In a post-match controversy that has split the tennis world, Novak Djokovic once again found himself at the center of heated debate following Lorenzo Musetti’s mid-match retirement due to injury during their high-stakes encounter at the 2026 Australian Open. The Serbian legend, chasing yet another Grand Slam title and his place in the GOAT conversation, claimed victory when Musetti retired trailing in the second set. What followed was a fiery press conference and a blistering social-media statement that has fans and pundits arguing over sportsmanship, arrogance, and what it truly means to be the greatest of all time.
The match itself started as a classic generational clash: the 38-year-old 24-time major champion against the 23-year-old Italian flair player who has long been tipped as a future star. Musetti, known for his one-handed backhand and creative shot-making, pushed Djokovic hard in the opening set before an apparent abdominal strain forced him to call the trainer. After a medical timeout, he battled on briefly but eventually shook Djokovic’s hand and walked off court, ending the contest in just over an hour of play.

Djokovic’s immediate reaction on court was measured—he raised his arms in quiet acknowledgment of the win and signed autographs for fans. But behind closed doors, the frustration boiled over. In the press room, he delivered a response that has since gone viral and divided opinion.
When asked about suggestions on social media that he had “dodged a bullet” and that Musetti was on the verge of a breakthrough upset, Djokovic snapped back with unmistakable sarcasm:
“He’s just a lucky guy, there’s no way he could beat Musetti and yet he acts like he’s the GOAT.”
The quote, clearly aimed at anonymous online critics who had trolled him during the match, was delivered with a smirk that only fuelled the fire. Then came the most contentious part:
“I know I could beat Musetti, but I was going to do it from the third set onwards to give him a bit of hope, but he retired because of injury—what did I do wrong?”
The room fell silent for a moment before a ripple of murmurs spread. Djokovic continued, defending his mindset:
“I don’t play to humiliate anyone. I play to win, and I play to win decisively. If I see an opponent struggling, I still give them respect by staying focused and professional. But let’s be honest—if he had stayed out there, the scoreline in the third and fourth would have looked very different. I was ready to turn it up. He chose to stop. That’s tennis.”

Less than ten minutes after the press conference ended, Djokovic doubled down on Instagram and X (formerly Twitter) with a single, carefully worded post that has racked up millions of views:
“Another win, another round closer. To those saying I ‘only won because he got hurt’—watch the tape. I was controlling the match from the first point. Injuries happen; it’s part of sport. But don’t rewrite history to fit your narrative. Respect the game. Respect the grind. And respect what it takes to stay at the top for two decades. #NoExcuse #24andCounting”
The message ignited an immediate firestorm. Supporters flooded the comments with fire emojis, goat emojis, and declarations of unwavering loyalty. “King Novak stays undefeated in the mind games,” one fan wrote. “He’s not arrogant—he’s honest,” read another popular reply.
Critics, however, were merciless. Many pointed to the phrasing—“I was going to let him dream a little longer”—as evidence of arrogance bordering on disrespect. Former players and pundits weighed in quickly. Nick Kyrgios, never one to hold back, tweeted: “Mate, just take the W and move on. Saying you were ‘letting him dream’ makes you sound like you’re playing charity tennis. Humble wins more fans than this.”
Renowned commentator Brad Gilbert called the comments “unnecessary fuel on the fire,” while Mats Wilander, usually a Djokovic admirer, said on Eurosport: “Novak is the greatest competitor I’ve ever seen, but sometimes he hands his enemies ammunition. That line about giving hope in the third set? It’s true—he probably would have won anyway—but you don’t say it out loud. It diminishes the opponent and makes the victory feel cheap.”
Musetti himself, speaking from the locker room, took a gracious line: “I fought as hard as I could until my body said no. Novak is one of the best ever. No complaints from me. I’ll be back stronger.”
Yet the online discourse refused to die down. A poll posted by a major tennis account showed a near-even split: 51% agreed with Djokovic’s right to defend himself aggressively, while 49% felt his words crossed into poor sportsmanship. The hashtag #DjokovicArrogant trended alongside #GOATForever for hours.
Analysts have tried to place the incident in broader context. Djokovic, now in his late 30s, faces constant scrutiny over whether his dominance is waning. Every loss—or even a tough win—is dissected for signs of decline. Every victory is met with asterisks: “He only won because the opponent was injured,” “The draw was easy,” “He’s past his prime.” The Serbian has grown visibly tired of the narrative, and his latest outburst appears to be a deliberate pushback against years of perceived slights.
Some psychologists and sports commentators have suggested this is classic “siege mentality”—the same mindset that has powered Djokovic through injuries, controversies, crowd hostility, and vaccine mandates. By framing himself as the perpetual underdog fighting doubters, he maintains motivation even at the peak of success.

Others argue it reveals insecurity. “The true GOAT doesn’t need to remind people he’s going to crush you in straight sets,” one tennis podcaster remarked. “Roger and Rafa rarely felt the need to verbalize dominance like this.”
Whatever the interpretation, the episode has once again highlighted the razor-thin line Djokovic walks: adored by millions for his resilience and records, yet criticized by many for what they see as a lack of humility. His rivalries with Federer and Nadal were defined in part by grace under pressure; Djokovic’s persona has always been more combative, more defiant.
As the Australian Open progresses, all eyes will be on whether this controversy becomes a motivating spark or a distraction. Djokovic advances to the next round with another win on paper, but the conversation around his legacy has grown louder and more polarized than ever.
In tennis, as in life, victory is never just about the scoreboard. Sometimes it’s about the words spoken after the final point—and how those words echo long after the court lights go out.