Chapter 3: The Price of Attrition
The 2009 Madrid semifinal was a glorious match, but it may have wrecked the rest of the season for both Nadal and Djokovic, who were beginning to show signs of wear from their matches.
The Djokovic-Nadal rivalry had something of a recovery period after the 2009 Madrid semifinal. That match was the first time they—or any two players had in a while, for that matter—had really killed each other physically in a best-of-three match. The semifinal lasted four hours and three minutes, an obscene length for a non-slam-event match. Nadal, despite leading the head-to-head with Federer 13-6, and 9-1 on clay, couldn’t win the Madrid final, undoubtedly in large part because he had less than 24 hours to recover from the grueling semi. The 6-4, 6-4 loss was just the second time Nadal had lost to Federer on clay, and the last time he ever would.
The Madrid semifinal broke both Djokovic and Nadal for a while, and it altered the whole landscape of the 2009 season. Nadal’s body was simply spent from his manic start to the year. At Roland-Garros, he suffered his first ever loss on the Parisian clay, falling to Robin Söderling in the fourth round. Djokovic, whose hangover was likely more mental after the brutal loss, fell to Philipp Kohlschreiber in the third round by the lukewarm score of 6-4, 6-4, 6-4. Federer would win the title, a shocking turn of events given how Nadal had been running the table in the clay season. Djokovic had even looked a more likely challenger than Federer, despite the Swiss having made the final at Roland-Garros the past three seasons. After playing so well on clay in the previous years only to be routinely stopped by Rafa, Federer winning Roland-Garros felt almost like a Cinderella story even though he was on pace to be the most successful male player ever. At the same time, the clay season had been about Djokovic and Nadal. They had played in the Monte-Carlo final, the Rome final, and the Madrid semifinal. As impressive and heartwarming as Federer’s run was—he kissed the clay after Söderling’s final shot fell into the net—he had picked up the pieces in the wake of Djokovic and Nadal’s burnout.

The 2009 Madrid semifinal, in retrospect, was ominous. Given what had happened afterwards, it felt almost too intense, like if a match could result in both players flaming out for a while, it might be too much of a good thing. It had been a spellbinding contest, but if Djokovic and Nadal could stretch a three-set match to four hours, what would they do the next time they met at a major? What would happen if and when Djokovic improved his endurance? Both players are much more well-rounded now than they were in 2009, and part of that is due to the fact that their 2009 styles were too conducive to brutal marathons. When their games meshed at a high level, there was no easy way forward for either player. They were so balanced, and fast, and offensively capable, that points were often won through untouchable shots or staggering rallies rather than the traditional unforced error or easy winner.
The rest of 2009 and most of 2010 featured little of the same heavenly attrition. Djokovic and Nadal played three more times in 2009, all on hard courts, with Djokovic winning all six sets. Nadal, after losing at Roland-Garros and skipping Wimbledon entirely due to knee issues, had seen his aura and form diminish considerably from his awe-inspiring start of the season. The losses to Djokovic were hard to read much into as a result. That said, they were still indicative of one important factor: the matchup often favored Djokovic on hard courts, and if Nadal wasn’t sharp enough to be the consistent aggressor, it became mission impossible for the Spaniard. On faster, lower-bouncing surfaces, Djokovic could neutralize Nadal’s forehand by rushing it with his flat, hard strokes (his crosscourt backhand gets most of the credit, but his inside-out forehand was also a key weapon), and since his own offense required less time to load up, he could blast away to his heart’s content. Not only that, but Djokovic could engage Nadal’s backhand with his forehand—in a similar way to how Nadal picked apart backhands with his own forehand—and win the lion’s share of those exchanges. Though Djokovic still trailed 14-7 in the head-to-head, at the end of 2009, he had a 7-3 edge on hard courts.
Djokovic was sharper than Nadal in the second half of the year even outside of the rivalry, but still couldn’t quite match Federer, who beat him in the Cincinnati final and the U.S. Open semifinal (though Djokovic scored a win against Federer in the Swiss’s home tournament, Basel). During the clay season, it had seemed like the year could be at the mercy of Djokovic and Nadal, but especially the latter. The Madrid semifinal marked an inflection point that might as well have separated two entirely different seasons.
2009 was the first sign that as exceptional as Djokovic and Nadal were, their attritional playing styles could pose some dangers. Federer’s game was less balanced, with a vulnerable backhand and poorer return of serve, but its higher peaks in his excellent serve and nuclear forehand made it much easier for him to cruise through matches. Nadal and Djokovic were better at returning than serving, relatively speaking, which resulted them breaking serve frequently, but also longer points and matches. There was no quick way through the wall on the other side of the net during their matches besides peaking or being the beneficiary of a diminished opponent. They could not rely on their serves to do consistent damage, so they could never coast. The alarm bells were ringing, even as early as 2009, but it would be another few years before Djokovic and Nadal fully adapted to the problem.
Thanks so much for reading The Golden Rivalry. It was a bit of a shorter chapter this time following the long match analysis in the last two editions, but we’ll be back to dissecting crucial points and matches in a blink. Next time: how Djokovic started to bridge the gap between perennial contender and the dominator he became in 2011. See you then. -Owen