In all probability, this debacle will be even harder for Djokovic to digest than the last time he was ejected from a big event. Which happened only 16 months ago: an unprecedented default from the US Open, triggered by the loose ball he struck into a line-judge’s throat.
Where the New York drama unfolded in one breathless instant, Djokovic’s immigration saga has moved slower than Chief Justice Allsop’s laconic delivery, leaving him to bear the weight of the world’s media for almost a fortnight. His cause might have attracted some unexpected supporters – including Nigel Farage – but the weight of public opinion has been against him. Even for a man who thrives on antagonism, he is sure to feel profoundly bruised.
How will the whole Melbourne mess-up affect his legacy? In truth, recent events do little but confirm what we already knew. That Djokovic is a man apart; that he struggles to read public sentiment; and that he will never change his views simply because he finds himself in a minority.
His awkwardness is priced-in, rather as Boris Johnson’s gaffe-prone habits were at the time of the last election. And if you already admired Djokovic, you are unlikely to change your mind now.
It’s easy to become caught up in recency bias. Should Djokovic roar back to claim his 21st major this summer, and so cement his reputation as the most dominant male player of all time, this whole fortnight will soon feel like ancient history.
First, though, he has some soul-searching to do. Changing its rules at a whim, the Australian government has done its utmost to humiliate him. For all Djokovic’s renowned resilience, a scandal of this magnitude is certain to leave a scar.