So, okay, picture this: it’s this bright, bustling morning in Monte-Carlo. Phones up and at ‘em, fans everywhere basically trying to snag a pic or vid of Novak Djokovic, who, by the way, is like the local rock star here, even though the guy technically only lives here part-time or something. Whatever. I mean, people seriously love him, snapping away like crazy. And, honestly, why not? It’s freaking Djokovic.
But here’s the kicker — enter Alejandro Tabilo. Now, who’s got a clue who Tabilo was before that day? Not many, I reckon. Yet, he strolls in and essentially says, “No photos, please,” and boots Djokovic out of the tournament with this no-nonsense 6-2, 6-4 win. Talk about an unexpected plot twist. Kinda like if your morning coffee turned out to be decaf. Disappointing, to say the least, especially if you’re a Djokovic fan.
And Djokovic? Man… poor guy. He just comes off the back of an eye infection — yeah, those things you think only happen to kids or folks who forget to wash their hands. Anyway, he’d been battling this infection through the Miami Open (which, spoiler alert, he didn’t win, thanks to Jakub Mensik). So, he hits Monte-Carlo feeling about as blah as one can be. You could almost see the storm cloud over his head. Actually, he summed it up himself sorta like this: “Worst day. Horrible. Like, seriously, just embarrassing.”
He fires up this serve in Miami, barely breaking a sweat, and then, boom — Monte-Carlo hits him like a freight train, someone stops the music. His serve fizzles to a sad 54 percent. Might as well have been serving with his eyes closed. Dude faced eight break points (ugh), and his mistakes? A whopping 29 unforced errors. Twice as bad compared to Tabilo — ouch.
Tabilo, by the way, is on a bit of a roll against Djokovic. Repeat performance, really. Last year, he just waltzed into Rome and clobbered him. Maybe there’s some cosmic alignment whenever they meet on clay because it’s the second time, mind you, that he’s toppled Djokovic on this surface. Seems Tabilo’s got some kind of magic on clay, sucker-punching Top 10 players whenever he feels like it.
And then, in true Djokovic fashion, when nudged about his plans for the rest of the season, he smirks and goes, “Roland Garros.” That’s like mumbling “world domination” if you’re a tennis player. Guess we’ll see how that pans out when the clay settles. But hey, here’s to hoping the next match isn’t such a “horrible” day at the office, yeah?
