for.  Urine, blood, whatever it is: do whatever you need to do in order to find out if I’m taking something or not; I’ve got no problem with that.  Our sport has been very clean over many, many years, in some ways.  I think it’s sort of something to look for in sports, in general—if you look at other sports, how many things are going on there.  So, it’s a tough subject to deal with and, obviously, recently we’ve heard of a couple of players; who knows what’s going on there.  I don’t know if they’re going to go to court, if lawyers are involved—who knows?  We’ve had a few issues in the past, so we’ll see what happens.

***

AM: There’s been a lot of talk about doping across different sports, with cycling, baseball, and running.  But recently, in tennis, there’s been more talk about that, with the shift to the blood passport and then last week’s news about Troicki and Čilić.  Have you been hearing much talk about that and are those policies and procedures things that you talk with your trainer about to make sure you know everything that’s going on?

Juan Martin del Potro: Yeah, well, the anti-doping are very hard with us—they’re very strict in the tests and we know everything.  But, in those two cases it’s difficult to say something.  I mean, I think Troicki’s going to appeal in the next weeks and Marin Čilić is not official yet, so we have to wait.  Of course, we talk about that in the locker-rooms, but nobody wants to say anything before the official information.

AM: Do you think it’s a sign that the ITF is trying to take things even more seriously?

JMDP: I don’t know.  We have tests during all the year, within competition—and off-court, also—and all the players know that.  It’s for all the players the same rule.  But we have to wait in these two cases [to see] what’s going to happen and then we will have more information to explain.

***

AM: Obviously, we all know you were kidding about the vials earlier [asked about Tommy Haas’s longevity and the increased number of players traveling with trainers or physiotherapists, Tursunov joked that he sees the German “carrying vials all the time”], but the topic of doping and anti-doping initiatives has been in the news a lot, especially last week, with Marin Čilić and Viktor Troicki.  So, I’m wondering what your thoughts are on ITF efforts—specifically, whether they seem to be stepping up and trying to take those things more seriously and also whether you feel you get good information about the issues (for example, updated lists) and if that’s something you and your trainer talk about as well.

Dmitry Tursunov: Well, the thing with the list is that. . . we’re aware of the list—I mean, we have all the information.  The problem is that we don’t have a portable chemical lab; we can’t take a Gatorade and see what’s contained in that.  And quite a few factories process a lot of the things that are allowed and some of the things that are not allowed; so, if that somehow gets mixed in, it’s still our responsibility.  Essentially, we would have to test everything we put into our bodies to make sure that we don’t test positive.  So, it’s our responsibility in the end.  Sometimes it happens, like in the case with Marin Čilić: from what I understood, they found that  whatever he took contained [something that] was prohibited; but, in the end, he still gets fined. . .  I mean, I understand that ITF would have to take some sort of measures, because it would be very hard to explain why they can’t take the measures, but I think it’s a tough call.  ITF has to do something about it; but, at the same time, in these cases, if a player took something by accident, he didn’t mean to take it, he wasn’t trying to take that, yet he’s still sidelined.

So, the best suggestion that we can get is, “Don’t take anything that you’re not sure about.”  But, to be honest, how sure are you that Gatorade doesn’t have anything?  And then, we go anywhere and try to get something to eat—if that has something that’s prohibited, it’s our fault.  So, it’s a tough balance of taking something just so you can survive—at least, taking a Flintstones [vitamin], but even Flintstones could potentially contain something prohibited.  It’s a tough topic.  I mean, we can’t eat organic all the time; you can’t go to Whole Foods in Umag, Croatia, so you have to just try to be smart about it.  But, at the same time, we cannot compete at this level, playing for three hours in this weather, and not take any supplements.  We cannot eat enough food or drink enough Gatorade to replenish what we’re losing.  So, we have to take something extra—and not necessarily something prohibited; a lot of times, people who test positive are not trying to do it.  If someone is doing it on purpose, then that’s another story.