Edmund starts to emerge from the shadows
Australian Open semi-final in January, Edmund’s rise up the rankings has been so surreptitious, so resolutely under the radar, that few around the All England Club grounds would readily have identified him as the 22nd seed.
“Henman Hill” is not about to be rechristened “Edmund Escarpment” any time soon. Where Laura Robson’s surge to the fourth round in 2013 galvanised acute national interest, and where Heather Watson’s see-sawing three-setter with Serena Williams in 2015 became Friday-night box office, Edmund occupies an ambivalent space in the country’s affections. Is it because of his natural self-effacement? Is it because he has relocated to the tax haven of the Bahamas? Or is it because the British public, who have gorged so eagerly on Murray’s glories this past decade, refuse to accept him as a legitimate heir?
Inescapably, Edmund suffers by comparison to his immediate forebears. At his age, 23, Murray was already the world’s fourth-best player, having reached his first final in Melbourne. Even Tim Henman was fractionally ahead of him on the curve, as an established top-20 presence.
Edmund, though, appears content to plot his own path, unencumbered by the baggage of his inheritance. Regarding his public profile with supreme indifference, he said: “It’s not like I’m a big deal or anything, but there are a few more autographs and selfies now. I know how important it is to take the time. If I went to a Liverpool match, I’d have my picture taken with one of the players, too.”
Wherever he goes, Edmund cannot escape the juxtapositions with Murray. They even have adjacent spots in the Wimbledon locker room, despite different levels of status, with the two-time champion a permanent member of the club and the pretender to his throne only a temporary one. The relationship, though, has only ever been cordial, even if Edmund had the temerity to vanquish his elder in Eastbourne last week.
Not only was Edmund among those invited to Murray’s wedding, he was also brought over to several of the Scot’s training camps in Miami in recognition of his commitment to his craft.
As befitting one who has taken boxing classes to refine his footwork, Edmund has morphed into a fearsome physical specimen, capable of subduing his adversaries by brute force alone. So it proved in facing Bolt, who was so powerless to resist the bombardment that he looked to his box and threw out his arms to ask: “What do I do now?”
Edmund trusted here in his most effective weapons, cranking up his Exocet of a first serve to 131mph and running around his backhand to lasso forehand winners into the corners. With such gifts to call upon, he could soon relegate his feeble recent results at Wimbledon to the margins of history.
“There’s no reason I cannot prosper,” he said. “That’s how I’ve tried to view my whole year. I know I have a good game and I try to believe in it.”
Even the most fleeting of thirdset wobbles at 4-2 down was swiftly controlled, as he wrapped it up 7-5 and returned to watching more of his beloved football. Far sterner examinations await, but so far Edmund is displaying a poise that can only be described as Murray-esque.