JAN MOIR: Novak Djokovic scythed his racket like a madman trying to fell an oak in his loss to Carlos Alcaraz in the Wimbledon final
Every year Wimbledon fans ask themselves the same questions. Why are the strawberries so expensive? What length is the grass on Centre Court? And how on earth does Andrew Castle keep his job?
Somehow, the former world number 80 has become the principal tennis commentator for the BBC. No one really knows why, it just happened, like five sets suddenly becoming three sets in the men’s doubles.
On Sunday, calamitous Castle led the broadcast team of Tim Henman and Todd Woodbridge in the coverage of what Annabel Croft ever-so-correctly calls the Gentlemen’s Singles Final. And as Novak Djokovic and Carlos Alcaraz thrashed it out on court, he wasted no time in proving why he inspires millions of viewers every year – to reach for the mute button.
‘If you are just turning on, this is not a computer game,’ he chirped, early in the match. Unamusing! ‘It is a rare thing to win a grand slam before you’ve reached the age of 21, it’s been done a number of times,’ he said later. Confusing!
‘You only get one point for each of those points,’ he loftily informed us at one point. Totally bemusing, like so much of his commentary. To be honest, I got completely lost among the various explanations of why the Centre Court crowd were booing and/or cheering Djokovic as the match progressed.
‘I’m not sure we can’t all understand the frustration,’ he cooed sympathetically; a double negative of utter nonsense to excuse Djokovic scything his racket into the net post in the manner of a madman trying to fell an oak with a single blow
‘It is understandable how upset he would be, he has just lost his serve in the fifth set,’ was the smooth excuse
‘He seems mildly offended by the support his opponent is getting,’ we were informed. But was he? ‘No, he would hate it if we all started cheering for him.’ But would he? ‘He will relish now this contest.’ But why? ‘Because this is not exactly a crowd that doesn’t love the champion.’
I wasn’t the only one who was befuddled.
‘Whoever is the clown in that commentator box needs to just not speak,’ tweeted Australian tennis player Nick Kyrgios. ‘He is spoiling the match big time.’
And was it my imagination, or was there a general pitter-patter of light patronisation when it came to discussing Carlos Alcaraz? In the pre-match build- up, Clare Balding was interviewing Henman and Woodbridge and these wise heads all agreed that ‘not one senior player thinks Alcaraz can win this match’.
In the box during the match, the 20-year-old was variously described as ‘the young Spaniard’; ‘this talented Spaniard’; and the ‘elastic’ Spaniard. When he triumphed in a thrilling volley, it was ‘the winning blow delivered by the Spaniard.’
It was notable that no one called Djokovic the ‘old Serb’, ‘the surly Serb’ or the ‘bendy-wendy Serb’, even when there was plenty good reason. Indeed, Castle’s increasingly grating support for Djokovic did not waver throughout the five- hour match; not when the player was bad-tempered, not when he was petulant, not even when he lost.
‘Nobody beats Djokovic for stamina,’ he foamed, in a fan boy flutter of adoration. ‘He’s just venting a little,’ he coolly explained, when furious Djokovic was bawling on about something or other.
‘I’m not sure we can’t all understand the frustration,’ he cooed sympathetically; a double negative of utter nonsense to excuse Djokovic scything his racket into the net post in the manner of a madman trying to fell an oak with a single blow.
Every year Wimbledon fans ask themselves the same questions. Why are the strawberries so expensive? What length is the grass on Centre Court? And how on earth does Andrew Castle keep his job?
Carlos Alcaraz of Spain hits a backhand against Novak Djokovic of Serbia in the final of the men’s singles
Djokovic reaches for a backhand shot against Alcaraz
The moment of pure joy when the 20-year-old Spaniard celebrates his win
Alcaraz gestures to the crowd during his Wimbledon’s final against Djokovic
‘It is understandable how upset he would be, he has just lost his serve in the fifth set,’ was the smooth excuse.
By his side, All England Club company man Tim Henman wasn’t much better. ‘Let’s move on,’ he said, quenching further discussion of the axeman moment.
And when Djokovic took a prolonged bathroom break, he was there to fill us in on the Wimbledon plumbing. ‘Both players have their own waiting room and bathroom facilities,’ he droned. Four ply or quilted? I don’t want to know. If Andrew Castle is bad on the action, he is even worse on the downtimes, filling in match lulls with the kind of absurd chat that sometimes veers into the back court of bad taste. He has no filter!
He chatted on about how his colleague Annabel Croft lost her husband earlier in the year and the memorial is on Thursday and of how Prince Louis wasn’t in the royal box with his family because he’d couldn’t be trusted to behave properly. At one point early on, when Alcaraz had yet to win a game, the cameras hovered over luscious Brad Pitt in the crowd.
‘How does he look like that at 59 years old?’ said Andrew. There are a lot of moments like this, when one wonders if he is professionally commentating or just thinking aloud.
What was unforgivable was that even in his moment of ultimate triumph, Castle could not throw the underdog a bone. Poor Carlos Alcaraz was still the secondary citizen, still referred to only in terms of Djokovic’s loss rather than his own win.
‘He has beaten the best of all time, he has beaten the man who is virtually invincible on this court,’ he babbled, adding: ‘This victory certainly does not diminish Djokovic.’
But actually Andrew, it did. He came second. He lost.
‘He’ll be back,’ insisted the commentator.
Maybe so. But will he? Fingers crossed.