IT WAS NEVER IN DOUBT
Andy makes it look easy as family man commands and conquers
HE played as if it was his home; as if Centre Court was his back garden. This was an unseen Andy Murray, a settled Andy Murray. The family man, comfortable in familiar surrounds. He was in control from the start, in command all the way to that last forehand. There was only one winner. Watching him yesterday, so assured and confident, there was always going to be this winner.
Usually, he makes the nation wait. Typically, a Murray Slam is a case of delayed gratification. The small hours of the morning at the US Open in New York, the interminable conclusion to his first Wimbledon triumph. This was different. This was, if not easy, then at the very least secure.
Straight sets. Straight sets! 6-4, 7-6, 7-6. Centre Court could barely believe its eyes. Drink that in. Some did, and literally. Midway through the second set, a champagne cork popped to tinkling laughter, such was the confidence in a Murray victory. We are so used to tension, so familiar with the rattled nerves and
“He had a plan and executed it to perfection”
shredded fingernails that it seemed almost unreal to watch this procession. Murray went to two tie-breaks — the tennis equivalent of the penalty shoot-out — and won both forcefully (7-3, 7-2).
He’s damn good at tennis but to be this special, and also so cool under pressure is hardly a trait in British sport. Where was the unnecessary complication, the fear, the inevitable loss of focus and direction? Murray had a plan, contained in his kitbag and consulted regularly between games, and executed it to perfection.
He outplayed Milos Raonic in every facet of the game, including serving. Raonic is the fastest here, at one time reaching a speed of 147mph, the quickest delivery of the tournament. Incredibly, Murray returned that one, and claimed the point. Even more incredibly, he delivered just one ace less than his opponent. Raonic has been averaging seven aces per set throughout this Wimbledon. Yesterday, he made eight all match.
‘He’ll get more returns back than anybody else, you know that,’ said Raonic, acknowledging Murray’s greatest strength. It was the way he brushed aside his weaknesses, though, that set Murray apart yesterday. On so many occasions, we have seen Murray play well, but just short of the level reached by Novak Djokovic or Roger Federer.
Here, it was Murray in the superior role. There is a reason tennis has a big four, and it was made plain on Centre Court. Murray was a different class, in the same way Djokovic, Federer and Rafael Nadal have been, and still can be, on their best day.
He revelled in his status as the senior partner.
‘I think when I was out there at the tight moments, in the tiebreaks, knowing I’d been in that position before, knowing how maybe he (Raonic) would have felt at those moments it being his first Grand Slam final, I do think that helped me during the match,’ he said.
‘In the tiebreaks, he missed a few shots. To get that mini-break at the start of tiebreak is very big and he missed a very basic shot. I got a big lead after that.’
This was, in one way at least, Murray’s best day, his most accomplished victory. He may regard the breakthrough slam in New York as the most important, the first Wimbledon as the day the weight of history lifted from his shoulders, yet this is the one he will remember most clearly, the one he will luxuriate in, will have allowed to sink in and savour.
This was the victory of a mature champion, a new dad, a player at the top of his game, who has faced down challenges and is no longer intimidated by them. He said his first Wimbledon triumph was defined more by relief than pleasure. It also felt somehow less than his alone. It was for the country. The watching millions. Those who had turned up every year since Fred Perry, more in hope than expectation.
This one, he said, felt like his. It belonged to him, his family, his team. He didn’t mean offence. He was still grateful to every fan, but he was going to have fun with it. And he was going to remember.
‘It is different,’ said Murray. ‘I feel happier this time. I feel more content. This was more for myself, and my team. We’ve all worked really hard to get me in this position. Last time, it was just pure relief, and I didn’t really enjoy the moment as much. I’m going to make sure I enjoy this one more than the others.’
And if that sounds too cosy, do not think for one second that this was any less of an achievement, because Murray beat an upcoming Canadian, not Djokovic or Federer. This was a different challenge and new ground for Murray, too.
This was the first Grand Slam final he was expected to win, the first he went in to as favourite. If he lost, there was no free pass and nobody would sympathise as happens when he meets the unstoppable force of Djokovic.
Ah, poor Andy, what can he do? The other guy is just too good, just too strong. How unfortunate to be born in tennis’ golden age. Just imagine what he could have won, just imagine how great he could have been. Yet no excuses could have been made had he fallen short yesterday. And that carries its own pressure. What if Raonic served Murray off court? What if he blew him away over five sets, as he did
Federer in the semi-final? It crossed all of our minds. It didn’t seem to cross Murray’s.
From the beginning, he appeared calmer, Raonic on his toes and hopping about even during the coin toss, Murray the old head, centred and confident.
He stayed out a little longer after the practice period ended, hitting serves, made Raonic wait before taking his place to receive. The game unfolded to his rhythm and his direction; he bullied Raonic, the way Djokovic bullies opponents, dictating the play.
Not in a nasty way, not with gamesmanship necessarily, but by assuming the senior role. This was Raonic’s first Grand Slam final — it would have been a first win for a Canadian player in the Open era too — and it looked it. Murray, by contrast, was in charge.
Some of his returns drew gasps, certainly from those who kept one eye on the speed gun registering the serves. As Murray explained to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge — Wills and Kate, to some of you — it is not just the speed of Raonic’s serves, but where they arrive that causes the biggest problem. He gestured at a point between his chest and his throat.
Some of Murray’s most remarkable shots yesterday involved little more than getting the ball back in play. He was like a batsman fending off a fast bowler. His movement, his anticipation was nothing short of magnificent. At times, Raonic looked dumbfounded.
It would have been close to impossible for him to prepare for a match with Murray. Unless Raonic employs Djokovic as a practice partner, he will not be used to having certain shots returned. Raonic would play any other day of the week, would be a winner, only for it to come fizzing back across the net. He knew he had to play serve-volley too, but often that just gave Murray a target, which he loves.
He would aim at Raonic, or his feet, giving him an impossible pick-up. On other occasions, Raonic would arrive at the net in haste, his shape all wrong, and Murray would pick him off.
At the last, after two hours and 47 minutes, longer than the match felt, Raonic played a despairing backhand into the net and Murray’s weapon of choice, his tennis racket, fell to the floor. His body went into what seemed a spasm of delight, legs and arms jerking, punching and kicking at thin air. Then he settled in his chair at courtside, and cried.
In the players’ box, Ivan Lendl, his impassive coach, was crying, too. He would have been proud of his boy, and rightly so. He had made it look so easy, but it is never easy. He had made it look so comfortable, but it never is. And he had made us all take victory for granted, but we should never take Murray’s victory for granted: because he won’t.