A Novak Djokovic victory is almost always impressive but rarely inspirational, akin to watching someone recreate a Jackson Pollock painting drop by drop from the world’s longest instruction manual. As a physical accomplishment, it’s amazing. As a piece of drama, or really just athletic narrative, it’s a little dull. For full appreciation as an athlete in a state of continual self-improvement, he requires the right context.
In which our hero wins his club a huge match and gets hated on. With good reason, this time.
Sports coverage can annoy, but it has a baseline—the games every fan cares about—against which we can judge the mountains of bullshit. Political reporting, sadly, has no clear bottom.