Dubai While the annual outbreak of Murray Mania in the UK may have dissipated following the end of Wimbledon, the question of whether Britain’s best tennis player will ever win a Grand Slam will continue to arouse frenzied debate.
It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that Murray is the best player never to win one of the four tennis majors.
His painful, yet heroic, defeat to Roger Federer at Wimbledon last Sunday was his fourth straight Grand Slam final loss, following failures at the US Open in 2008 and the Australian Open in 2010 and 2011.
And when you’re playing in a golden age of tennis alongside the titanic triumvirate of Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic, Murray clearly faces a mountainous challenge to realise his ambition.
So, what must the embattled Briton do to reach tennis nirvana?
In terms of technique, ability and tactics, very little, it’s evident, in view of the way he outplayed the imperious Federer for a set and a half last Sunday.
In the main, under the shrewd guidance of coach Ivan Lendl, Murray has addressed a tacit unwillingness to land the killer blow in rallies.
Out-rallied Federer
He out-rallied the great Federer on several occasions in the early stages of an epic contest, and was also impressively judicious about when to be aggressive. His second serve, another famed weakness in the past, has also noticeably improved in recent times, helping him stave off a glut of break points during the final.
The Scot has also worked tirelessly to improve his fitness, one of his great shortcomings in the past due to growing pains as a junior and having to deal with being born with a bipartite patella (split kneecap).
Memories of him spectacularly running out of steam — think back to 2005, his debut Wimbledon, and how he foundered physically when two sets up on the 2002 finalist at SW19, David Nalbandian, to whom he lost the next three sets — have long been banished.
Yet while physically and technically he can compete with the exalted trio ruling the roost in men’s tennis currently, it is in the psychological department that he still lags behind.
The way he surrendered his advantage to Federer last Sunday, and to Rafael Nadal in the Wimbledon semi-final in 2011 after leading by a set, is the perfect distillation of the undoubted greatest deficiency in his make-up: mental fragility at crucial moments.
Fatal change in demeanour
Once Federer levelled matters by taking the second set in last week’s Wimbledon final, there was a discernible and fatal change in Murray’s demeanour.
The Swiss maestro was calmness personified when he dropped the first set. Murray, on the other hand, on being confronted with similar adversity when Federer made it one set all and then started to gain the upper hand, began to betray signs that he was failing to cope with the overwhelming tension and pressure of the occasion. His shoulders slumped, he became increasingly irritated and careworn, while his gait was even more lumbering than usual. In short, he inexorably resembled a beaten man.
The former legendary former American football coach, Vince Lombardi, commented thus on the essential ingredient of mental strength in the recipe for sporting success: “Life’s battles don’t always go to the stronger or faster man. But sooner or later the man who wins is the man who thinks he can.”
Believe
Whether Murray thinks he truly can overcome the illustrious trio at the top of the tennis tree is debatable. And if he does not believe in himself, he will be doomed to perpetual Grand Slam failure.
Yet, while Murray often comes second best in bouts of psychological warfare at the worst possible moments on the Grand Slam stage, it must also be stressed that the world No 4 four has made significant strides in improving his mental approach.
For proof of this, one only needs to recall the even more miserable Murray of a few years ago, a study in self-flagellation and inner torment when the going got tough. In his younger days, he had a habit of pounding his fist on his racket when he committed errors, to that extent that his bloodied hand looked as if he has been in a fight and not a tennis match.
He once admitted: “One of the reasons I get annoyed is that I am a perfectionist. I get annoyed when I play bad shots or make stupid mistakes.”
Even more unedifying, though, were the verbal volleys of abuse which he used to hurl at his entourage, a self-defeating habit which wasted precious energy and helped galvanise his opponent.
On-court deportment
However, it is noticeable that, with the reassuring ballast of the great Lendl in his corner as coach, the Scot has greatly improved his on-court deportment as he bids to stop being the architect of his own downfall.
It also must be taken into account that the levels of pressure and expectation facing Murray, particularly during Wimbledon fortnight, are singular and stratospheric. And that’s without taking into consideration the luminous quality of opponents such as Federer et al.
Indeed, John McEnroe admitted during an interview with Rod Laver for the BBC last week that he had never had to cope with the same unique stresses and strains as Murray does for two weeks in London every summer when he shoulders the hefty burden of being Britain’s sole hope of success.
Surliness
To make matters worse for Murray, he has also had to deal with a cannonade of criticism in the UK about his surliness and perceived anti-Englishness following a flippant comment he made about supporting whichever team was playing England at the 2006 World Cup.
Yet his highly emotional interview after last week’s final and the stirring way in which he played for much of the match have gone a long way to helping him win the hearts of the British public.
Murray has never been loved unreservedly by the British tennis fraternity like Tim Henman, the quintessential middle-class hero. And, while the single-minded 25-year-old prefers to focus on his tennis rather than cultivate a cherished public persona, knowing he is regarded with suspicion and scorn in some parts of his homeland must be a source of some disquiet.
Now all he has to do is conquer his mental demons when the chips are down, and surely his long wait for a Grand Slam trophy will be over.
The obvious way to try and achieve this would be to hire a sports psychologist.
Sports psychologist
But that is a well-trodden path Murray does not want to go down, it seems, in light of his comments last year.
He said: “I used sports psychologists when I was younger and all of them used to say the same thing. Sometimes you need something different for the situation. You can’t always just say: “Breathe, count to ten.” I find it more beneficial talking to people who have played a sport at the top level.”
Perhaps, then, the solution to Murray’s conundrum lies with Lendl, a man who knows exactly what his charge feels given that he, too, lost the first four Grand Slam finals he contested.
Indeed, the Scot could learn much about emotional detachment from the inscrutable Czech, who remained conspicuously impassive throughout the final while those around him whooped, hollered and, at the end, wept buckets of tears.
Lendl's initial barren run
A torrent of eight Grand slam trophies followed for Lendl after his initial barren run, which should serve as a huge spur and great encouragement for Murray.
Just one of tennis’ crown jewels would be a significant and deserved achievement for the plucky Scot in an age of unparalleled excellence for his sport.
If he needs any reassurance about whether it is possible for him to transform himself from petulant perfectionist into a cool and composed winner, his opponent last weekend is a shining example of how it can be done.
Federer was renowned, by his own admission, for explosions of rage and tantrums when things did not go his way when he was younger.
Now he just wins a lot with icy aplomb.
