Despite a bright start on day one, there is only tempered confidence among fans and experts that Andy Murray can resist either the internal pressure of his troublesome hip, or that imposed on the court by a gathering list of contenders, with sufficient conviction to claim a third Wimbledon title. There is merit in the view, but also a central flaw.
First the argument for pessimism: as has been detailed like notes from a crime sheet, Murray has not been anywhere near as good this year as he was in 2016, when he charged at Novak Djokovic with the energy of a marauding bull in the second half of the season, taking away the Serb’s No1 world ranking and invincible aura.
So mirror-like has been the switch, that world No4 Djokovic – hitherto regarded as spent and on the verge of tumbling further down the rankings – on Monday found favour with some bookmakers as the new favourite here, based purely on winning the Eastbourne title at the weekend against a field he would normally account for in the first week of a slam, with Murray drifting into the distance.
Once at the top of the tennis mountain, Murray was always going to be exposed to increased scrutiny of his credentials by those who question his right to be regarded as an equal member of the Big Four, and he had the wretched luck to be struck down by serial ill-health, spread out over the first six months of the year like a bad episode of Midsomer Murders.
Having seen off shingles, flu, a strained elbow and who knows what else, he landed up at his favourite patch of green aching again – this time in his hip. He could not train. He bore a downcast mien. But, as in every crisis in his career, he did not seek refuge in quitting.
So, when the defending champion creaked on to Centre Court on Monday to open the defence of his title against an impudent young comedian called Alexander Bublik, there was an unexpected hush. How he answered those silent doubters.
Over an hour and 44 minutes, Murray drowned out the eccentricities of the world No135 (Bublik had slipped a further spot overnight) with his own unique magic, answering drop-shots with lobs, thunderous serves with wicked cross-court returns, relentlessly chipping and lobbing the 20-year-old Russian defector (to Kazakhstan) and emerging with a perfectly respectable 6-1, 6-4, 6-2 result.
It could hardly have gone more seamlessly. The world No1 absorbed 15 aces and 31 unreturnable serves – most of them rifled at more than 130mph. He also smiled wryly at the dozen double faults his impetuous dance partner added to his log. It was this indiscipline and over-excitement that contributed to Bublik’s reduced potency, and which made his opponent’s task all the easier.
That said, Murray did what he had to. His own serve was sound, although he would have liked to land a few more than 43 of 74 at the first attempt, but he was strong on second serve – where so many matches are won and lost – winning 74%. Bublik had six chances to break but could not take any of them. Murray was a rock again, albeit one on a spindle.
Asked later why he appeared to be walking between points as if in pain, he raised an eyebrow in the manner of an accountant being questioned about his book-keeping. Murray reckoned the walk – which resembled someone dragging an invisible bag of cement behind them – may have been subconscious.
“I’ve always done it,” he said, “and everyone is saying that I’m walking that way because of my hip. But I have no idea.” Indeed, he has never had the gait of a guardsman and can give the appearance of traipsing around the court as if looking for his keys, but there was a discernible mini-limp nonetheless.
Whatever his walk, Murray walked it. He talked the talk, too, with young Bublik during a rain break at the start of the third set. They joked about the young player’s mounting number of double faults and what it was like to play on Centre Court – “stuff like that”, Murray said – before both men got back to business.
Murray was never in danger here, except from the pens and keyboards of non-believers, although that has never bothered him. If anything, it amuses him. It was tough to find a critic who did not write him off at the start of this year’s French Open. He was sniffling and moping, did not train for two days – and reached the semi-finals.
That brings us back to the central flaw: Murray is at his most dangerous when he appears most vulnerable. Stirred to react, he delights in proving people wrong, and the best way he knows how is in wielding his tennis racket. He did it pretty well on day one. On Wednesday, he will face another of the game’s mavericks, Dustin Brown, who defeated Portugal’s João Sousa.
Murray and Brown are good friends and communicate regularly. Perhaps Murray and Bublik will remain close, occasionally chatting about this and that, double faults and Centre Court. Murray meets them all the same on the day, as enemies to be dealt with.
