Thursday, 10 March 2011

Indian Wells: Donald Duck, my eye.


Young d. Murray 7-6 6-3

There really is no way to categorise young Donald’s style of play. Unorthodox? Flamboyant? HELL YEAH.  Not that either of those quite does it justice. I’d say its packed full of riffs and more akin to an “experience”.

(Just so we’re on the same page with respect to “riffs”…)

I don’t have any problems calling out Murray for the theatre of anguish he  inflicts upon us for rather too long every year after Oz. It’s something he’ll have to address for himself. Though I will say that I’ve seen a lot worse.

At some point, however, it was less about his despondent underperformance than it was about Young’s electrifying over-performance. Not that that was ever gonna get in the way of the mickey-taking.


Poking fun at Muzz  is all well and good provided you’re prepared, in the same breath (and in as strong terms), to give Young his due for the best performance and biggest win of his career. Not doing so is as blinkered as it is disingenuous.

He probably won’t keep it up. I doubt Hendrix could either.

Donald Duck, my eye.

(Pic: Getty)

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