SOMETIMES, it seems, greatness is insufficient.

That is certainly one conclusion that can be drawn from Sunday’s Wimbledon final, which saw Novak Djokovic’s ninth Grand Slam title become little more than a postscript to tales of thwarted glory penned for Roger Federer.

Djokovic performed extraordinarily as he pummelled Federer into submission, confirming his position as the undisputed world number one in the process. He has now claimed three Wimbledon crowns, equal fourth in the Open era behind only Federer, Pete Sampras and Bjorn Borg, and given that he only turned 28 in May, there is a good chance he will go on to add the nine more Grand Slam titles he needs to move to the head of the all-time list.

But he is not Roger, and at Wimbledon at least, that continues to matter. He doesn’t possess his Swiss rival’s aesthetic perfection or balletic grace. He doesn’t float through matches in the way that Federer does, or stand unruffled on the service line with a calm insouciance that suggests he is operating on a completely different plane to all of his rivals.

I understand why Federer is so revered. His semi-final display against Andy Murray contained one of the most remarkable displays of shot-making ever witnessed on Centre Court, and given the standard he has reached in so many of his previous Wimbledon appearances, that really is saying something.

For more than a decade, Federer has dominated men’s tennis and transformed the sport into an art form. Even with his powers supposedly on the wane, and at an age when younger, more powerful rivals should really be trampling all over him, he remains a joy to observe. If he were to win one more Grand Slam title before retirement, it would be a fitting finale to an incredible career.

But acknowledging Federer’s exalted status should not detract from the admiration directed at Djokovic for removing arguably the greatest tennis player of all time from his throne.

Emerging at a time when Federer and Rafael Nadal appeared to have the world of men’s tennis in a stranglehold, Djokovic has eclipsed both. His contemporaries, most notably Murray and Stanislas Wawrinka, have battled gamely, plundering two Grand Slam titles apiece and sporadically threatening to haul themselves to the top of the world rankings.

But it is Djokovic who has risen to the top of the pile, boasting a lead at the top of the ranking list that will make him all but impossible to overhaul for the best part of 12 months no matter what he does in the remainder of the year.

He has always been a formidable competitor, with his boundless energy and unshakeable will to win forming a key part of his weaponry, but to focus on his attitude is to damn the Serb with faint praise.

Yes, his mentality is to chase down every ball and elevate every point to the utmost importance, but that would matter little if he wasn’t such a supremely gifted technician.

As Sunday’s performance proved, he boasts every shot in the book, and no matter what Federer threw at him in a four-set tussle that ultimately resulted in a reasonably comfortable margin of victory, Djokovic replied with an even more effective response.

His double-handed backhand is the best in the game, a formidable weapon that appears to be laser-guided towards the sidelines, while his forehand attack has improved markedly in the last couple of years, to the point where it can no longer be regarded as his weaker stroke.

He has never been the most powerful server on the Tour, but his accuracy is remarkable and on the few occasions when Federer threatened to break at the weekend, Djokovic invariably responded with a serve that sent the chalk dust rising.

Defensively, he is supreme, with only Murray coming close to matching his capabilities against even the most forceful of servers. It is the length and depth of his returns that causes most damage, enabling him to switch the focus of a rally in an instant and affording him the opportunity to dictate a point from the earliest stage of exchanges.

Add all of that to the previously-mentioned mental toughness and exemplary game management, and it is little wonder that former greats such as John McEnroe and Pat Cash are predicting that Djokovic will go on to rewrite the record books before he eventually retires.

In almost any other era, he would be revered as a truly special champion, yet on Sunday, as he strode forward to receive the Wimbledon trophy with the cheers directed at Federer still ringing in his ears, he must have felt like a gatecrasher at his own party.

He is the bad guy who has done nothing wrong; the winner that a majority of neutral observers tend to want to see lose.

Judging by the grace he displays whenever he is interviewed, the dichotomy doesn’t seem to bother him, but it is unfair nevertheless. Perhaps once Federer vacates the stage, his image will be afforded an overhaul, but in the meantime, Djokovic will continue amassing titles and trophies, respected rather than loved, admired instead of revered.

The same can be said of Serena Williams, although as previous columns have explained, there are other factors at work when it comes to a grudging refusal to shower too much love on a six-time Wimbledon champion who can surely now claim to be the greatest female player of all time.

Issues of femininity and race come to the fore when Williams is mentioned, a great shame when her excellence has enabled her to tower over her rivals for more than a decade and her success against truly remarkable odds should be a source of inspiration for youngsters all around the world.

Djokovic’s back story is not as evocative, but he too has risen from initially unpromising roots to emerge as a sporting great. Surely it is time to acknowledge as much without feeling the need to reflect on what he is not, rather than what he has become.