Throughout the proposed sarcasm, ball-bouncing, hits with Johnny Mac, and arch in his serve, Novak Djokovic has chalked up a pretty good tennis resume up until this point.

Capturing 17 career singles titles which includes his maiden Slam victory in Australia in 2008, Djokovic remains a threat to win any tournament he enters.

However, foiled within the young Serb's success lies the constant anxiety that Djokovic plays under; through the emotional rollercoaster that has allowed him to gain a legion of fans throughout the years, and finally, after waiting nearly three seasons to move out of the No. 3 spot to his current rank of No. 2.

Will the 23-year-old be able to sustain his current form amongst the giants of the sport?

I have my doubts to be honest, and it has nothing to do with Djokovic's ability to hit a drop shot or save a break point. The Belgrade native was simply sensational last week in Dubai, defending the first title of his career after winning three, three-set matches in a row.

Djokovic's level of play wasn't particularly the highest we've seen from him, but his ability to fight and persevere through the heat of the desert, and a slew of hungry competitors proved that his mettle was in check, irrespective of his ball-striking ability.

My concerns for the Serb simply stems from his overuse of emotion on court. Unlike Rafael Nadal, who uses his volumed fist pumps and leg hikes to spur on his sonic forehand, Djokovic's constant yells and looks of dismay to his players' box seem to take its toll on him during the bigger tournaments. It appears that the exertion of Djokovic's emotions has also increased with his improved status.

I remember covering a tournament in 2005 at the Paris Masters 1000 against Djokovic and French Open runner-up Mariano Puerta.

Puerta was at the time the N0. 9 ranked player in the world, while Djokovic occupied a respective position at No. 85. Puerta had also come off his best season to date, which would later end with a career rattling suspension because of a performance enhancing drug. Nevertheless, Puerta was a formidable player, and he knew exactly what he was looking at when he lost to Djokovic in straight sets.

After going down 6-3, 7-6(9) to the Serb, Puerta told the media that: "He's a future champion. His poise and calmness on-court, along with his shots will take him to the top."

Going through the archives of post-match press conferences, (which takes up a brilliant amount of my time) I have only heard one other player in recent memory (Nadal telling reporters that he believed Kei Nishikori would be a top three player one day, after defeating the Japanese youngster at Queens Club event in 2008) receive the type of accolades that Puerta gave to Djokovic in Paris.

So far so good for Puerta's prediction, and if not for a knee injury to Nishikori, the 20-year-old could have potentially made Nadal add his prognosticator views to his long list of off-court ability.

If we look closer into Puerta's comments about a younger Djokovic being "calm" and "poised", can we honestly say that those characteristics embody the current world No. 2?

Through his loss to Jo-Wilfried Tsonga at the Australian Open this year, to his out-of-gas performance against Roger Federer at the US Open last fall, will Djokovic be able to consistently put it all together when he needs to in a best of five format?

I'm not disputing Djokovic's ability to supplant Federer at the No. 1 spot (I actually picked Djokovic to end the year No. 2 with the chance of overtaking the No. 1 spot at some point)—my concern for Djokovic resides more around his ability to win multiple Majors and put a stamp on the top spot similar to Federer, or even Nadal.

Can Djokovic in essence do the top spot proud?

It just seems to me that Djokovic would be better served if he would allow for a more independent approach to the Grand Slam events, as opposed to the constant dialogue he constructs with his players' box and ultimately himself.

Historically, the greatest champions of the sport, Federer, Pete Sampras, Bjorn Borg and Rod Laver have all approached tennis matches—regardless of their magnitude—with more of an introverted silence when competing. They all showed emotion from time to time, but it was based more around a mechanism of momentary uplifting, and not three hours of attempting to ask for approval from outside the lines.

I understand that creating a vortex of calmness and independence in the men's game is far from easy; if anything, that's why every player doesn't win over 10 Majors, or if they're lucky even five.

But a player of Djokovic's caliber certainly has the wherewithal and physical gifts to post significant numbers—it will inevitably come down to his emotional management in the end.

It seems, anyway, that Djokovic has a lot more to think about now that he's acquired a taste for second.