First title of the year. First coachless title ever.
Murray d. Federer 7-5 7-5
Muzz wasn’t in as breathtaking form as he was against Rafa and the match wasn’t, frankly, the envy of the world.
Neither were the conditions, though the rain delays appeared to affect Fed more than they did Muzz.
Even so, if his newly unveiled forehand is here to stay it will all have been worth it.
AND IT IS NEW.
Prior to this week, Murrays forehand, or rather the frequency with which he used it to attack (i.e. almost never), was a barometer of sorts as to his levels of confidence. Now, it appears to be something he can use to end rallies with on a regular basis.
With consecutive wins over Daveed, Rafa and Fed (all without dropping a set), the week’s best player won and that is as it should be.
Now on to that man in pink, whose escapades in Toronto last week are like some curious hybrid of “Citizen Kane” and “Sesame Street”.
One the one hand, reaching the finals on the back of some, frankly, tragic episodes of spontaneous human confunktion should inspire confidence.
The opening sets he played against Berd and Djoko in particular were as good as anything we’ve seen from him and suggest he is still in touch with the kind of form that wins Slams.
The stuff that transpired after both those first sets, however, suggests he’s also in touch with the type of form that loses them.
Interestingly enough he may have unwittingly stumbled upon a strategy with which to trouble big-hitting Krakens –part of me wonders how much of this is to do with Annacone.
You can’t down a Kraken once it gets going – we all know that, folly to even try.
But if his match against Berd tells us anything, it’s that racing through the opening stages of a match in that deadly hypnotic way can smother the “big hitting genie” before it gets out of the bottle - and if he’s able to do that, then he’s in with a chance. A very good chance.
It’s an interesting thought. Kraken’s aren’t half so scary with their head forcibly dunked underwater.