Australian Open: Andy Murray was never meant to grow old gracefully – he was born to fight

Play tennis. That is what he was born to do. And that is what he should keep doing, until the last drop has been drained from the enormous barrel of reserve inside, until the last bead of sweat has trickled down his nose, the last groan uttered, the last curse directed towards some poor soul in his box.

Take a good look, for there will never be another. Not like this. Not like him. Britain may one day produce a finer tennis player, but there will never be another Murray because what he brings to the court transcends mere athletic excellence. The 35-year-old is a wonderful player, with arguably the best defensive game of this era, yet he is also more than that. Good tennis alone would not have taken him to the third round of the Australian Open.

There are a lot of fine players around, not least Thanasi Kokkinakis. Yet what Murray has displayed across more than ten hours of fierce competition this week is heart and character on a quite epic scale; a determination and resilience that left his second-round opponent as bent out of shape as the racket he destroyed after losing a point that was almost comical in its narrative.

It came in the third set. Kokkinakis would have anticipated it being the last of the night, having won the first two. It was already late in Melbourne, gone 1am, but he was 2-0 up in games and just needed to close out. Murray got to advantage, but the Australian was all over him, a smash for deuce, which Murray got back, and then another, returned, and another, and again Murray scrambled, hitting high, staying in the point, waiting in restless desperation for the mistake. After four overheads, it came. Kokkinakis hit a forehand into the net. Already angered by a time violation he took his fury out on his racket, beating it to a contorted mess in the middle of the court. It formed the perfect image of the contest: Murray hobbling back to his seat, an old man, but suddenly alive, shouting to the crowd to make more noise; in the foreground his younger opponent, carrying his misshapen totem, a representation of his confused emotions. It must be like playing a creature from a George Romero film. That guy was dead. So why won’t he die? What is happening here? What madness is this?

In the previous round, Murray had enjoyed an audience of his peers. Novak Djokovic stopped going about his business to watch the Scot’s five-set, near-five-hour defeat of the 13th seed, Matteo Berrettini. No celebrity gawpers this time. It was after 4am when the match ended, at five hours and 45 minutes, the longest of Murray’s career by 38 minutes, played with a metal hip.

And that’s why he was right, and everyone else was wrong. He knew what made him happy. And that was playing tennis. Not doubles tennis, not exhibition tennis, not coaching tennis, not drawing up tennis blueprints. He wanted to play just as he had always done and be competitive against men ten years his junior. So while to us it looked as if he was in agony, inside he was always ecstatic. And while we may think it is killing the former world No 1 to have to fight for five sets twice, just to make it to the last 32, this is now his triumph, his alternative grand-slam.

And there will be those who will say it is only the second round, and reel off the numbers of more gifted contemporaries as though that is relevant on a day like this. Yet waiting for Murray to reach a final at his age and in his circumstances is like withholding praise for Sheffield Wednesday, third-round conquerors of Newcastle United, until they hold the FA Cup aloft at Wembley.

Don’t you see? This wasn’t meant to happen. Murray was supposed to be playing doubles with Jamie or sitting in a studio next to John McEnroe. He was meant to be an ambassador for British tennis, or shaping the future at the LTA. What he wasn’t meant to be doing is playing for five hours and 45 minutes, as the sun prepared to rise on Melbourne. Yet that makes him happy. Us too. The greatest British sportsman? Undoubtedly. Long may he reign.

-The Times

Originally published as Australian Open: Andy Murray was never meant to grow old gracefully – he was born to fight