KEITH JACKSON AT SW19:
ENGLAND LOSE THEIR ED
For a while yesterday evening, here in the beating heart of England, it felt as if there was nothing that wouldn’t be coming home this summer.
As it turns out the tennis will be staying away for another year. Most probably somewhere in Switzerland, Spain or Serbia.
Pumped full of adrenaline after watching his team take one step closer to history in Russia, Kyle Edmund walked out on Centre Court and looked as if he was about to bludgeon Novak Djokovic all the way back to Heathrow Airport.
But just when the stage seemed set for Edmund to claim Andy Murray’s crown as the prince of SW19 and provide England with even more cause to indulge, a bristling Djokovic rediscovered his old fire and started breathing it all over the flag of St George.
The No.12 seed fought back from one set down to burn through Edmund’s hopes of making it into the second week, winning in four sets 4- 6, 6-3, 6-2, 6- 4.
Djokovic even blew kisses to the patriotic Centre Court crowd as he revelled in the role as the merciless master of Edmund’s demise.
Edmund had got through the f irst two rounds without dropping a set. But for an hour or so yesterday this all seemed very different. It felt like his Wimbledon awakening. The moment he truly arrived at this tournament and plugged himself into the electrics.
Even in defeat it may well prove to be the making of him because this was a different Edmund. Ful l of energ y, effervescence and exuberance.
Everything that he tends not to be usually. He fought valiantly too all the way to a stormy end.
But the win England wanted was beyond his reach.
The plan was to leave Edmund’s match until last in the hope England’s fate would already be decided in Samara.
It worked like clockwork even if the old guard of the Al l England Club really have got themselves into an extraordinary pickle over this whole World Cup caper.
Their steadfast refusal to even acknowledge anything is going on outside the gates is the first problem.
Once again yesterday football was banned from the screens around SW19 in everywhere but the media centre.
And, at quarter to two on the dot, a fleet of staff were deployed to pull down the blinds so that fans could not sneak a peak in from the walkways outside.
‘ They’re here to watch tennis not football’ is the bloody minded approach the top brass here are sticking to.
But this arrogance leaves them so out of touch it makes Marie- Antoinette look like Jeremy Corbyn by comparison.
And all of it was made even more absurd by the presence o f Bobby Charlton in the Royal Box. Think about that for a minute.
One of the only English players ever to get his hands on the World Cup was in the only place in England where they wouldn’t let him watch it.
Then, just to make things even more awkward, Rafa Nadal refused to stick to the script.
Rather than spin his third round tie out, Majorca’s raging bull chased Aussie teenager De Minaur off court in straight sets, taking little more than two hours in the process.
He was headed for the locker room before Harry Maguire had headed England on their way. By the time Dele Alli had bagged the second, Angelique Kerber was well on her way to a straight-sets win over Naomi Osak, the German converting match point just as the Three Lions were going into the last minute of injury time.
Everything was going like clockwork. Now all Edmund had to do was take care of Djokovic. A great deal easier said than done.
“It’s coming home Kyle!” some bloke shouted from the stand moments after Edmund had walked on to court to begin his knock-up.
If he was talking about the tennis then Djokovic had other ideas.
Edmund saved break points in his opening game and when he blasted back with a flurry of ferocious forehands to get himself out of trouble, the excitement levels soared.
Here he was trading blows with Djokovic on the greatest court of them all and with each blisteringly delivered success he seemed to grow in stature.
Suddenly, winners were flying off the face of his racquet and no one looked more surprised or startled by this than Djokovic.
In the sixth game he was dumped on the seat of his pants as Edmund walloped another one of them down court to earn a first break point.
The Serb saved it. Then fought off another two.
But Edmund’s breakthrough came at the fourth attempt after outmanoeuvring the great man during an exchange of volleys at the net.
Edmund had his man rattled here. And soon he took the opening set off him. Djokovic
looked exasperated by it all. It seemed every time he posed a question, Edmund was able to come up with an answer.
But the British ace’s nerve wobbled for the very first time when, under sustained pressure, he threw in a double fault to hand Djokovic a 5-3 lead. Moments later it was one set each.
When Djokov ic broke through again, taking the first game of the third, he let out a roar so almighty it almost took the white boater off Sir Bobby’s head in the posh seats directly above. Another break followed in the seventh game as Djokovic made sure of the set.
Edmund was in danger of retreating back into his shell now but he bravely re-engaged with the battle in the fourth set.
He was spared by an astonishing series of bad calls when in the seventh game he managed to save a break point despite the ball bouncing twice in his court, throwing his racquet at it then into the net. And the resultant shot landed on the wrong side of the lines.
Somehow he was awarded a point Djokovic should have won four times.
This did little to improve Djokovic’s outlook but he regrouped and the decisive breakthrough came two games later when England’s luck finally ran out.