He helped Andy Murray change his fortunes at grand slam finals
The time on the only digital Rolex clock in the world read 5:26 pm. John McEnroe,once the worlds number one tennis champion,thrust his hand out of the BBC commentary booth (a bathroom-sized shed with a weak,green roof). A dazed Andy Murray,who had moments earlier become Britains first Wimbledon mens champion in 77 years,shook his open palm. He had brushed several trembling hands from the gallery en route to the base of the booth. His real celebrations would begin above it. In what has been a Wimbledon tradition for a quarter of a century,Murray climbed atop the flimsy shed over McEnroes head. Then,throwing tradition aside,the Scot dashed right past his mother,even ignoring his close friends and family. This moment was going to be shared with the only person on earth who had inspired him to achieve the impossible. Murray collapsed into the arms of someone Time magazine had once described as a chilly,self-centred,condescending,mean-spirited,arrogant man with a nice forehand his coach,Ivan Lendl.
Murray had achieved a feat that had seemed almost implausible for him. Lendl had made this possible by ingraining in his ward the ability to win the big ones,an ability Murray lacked earlier. In 2011,Murray had reached the Australian Open final,the third slam final appearance of his career. At the Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne,he lost in straight sets to a man whom he has played against since the age of 11,Novak Djokovic. In three slam finals till then,Murray had lost nine straight sets.
Over the course of the year,Murray would watch Djokovic double that tally with wins at Wimbledon and the US Open. The Scot had made each of the four slam semis in 2011,in a pack that was being labelled the big four. But he knew that it was,in fact,the big three plus one. Murray was looking for answers and he believed that only the straight-talking Lendl,a man who had lost his first four slam finals,could give them to him. On December 31,2011,Lendl signed on the dotted line. Project Murray had begun.
Those who have followed Murrays career will tell you that in the crunch games,he would look to push the ball back in play instead of trusting his instincts and a wide range of strokes. Under Lendls guidance and at the Australian Open semi-final,that changed. In a match that Djokovic called the best of his career,one that lasted four hours and 54 minutes,an aggressive Murray thumped his way back from two sets to one down,losing 7-5 in the fifth. After today,I know I can win a slam. Sooner rather than later, he had declared.
It didnt happen at the following Wimbledon. Federer won that day in four,but Lendl kept his ward focused for the London Olympics,to be played on the same turf the following month. Here,Team GBs Murray beat the Serb 7-5,7-5 in the semis and the Swiss 6-2,6-1,6-4 at Centre Court to clinch the gold. Then came the big one as promised. Six months after he said it,Murray was the US Open champion,defeating Djokovic in an epic five-hour,five-set marathon to break his slam duck. As the camera panned towards his coach at Flushing Meadows,he sat there as he always does,grim and cold. Wimbledon,he perhaps knew,was a different ball game,especially for a local player.
Every time Lendls stony expression was shown on TV,the BBC sports commentator,Boris Becker would scream into the microphone: Come on Ivan,you can smile. I know you can. Ivan,however,wouldnt. Not even when Murray made the Wimbledon final this year. Not even when he was three championship points up. Not even when Murray and the country began celebrations. But when Murray followed the tradition started by Pat Cash,a redeemed Lendl smiled. It was 5:26 pm and for both coach and ward,life had changed forever.
aditya.iyer@expressindia.com
