People need to see the video of Serena Williams and Novak Djokovic dancing together after Wimbledon. It should be shown at schools, or at the end of particularly grim EastEnders episodes. During times of extreme global strife, the video should be beamed directly onto the surface of the moon. Because, no matter how hard you try, you will never see a more uplifting video so long as you live.
Why? Because it shows Williams and Djokovic wheeling around joyously, gleefully liberating themselves of the self-imposed pressure it takes to become best in the world at something? Because it shows that even fiercely goal-fixated superbeings are able to cut loose and have fun sometimes?
No. The video is life-affirming because Serena Williams and Novak Djokovic are rubbish at dancing. In fact, that doesn’t even do it justice. What they do barely even exists in the same galaxy as dancing. Here’s what happens: after they’ve both become Wimbledon champions, Williams and Djokovic find themselves onstage together. Night Fever by the Bee Gees is playing. The pair clasp hands and perform a jokey little victory dance. They stop, but the music doesn’t. So, foolishly, they start dancing again.
Except it’s not dancing. Not really. It’s the sort of self-conscious imitation of dance that people reluctantly perform at wedding receptions before they get drunk enough to really hammer out some moves. Serena opts for the dead-armed two-steps-forward-two-steps-back style beloved by elderly aunties, while Novak half-heartedly performs what can only be described as a satirical interpretive performance art piece inspired by peak-era John Travolta.
But the embarrassment is too much for him, so he quickly drops to his knees. The focus is now solely on Williams, who responds by awkwardly wobbling around and intermittently clapping her hands. He’s put this whole sorry saga on her shoulders.
Eventually, after the longest six seconds of anyone’s life, he realises the scale of his transgression, clambers to his feet and brings the whole ugly saga to a messy conclusion. It’s the sort of video you can only really watch with your fingers over your eyes and your fist in your mouth.
But it still needs to be watched, because it is beautiful. It’s a perfectly-timed reminder that these honed, hardbodied athletes, these intimidating reminders of humanity’s limitless potential, are regular people after all. For the smallest possible amount of time, they’re both plunged into terrifyingly unfamiliar territory. They’re raw and exposed, and the best they can hope for is damage control. For 24 wonderful seconds, they’re just like us. They’re us, pulling on a push-door in full sight of our employers. They’re us, asked to improvise a speech on a subject we know nothing about, or tripping up on a cobble in front of a girl we fancy, or accidentally calling our year nine science teacher ‘Mum’.
Being forced to dance in front of people after a historic sporting victory is the perfect way to ground someone. After seeing the charming hash that Williams and Djokovic made of it, this sort of ego control should really become mandatory after any important accomplishment. Won Wimbledon? Dance. Crowned as King of England? Assemble a Billy bookcase for me. Cured cancer? Great, now ride this unicycle up a wet hill in your pants.
Forget tennis, this video was the real victory of the weekend. It’s proof that nobody is good at everything. It’s proof that, no matter how red our cape, we’re all still Clark Kent inside. It’s proof that, if he had any sense whatsoever, Andy Murray deliberately threw the semi-final to avoid all of this. Serena, Novak, welcome to the human race.
Source: http://www.theguardian.com
