Murray a TV smash hit as he plays Eric to Henman’s Ernie
Didn’t he do well? There was some surprise along the chicken-coop rows of the tennis meeja at Andy Murray’s accomplished, amusing debut as a TV pundit but not where the Diary sits. Beneath that harled-wall exterior – and the Diary had to explain harling to its English counterparts – there’s an amused and amusing fellow.
All Muzza needed was someone to be the butt of his jokes and Tim Henman was happy to play Ernie Wise.
Murray, pictured inset, also had the good sense to wait until the second week of Wimbledon before
making his appearance. Clive James, the doyen of TV critics, always liked to point out in his witty coverage of the tournament how quickly Brit hopefuls such as Mark Cox would move from court to commentary-box, their campaigns over for another summer.
The funny thing is that James turned up at The Observer in 1972 in the wake of total Australian domination of the men’s singles – five triumphs in a row, seven all-aussie finals since 1960 – and the jolly swagman must
have thought the onslaught was going to continue. It didn’t. Ken Rosewall was thrashed by Jimmy Connors and then James’ countrymen disappeared from view. So he wrote about the incidental comedy of Wimbledon (the Harry Carpenter Rain Commentary, how the redoubtable anchorman “filled” when there was no play to describe) and his incidental lust (Gabriela Sabatini mostly).
You can’t get away with that sort of thing now. Women’s semi-finalist Julia Goerges was described as
“Julia Gorgeous” on these pages yesterday but the tribute came from a fan. Not that the Diary is saying she isn’t. It’s a minefield, this #metoo business. Surely a compliment is okay. It’s better than a backhanded compliment. And what about backhand compliments - can we still issue them?
Jelena Ostapenko, who’s also through to the semi-finals, has revealed that ballroom dancing helps her tennis.
The first Latvian to make the last four, she was a keen dancer from
the age of five to 12 then gave it up, but has returned to the rumba and the foxtrot to aid her coordination. “Also those small steps, which are very useful in tennis,” she said.
Sadly Latvia’s version of Strictly Come Dancing, Dejo ar Zvaigzni!, seems to have failed to capture viewers’ imaginations as it’s been off air since 2015. But since its winners included Latvia’s regular contender for World’s Strongest Man, the Diary wonders about the standard and how exacting it was. Laughing at the idea of men with 26ins necks and 36ins thighs dancing?
The Diary hopes we’re still allowed to do that.
Men’s quarter-finals day is often an overflowing punnet of plump strawberries – which match to pick? Big-serving John Isner vs human steamhammer Milos Raonic didn’t sound like the aesthete’s choice – a Deep Purple/ Black Sabbath battle of the heavymetal powerchords, more like. But with the prospect of it clashing with a certain football match in Russia, Scottish tennis correspondents were sorely tempted.