On a night of the walking wounded at the Australian Open, slow and steady won the race.
Stalked by a lingering hamstring problem, Novak Djokovic grimaced, frowned and battled his way to a 7-6 (9-7), 6-3, 6-4 victory over Grigor Dimitrov, refusing to miss, relentlessly efficient on serve, determined to find a way. Dimitrov, still flamboyant after all these years, was the fresher of body but foggier of mind, spraying 50 unforced errors when the clear imperative against an opponent who required medical treatment for a second successive match was to keep the ball between the lines.
A short limp away, over on Margaret Court Arena, Roberto Bautista Agut was doing exactly that. Ever the embodiment of consistency, the Spaniard stuck to his guns against a hobbled Andy Murray, forever forcing the struggling Scot to make one more ball, to chase one more lost cause. Murray laboured valiantly to defy the debilitating effects of his marathon wins over Matteo Berrettini and Thanasi Kokkinakis, but he was unable to produce a third straight feat of escapology, falling to a 6-1, 6-7 (7-9), 6-3, 6-4 defeat.
Time’s passage is no friend of the professional athlete, and this Australian Open may yet come to be seen as a tipping point for the old guard. Rafael Nadal, Djokovic and Murray – who of course has the added disadvantage of a metal hip – have all faced physical challenges over the past week. Their struggles have been emphasised by the charge of youth. Only four of the 16 players left standing are over the age of 25, suggesting that tennis might finally be becoming a young man’s game once again.
Predictably, Djokovic is having none of it.
“Thirty-five is the new 25,” the nine-time champion told Jelena Dokic in his on-court interview. “Look at Rafa, look at Andy. They’re all playing an extremely high level. I’m trying to do the same.
“Every season counts now, when you come to the last stage of your career. You start appreciating and valuing every single tournament more, because you know that you might not have too many left in the tank.”
Nobody will appreciate that sentiment more keenly than Murray, who feared he had played his last match after losing to Bautista Agut in the opening round four years ago. His pessimism followed some downbeat medical bulletins about his hip, including one from a doctor who unwisely informed him that he would never play professional sport again. “I think we dispelled that myth the last five days,” Murray wrote on social media after his defeat, revealing a chance meeting with the aforementioned medical Nostradamus a couple of days earlier.
Murray has shown emphatically in Melbourne that he remains a force in the final phase of his career. His draw was almost as brutal as the 4am finish against Kokkinakis that he branded a “farce”, and which subsequently sparked a heated debate about the tournament’s scheduling, but he was defiant – and, more importantly, competitive – until the final ball. It has been a Herculean effort, especially after Murray revealed that he slept for only three hours after his titanic victory over Kokkinakis, before hauling himself out of bed to get “seven or eight” blisters drained.
Bautista Agut, one of the closest approximations to a human backboard the sport can offer, was one of the last men Murray would have wished to meet under the circumstances. For a while, it seemed Murray would be rapidly vanquished. With the Scot moving gingerly and struggling on serve, the opening set slipped by in under half an hour.
But as his battered body begrudgingly clunked into something more closely resembling life, so his spirit rose – and his game with it. From a break down, Murray recovered to force a second set tiebreak, which he clinched after saving two set points, harnessing the energy of a crowd that had been firmly behind the five-time finalist from the outset. It couldn’t last, and over the next two sets Murray was frequently to be found limping or bent double between points, his body no longer willing to take him where his will demanded.
“Serving was the thing that was giving me the most trouble,” said Murray. “My back was uncomfortable. I couldn’t really extend on my serves. I couldn’t hit a kick serve. I couldn’t really extend my back on the serve to generate much power on the first serve. Wasn’t able to really drive up to it. That was the thing that was uncomfortable.”
There was plenty of discomfort for Djokovic, too, although in the Serb’s case serving was a source of salvation. For all the limitations of his movement, Djokovic landed an impressive 72% of his first serves, winning almost three-quarters of the points that followed. The rubber-limbed acrobatics that are his calling card were notable for their absence, but so far the 21-time grand slam champion is manging his physical shortcomings admirably, just as he did when marching to the title two years ago while nursing a torn abdominal muscle.
“It kind of always starts well,” said Djokovic, “and then some movement happens and it gets worse. Pills kick in, some hot cream and stuff. That works for a little bit, then it doesn’t, then works again.
“It’s really a roller coaster, honestly. It requires a lot of energy that is being spent from my side mentally – and physically, as well – to deal with the match with my opponent, and also with [a less than] ideal physical state. But it is what it is, circumstances that you have to accept.”
Control what you can, accept what you must, leave it all out there. Such is the mantra of the ageing champion. As Murray reflected, it is all anyone can do.
“I feel like I gave everything that I had to this event,” said Murray. “So I’m proud of that. That is really, in whatever you’re doing, all you can do. You can’t always control the outcome. You can’t control how well you’re going to play, or the result.
“You can control the effort that you put into it, and I gave everything that I had the last three matches.”
It is what he has done throughout his career, and what Djokovic will do for as long as he remains in Melbourne.