The nomenclature of the Big Four in men’s tennis does not hold much relevance these days. Two of the quartet, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal have dropped down in the rankings. The third, Novak Djokovic is currently struggling to answer questions that were not in the picture a year ago. Andy Murray, the last player in this ubiquitous group, meanwhile has carried on unaffected by the turmoil hindering his rivals.
Not only that, he is also making the most of these unexpected developments to thrust his career further upwards. He is getting closer to demoting Djokovic and promoting himself as the world’s best player.
Discovering the champion within
A few years ago, envisioning this was difficult. Murray was pegged to be a Grand Slam champion, a Wimbledon champion, but he was not in the reckoning to be the World No. 1. This premise gained traction watching him grow, since he made his mark for the first time in the sport’s biggest stage, as in, the majors. In observing his growth, the latter perspective too came to be sharpened, with each passing performance.
Murray enjoyed his first deep run in the majors, at the 2008 US Open, when he reached the final. He lost the final to Federer in straight sets. The way Federer dominated him from start-to-finish was, however, attributed to two factors. One, that Murray was overawed by the atmosphere, or having to play in the final of such a high-stature event. The other was that Federer, who had not won a single Slam that year, was keen to keep himself in the tennis picture that had come to be dominated solely by Nadal.
The defeat, though, started a pattern for Murray. Following his US Open final, he broke into the top-four of the men’s singles rankings for the first time in his career. He did – and has – kept himself steady inside that bracket, except for a short while in 2014. In parallel, he also lost every major final he reached for the next four years: by losing his focus mid-match and then going into frustrated monologues that aggravated his sliding performances.
The Lendl effect
It was not until he engaged Ivan Lendl, midway through the 2012 season, that the Scotsman was able to shrug aside these distractions. Under the eight-time former Grand Slam champion’s mentoring, Murray won the 2012 US Open and 2013 Wimbledon, the latter ending Britain's 77-year quest of having a home player win the covetous title. But once his partnership with Lendl terminated in 2014, he reverted back to his early days. Oscillations between his dispassion and his compromised vulnerabilities re-emerged all over again. They have continued to make appearances this year too, even after he re-joined forces with Lendl to win his second Wimbledon title.
However, amid all these problematic outcroppings, there has been one area where the three-time major winner has been unmatched. Despite all his on-court tetchiness and inconsistencies, Murray has never lacked the finesse of capitalising on opportunities whenever they have come his way. The subtlety with which he does so is enforcing. It is also somewhat paradoxical.
That he, a player whose on-court attitude is transitional from one hour to the other, has convincingly separated himself from the melee of problems surrounding him. Yet, it is this oddity that gives Murray his distinct identity among his peers. Of being a player, who can be counted on to do well when the situation is the most misaligned. This aspect, in turn, has come about because of the way he has to find his niche in the tennis world, circling around comparisons.
Shaking off the comparisons
Whether he wanted them or not, and whether he accepted them or not, Murray’s career has been a pockmark of analogies. First, with Djokovic, who has been his rival since their junior tennis playing days. Then, with Nadal and Federer. He has had to struggle to deal with these comparatives satisfactorily. And to find the balance between what he could do and what he was expected to do.
Closing in on Djokovic, Murray looks to have achieved the perfect parity of fulfilling both aspects.
There has been an outpouring of rationales as to why he will trump the Serbian at the end of the season. Ranking points have been enumerated and juxtaposed, his with Djokovic’s. His journey across the three tournaments he is scheduled to play have also been highlighted.
Earlier, Murray would have lost his way in trying to match up to these external statements of purpose. Now, he is least bothered by such narrations. He has learnt to take eventualities, both good and bad, in their stride without dwelling on their impacts. As the 2016 season whittles down, surrounded by the cacophony of unpredictability, this zen-like attitude from Murray is perhaps its biggest takeaway. In the process, making him out to be much enigmatic than he was thought to be.