‘I Was Never As Loved As Federer and Nadal’ – Djokovic Finally Breaks Silence on Being the ‘3rd Guy’

In the world of men’s tennis, few rivalries have captured the imagination of fans like the one between Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, and Novak Djokovic. The trio dominated the sport for nearly two decades, rewriting record books and thrilling audiences across continents. But while Federer and Nadal have long been hailed as beloved icons, Djokovic has often found himself cast as the outsider — the third man in a golden era dominated by two fan favorites.

Now, in a revealing and emotional interview, Novak Djokovic has broken his silence on the emotional toll of being the so-called “3rd guy”. In candid reflections, the Serbian champion opens up about never feeling as loved, the psychological challenges of constantly being compared, and his complex legacy in one of sport’s most celebrated rivalries.

The Pain of Perception

Novak Djokovic may be the most statistically successful tennis player in history, boasting more Grand Slam titles, weeks at world No. 1, and head-to-head victories than either Federer or Nadal. Yet, for years, he has also been the most divisive figure among the Big Three.

“I was never as loved as Federer and Nadal,” Djokovic admitted in a recent conversation with a European sports magazine. “It used to hurt. It really did.”

This is a truth that even the most casual tennis observer could sense. Whether it was the roars of Wimbledon’s Centre Court crowd when Federer hit an ace, or the passionate chants of “Vamos Rafa!” echoing through Roland Garros, fans worldwide seemed to embrace Federer’s grace and Nadal’s grit — while treating Djokovic’s brilliance with a colder, more skeptical gaze.

“I often felt like I was playing not just against my opponent,” Djokovic continued, “but against the crowd, the narrative, and the weight of expectations that weren’t mine.”

From Villain to Victor

Despite the emotional toll, Djokovic never allowed himself to crumble under the weight of indifference. Instead, he built a career on resilience, channeling doubt and criticism into fuel for greatness. He became the iron man of tennis, a relentless, unbreakable competitor with an uncanny ability to rise when others fell.

Still, the labels stuck. Federer was the artist. Nadal was the warrior. Djokovic? To many, he was the disrupter — the one who dared to crash their party.

“I understood why fans loved them,” he said. “Roger played like poetry. Rafa fought like a gladiator. Me? I was the guy who broke their hearts.”

That self-awareness doesn’t come easy, and Djokovic’s words are not laced with bitterness, but with something deeper — a man who, after years of fighting for his place in history, now finally understands his role within it.

The Battle for Love, Not Just Trophies

For Novak Djokovic, it was never just about the titles. Yes, he chased greatness — and achieved it. But beneath that relentless drive was a deeper hunger: to be accepted, to be respected, to be loved.

“It’s human nature,” he explains. “When you give your life to something, you hope the world will love you back for it.”

But for Djokovic, that love was often conditional. When he beat Federer in the 2019 Wimbledon final in one of the most dramatic matches of all time, saving two match points and silencing a pro-Federer crowd, he held up the trophy — yet faced a sea of lukewarm applause. He smiled. But behind the smile, he now admits, was a quiet ache.

“I learned not to expect love,” he said. “I just focused on earning respect. And over time, I believe I did.”

A Legacy Built on Hard Truths

While Federer and Nadal often appeared to glide through the sport with halos over their heads, Djokovic’s path was paved with confrontation and resistance. Whether it was his on-court outbursts, his controversial opinions off the court, or his stance during the COVID-19 pandemic, Djokovic has never shied away from conflict.

But that very defiance is what has made him great. He is the embodiment of what it means to fight for your place, especially when it isn’t freely given. In a world that adored Federer’s elegance and Nadal’s humility, Djokovic had to demand attention through undeniable excellence.

“I realized that no amount of Grand Slams would make people love me like they love Roger or Rafa,” he said. “And I made peace with that.”

Now, with over 24 Grand Slam titles, Djokovic stands as the statistical greatest men’s player of all time, a record that may never be matched. Yet the question remains — will he ever be embraced as warmly?

The Cultural Divide

Part of the complex relationship between Djokovic and the global fanbase lies in identity and origin. Federer, the Swiss maestro, came from a country often associated with elegance and neutrality. Nadal, the Spanish bull, represented passion and perseverance. Djokovic, from war-torn Serbia, brought a different narrative.

“I grew up during bombings,” he said. “We didn’t have much. But I had a dream. And I had the fire to chase it.”

This underdog story, though inspirational, never seemed to resonate in the same way. Perhaps it was unfamiliar. Perhaps it was political. Or perhaps it was just that tennis had already chosen its darlings when Djokovic arrived.

“I was late to the party,” Djokovic admits. “But I was determined to stay at the table.”

Federer, Nadal, and the Shadow of Greatness

Throughout their careers, all three legends have expressed deep respect for each other. But it was clear that Federer and Nadal shared a unique bond — one based on friendship, mutual admiration, and shared moments of vulnerability. Djokovic, though often included in the narrative, seemed like the outsider.

He was the rival both Federer and Nadal had to take seriously, but he was rarely the one they appeared to embrace as emotionally.

“They had a connection I didn’t have with either of them,” Djokovic says now. “And I had to accept that, too.”

Yet what makes this dynamic even more fascinating is that Djokovic has a winning head-to-head record against both Federer and Nadal, a fact often underplayed in discussions about legacy.

“I may not be the most loved,” he said, “but I beat them when it mattered. And that’s something I’ll always carry with pride.”

A New Era of Acceptance

As Federer has retired and Nadal approaches the twilight of his career, Djokovic remains the last man standing — still winning, still competing, still hungry. And in recent years, the tide of public opinion seems to be shifting.

Fans have begun to appreciate the complexity of his journey. Younger players idolize his longevity and dedication. Even die-hard Federer or Nadal fans now begrudgingly acknowledge his greatness.

“Time gives perspective,” Djokovic says. “And I think over time, people started to see not just my results, but my story.”

In his maturity, Djokovic has embraced a calmer outlook. He smiles more, speaks more openly, and seems less bothered by boos or bias. He knows he will never be everyone’s favorite. But he also knows that love isn’t always loud — and sometimes, respect is the deepest form of affection.

The Final Word

In tennis, numbers tell one story. But emotions tell another. Novak Djokovic may go down as the greatest statistical champion, but his story is as much about personal evolution as it is about professional triumph.

He is no longer the “3rd guy.” He is the man who refused to quit, refused to be defined by others, and ultimately carved a legacy as complex, controversial, and compelling as any in sports history.

And perhaps, in that complexity, lies the very reason why, finally, the world is beginning to understand Novak Djokovic — not just as a player, but as a man.