When it comes to clay, Andy Murray needs more moulding to be finished article

Matthew Norman
3 Jun 2009

Whenever we allow shards of optimism to pierce the cynical defences, the death of a British sporting fantasy is never far behind. So it was in Paris yesterday as Andy Murray, without ever quite raising the white flag, was effectively crushed by an inspired Fernando Gonzales.

Murray could never consistently find his first serve, his forehand, his backhand, his balance, his movement, his touch, his radar or his fighting heart. Apart from that, he was immaculate.

The inconvenient truth illuminated here is that, however quickly he has improved on it, clay is not Murray's bag and perhaps never will be. His technical problem was thoughtfully highlighted by Gonzales, whose greatest weapon is the one absentee in Murray's formidable armoury - the ability to consistently generate the pace and power required to hit winners on this slowest of surfaces.

Gonzales's forehand often misfires, but when it works it is one of the glories of tennis. This week, as on his run to the 2007 Australian Open final, it has made him impossible to contain.

Until yesterday, when his drop shots were as impressive as the swinging forehand Exocets, the Chilean had yet to drop a set in the tournament. The tiny consolation for Murray is that he ended that run with literally flawless tennis in the second set during which, remarkably if not uniquely, he made not a single unforced error. Alas, anyone who interpreted this as a decisive momentum shift was swiftly disabused as the Scot disintegrated in a fashion I'm reluctantly obliged to call Henmaniacal. Five years ago on this court, in the semi-final, Tim led Guillermo Coria, by a set and a break when suddenly it struck him that he was heading for his first Grand Slam final. He went to pieces, sad to recall, losing 11 consecutive games.

Perhaps something similar happened to Murray, albeit a round earlier, because he was inexplicably shocking in the third set, winning only seven points and no games. He rallied slightly in the fourth, but never looked secure on serve. Only after losing it, allowing Gonzales to serve for the match, was he liberated by desperation. He broke back to love, and for a moment you wondered if he might yet turn things around. But this was a mirage, not an oasis, and four points later the Chilean was through.

There is no disgrace in this defeat. If Rafa Nadal can have an off day on this of all courts, so can Andy Murray without anyone questioning his spirt and tenacity. At his absolute best, he would probably have lost to a brilliantly gifted opponent performing to the top of his form on his favourite surface.

Murray's natural regret for failing to reach the final four in Paris should be matched at least by his satisfaction at reaching the last eight.

In a way, it's a relief that he's out. We can now turn our full attention to Roger Federer, who stands just three victories from closing the debate (until Nadal wins the US Open and reopens it) as to who is the greatest of all time. If the Fed can withstand the expectations of the world better than Murray handled his own yesterday, he will provide one of the more emotional scenes in memory on Sunday afternoon.

It is crucial for him that he does so now, of course, because he will never have another chance like this to complete his collection of major titles. Ever more mentally fragile at 27, his resilience to pressure dangerously eroded by time and the scars of battle, very few huge occasions lie ahead for the Swiss.

The same cannot be said for Andy Murray, a superb tennis player (if not quite yet on clay) with a lustrous Grand Slam future. His day will come soon enough. Yesterday will, as it deserves, be swiftly forgotten.