Reading between the (press conference) lines is a sport, too

The press conference in sport can be death by cliche. It can commence with "So how do you feel?" queries after devastating losses. It can be trite, repetitious and Venus Williams-style monosyllabic.

- Rohit Brijnath

What can I say, I love them.

On Sunday in Shanghai a defeated Novak Djokovic was met with a first query on "positives". A bland but perfect start. Falling athletes need to hold on to hope. They're beaten yes, but useless never. Surely something worked in Shanghai?

"I played pretty good," Djokovic said, "which gives me reason to believe that I can still play with these guys that are best in the world." Jannik Sinner might be imperious but not uncatchable.

Djokovic is searching for signs, so are we. We sift through press conference transcripts looking for glimmers of insight. We examine athletes in front of microphones and wait for stone-faced masks to slip. Some snarl, protest against decisions, ignore idly provocative questions and occasionally walk out.

Pain of all sorts is put on show. Rafael Nadal once slid agonisingly from his press conference chair as his entire body cramped. The air can be rough with self-loathing and raw with vulnerability. At Sydney 2000, the awesome Hicham El Guerrouj, having lost a second successive Olympic 1,500m, put his face in his hands and wept.

Still, for some the press conference is an expired idea. No great truth is spoken here, it is argued, and no wise query posed. So then, shall we call it off and simply accept the perfectly curated, one-sided views that athletes post on Instagram?