Daniil Medvedev revels in his role as a spoiler.
He knows well that few people expected him–or let’s be honest–really hoped for him to be a part of this US Open final. The buzz all tournament long was the budding rivalry between Novak Djokovic and Carlos Alcaraz. That was the final, a rematch of their already-classic five-set final at Wimbledon in July, many fans were banking on.
To have Medvedev–despite the fact that he has his own rivalry of sorts with Djokovic and is himself a former US Open champion, with a full slate of classics under his belt–was a bit of a buzzkill for some.
But Medvedev would probably have it no other way.
The world No. 3 is a disruptor. That’s a term that’s been overused in the world of startups and social media. But at its core, it’s what best describes the unique package, and problems for opponents, that Medvedev presents.
On Sunday afternoon, Medvedev tried desperately to continue his disrupting ways. He hoped to reprise his convincing victory in the 2021 US Open final over Djokovic, when Medvedev spoiled the Serb’s designs on the calendar Grand Slam. But he ran out of his brand of quirky magic against the all-time major winner, who was just too impenetrable and too precise, and who returned the favor with his own straight-sets win.
“Novak, when he loses, he’s never the same after,” Medvedev said before the match. “He’s going to be 10 times better than he was that day. I want to still beat him. [I have to be] 10 times better than I was that day.”
On Sunday, Medvedev clearly was not “the best-ever version of myself” that he said he would need to be to win.
“It's not easy to repeat because against Carlos, I played one of best matches of my life,” said Medvedev. “Against Novak here two years ago, it's kind of in the same category. It's not that easy to repeat it day in, day out.”
Medvedev didn’t earn a break point until the 17th game of the match. When the third seed couldn’t put a visibly gassed Djokovic away in the second-set tiebreak, it was all but over.
“For sure, [a] pity that I didn't win the second set because I felt like I was all over him, like I was dominating in a way,” said Medvedev after the match.
But this US Open campaign did serve to reestablish Medvedev, 27, as a contender for majors and to prove that he is not content to be passed over by a younger generation led by Alcaraz. Prior to his semifinal here with the Spaniard, Medvedev hadn’t won more than three games in any of his previous five sets against Alcaraz. Medvedev solved that puzzle, but he couldn’t solve Djokovic.
The game is infinitely more interesting with a character like Medvedev at the forefront. He is, to put it mildly, an unorthodox professional tennis player. If 20-year-old Carlos Alcaraz almost seems to be an amalgamation of Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Djokovic–like a programming wizard went into the lab and prompted AI with “Assemble the Big Three’s individual greatest attributes in one player”–Medvedev is a very different creation.
The individual components of Medvedev would not seem to work in this age of meticulously gym-produced athletes. He is impossibly lanky and unsculpted. Yet the 6-foot-6 beanpole races around the court, with loping strides and willowy arms and defends nearly on par with Nadal or Djokovic. He stands impossibly deep to return serve, sometimes 20 feet behind the baseline, endangering the ball kids with his racquet, yet he can laser the ball with pace from that vantage point.
His bizarre-looking wind-up, whip-snap forehand looks like it would only produce obscene errors, yet it results in screaming winners and low balls that skid off the court and graze opponents’ shoelaces. On his two-fisted backhand, Medvedev holds his hands far apart on the grip, more like he’s wielding an ax than a tennis racquet.
It all serves to unsettle opponents. Medvedev can be aggressive and he can be passive, and he can flip the switch in an instant. He can produce somnambulant strokes, lazy rally balls that lull opponents to sleep, only to be awakened with a suddenly smacked backhand.
None of these things should work, and yet they do–often spectacularly. Medvedev is definitely a case of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts. As super coach Darren Cahill has said, no one would teach juniors any of Medvedev’s shots.
In his semifinal takedown of Alcaraz, Medvedev painted line after line. Sideline, baseline, risky second serves on the service line: The ball seemed to land nowhere else. The third seed sprinted from the shadowy margins of Arthur Ashe Stadium to run down the Spaniard’s patented drop shots, rendering that key weapon nearly useless.
“That obviously is amazing how he can return from the back of the court really deep and really powerful,” Alcaraz said after their match. “And when I do serve and volley, he always found the passing shot from his house.”
Medvedev’s “house” is constructed a little differently than most pro players.
“He has the most authentic personality on tour,” Djokovic said at the trophy presentation. Medvedev doesn’t mind being different. But in the final on Sunday, Medvedev wished for a different result.
“I wanted to feel the energy in this stadium and to really play well,” he said on court after his defeat. “I really hope that one day again I can hold this trophy.”
