Murray wins in Fergie time

his insight, as well as his tenacity and resilience under pressure.
Quite probably, he would have preferred to be proven wrong on his appraisal of Fernando Verdasco, though.
The predicted stroll in the park would have saved him a lot of time, energy and torment; the rest of us, too.

This was a return to the Murray of old, the young man who would put his fans through the shredder, teetering on the brink of elimination, hearts in mouths, sinews stretching, as he fought to stay in the game, the set, the match, the tournament.
The difference is that, here, he came through.

That might not have been the case a few years ago. Murray was fragile, physically and mentally, back then.
Now he is robust, he found a path to the semi-final despite a very poor second set, full of unfathomable errors and failures of conviction.
Somehow, he rallied to win the third set 6-1 and scrapped for his life after that to leave Centre Court in rapture, victorious.

This was no foregone conclusion, though. The fourth set was won 6-4, the final set 7-5. It was tight, it was tense. At all times, Verdasco threatened to unleash mayhem.
His forehands were explosive, his second serves contained the venom of the first.
‘He aimed for the lines, never for the centre,’ Murray marvelled. ‘He took a lot of risks.’

And in doing so, he dragged Murray to the limit.
Verdasco delivered some of the most courageous attacking play Centre Court has seen this summer, and Murray rightly bristled when asked if his coach Ivan Lendl would give him a dressing down before tomorrow’s semi-final.

His game was far from perfect, and he acknowledged that, but there is much to be said for hanging in there, too.
Murray usually welcomes the stresses of Wimbledon, but this year is not quite the same.
There is a massive difference in carrying the hopes of a nation, and carrying expectation.

With Murray perceived to have an easy draw with Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal already out, it is as if Britain has already mentally shifted to a Sunday final with Novak Djokovic, and anything less would be unthinkable.

There will be greater disappointment if he fails to make that date now, than at any time in his career.
No wonder he seemed to get a little tight at times. He conceded the first set with a double fault. When was the last time we saw such flakiness from him?
The key was finding a way back into the game, and, two sets down, Murray played two hours of incredibly gutsy tennis against an opponent who has rarely performed better.
Verdasco is dangerous, yes. Murray warned of that.

Yet, despite this prescience, even he appeared a little rattled by the ferocious confidence of a player ranked only ninth in his own country.
The depth of Spain’s talent pool is common knowledge, too — yet to see Verdasco peppering the court with such savagery brought it home in a way no set of statistics ever can.

Murray was made to offer up every last gasp of breath as he chased along the baseline, trying to stay involved in thunderously powerful rallies.
Verdasco’s serve set the agenda, his forehand kept it on-message. It is to Murray’s immense credit that he survived — there is no other word for it — to ultimately wear down Verdasco, with the raucous crowd playing its part in undermining his opponent, who at times complained of the noise.

It became a very different atmosphere, as those who arrived late believing they would be witnessing a procession realised they instead possessed ringside seats for a gladiatorial fight to the death.

This was one of the rare occasions when spontaneous roars of encouragement have been heard during a Centre Court rally as, in the seventh game of the fourth set, Murray’s supporters became lost in the moment.

He had saved two break points with Verdasco already leading 3-2 and two sets to one.
The crowd were delirious, choosing their sides midway through the rally, which Murray won to Verdasco’s obvious irritation.
Having levelled the scores at 3-3, Murray broke Verdasco with a lovely passing shot in the next game, yet still his work was not done.
He won the final, decisive, set but only after trailing 4-3 and 0-30 on his serve.

The bookmakers never had him odds against, even when two sets down, but few in the arena could be as confident.
They could see the mph numbers racking up on Verdasco’s second serve, see the damage it was doing, sense Murray’s frustration at working so hard
He cursed at himself, he looked to the sky, he gave a hard stare to a line judge shifting in his chair.

At times he played like a man with issues: the main one being an opponent who was refusing to conform to public expectation.
The effort Murray needed to make his date with Jerzy Janowicz of Poland was increasingly plain. He dived full length at the net to win a point in the second game of the final set, he chased down every point.

When, after a long baseline rally, Verdasco finally planted one into the net for a fifth-set break of serve, the chants of “Andy, Andy” that rang around the court acknowledged the intensity of his commitment.

A lesser player would not have come through against Verdasco on Wednesday — Murray would not, in his callow youth.
What this most resembled was one of those matches that Manchester United sometimes played, when they would be outgunned, yet somehow found a way back to win the game.

It was fitting then, that Murray’s celebrity fan, Sir Alex Ferguson, was a guest in the Royal Box, seemingly living every point with his friend, jumping to his feet and punching the air when it became obvious the match was going to be his.

Ferguson knows all about those moments when resolution needs to be at its greatest and the effect highly pressured circumstances can have on an athlete.
This wasn’t Murray’s Nou Camp, but it was certainly up there with the time United trailed Tottenham Hotspur 3-0 at half-time, and came back to win 5-3.
It needs the will of a champion to blast through on such occasions.

Tennis, bloody hell. – Mailonline.