Nobody in search of sporting drama could claim they were short-changed in Glasgow on Sunday, certainly not the Argentinians who outlasted Great Britain to advance to the final of the Davis Cup against Croatia.
The defending champions needed to win both singles on day three and, until the early evening, they kept the dream alive. It fell to Dan Evans to deliver in the fifth and final rubber and there was no faulting his effort, but he struck the supposedly out-of-form substitute Leonardo Mayer on one of his inspired days, his giant serving underpinning an impressive 4-6, 6-3, 6-2, 6-4 victory that left everyone present spent, not least the 8,000 fans who had cheered themselves hoarse from day one.
Mayer was on court only because Juan Martín del Potro, Argentina’s best player, withdrew at the last minute, exhausted after spending eight hours on court on the first two days.
Earlier on day three, home spirits could hardly have risen higher. Andy Murray has been bearing the hopes of a nation from the moment he walked on court at Wimbledon for the first time 11 years ago, so the world No2 was well prepared to absorb the every roar and groan that accompanied his sudden-death mission against Guido Pella. The tie was over if Murray lost. He was never going to let that happen.
His contribution to the drama was always going to be an equation calculated on the amount of adrenalin still coursing through his tiring limbs after eight hours of tennis over the first two days, matched against the fresher work of 26-year-old Pella, ranked 47 places below him in the world but lifted by the occasion.
Although visibly fighting against cumulative fatigue even in the early exchanges, Murray broke first, planting a backhand beyond reach in the ad corner after 13 minutes. He did not lack for friends.
One of the toughest challenges for Murray in this emotional cockpit of Caledonian fervour has been to separate sentiment and expectation from the colder, professional task of getting the job done. The trick is riding that wave of noise, something he has done successfully from Wimbledon to New York and back, but which presents unique pressures at home, just a short distance from where he was born. And his appeal crosses all sorts of boundaries. Nicola Sturgeon cheered as loudly in the stands as did John Bercow, just a few seats away.
The abiding memory of this and nearly every home tie has been the loud but respectful support, the serried ranks of the Stirling massive timing their between-point cheering to perfection, and everyone present acknowledging the efforts of the opponents. Del Potro got a full and heartful reception when he beat Murray; if all sport were like this, the notion of raw chauvinism might be properly diluted.
On the court, there was no holding back between Murray and Pella, a well‑organised and disciplined opponent who will have felt as much pressure trying to close out the tie as the home hero did to keep it going.
Kyle Edmund struggled to read Pella’s left-handed serve in the second singles on Friday, but Murray was alive to the dangers. Like a fighter in a world title bout, calculating the risk of going hard early and conserving energy for an expected fightback was the first decision Murray had to make. He went for it from the start, going 4-1 up inside 20 minutes, slapping two aces and seven clean winners for the loss of only nine points.
Pella was not going to fold and, hitting his spots nine times out of 10, he held to love twice to stay in touch, forcing Murray to serve out the set – which he did, coming from behind and battling through deuce, with a third ace and slightly weary mien. It had taken him 37 minutes; any notion this was going to be a Sunday stroll was quickly shredded.
Murray, a break up in the second, grabbed at the top of his left leg while holding for 2-0, but he was sucking it up for the cause, his shirt drenched and his opponent still wondering how to work his way back into the contest, even though he was playing near his best.
Murray had deciphered his inswinging serve and was stepping inside the court to apply more pressure, teasing him with changes of angle and depth. Pella held in a long, tortuous third game, with little between them in any of the rallies.
Thereafter, Murray, breathing hard, began to slowly pull away, like a Rolls-Royce restrained by a trailer. The gears were grinding a little, but there was enough petrol in the tank. Pella, still stubborn, held for 2-5 and had a lengthy strategy debate with his captain, Daniel Orsanic, before going back to take his licks, and Murray served through deuce to close out the set after an hour and 19 minutes of quality tennis.
In the first round of the Australian Open this year, Pella came from two sets down to beat Steve Darcis; but this was only the fifth five-setter of his career and Steve Darcis is no Andy Murray. It took Del Potro to interrupt his 14-match Davis Cup winning run; the chances of his compatriot making it a one-two knockout after losing the first two sets resided in the realms of fantasy.
Then the Argentine was gifted an unscheduled glimmer of hope: Murray, clutching his right thigh at 1-2 on serve in the third, left the court for a medical timeout. Repaired after a longer-than-mandated nine-minute break, he re-emerged to finish a tricky assignment. Jogging life back into his legs between points, Murray finished even more strongly than he started, although he was limping and grimacing again in the seventh game.
He stayed upright long enough to break Pella for the fifth time, the Argentine putting one last forehand into the net.
The concluding match was loaded with just as much psychic energy, given the stakes. Del Potro was not sighted during the first contest then reappeared to announce he would not play in the final match. It seemed like an enormous gamble.
Evans, whose self-belief crowds out much of the nervous tension normally associated with big occasions, was cool and commanding in the first set. Mayer must have secretly wished it was Del Potro in his shoes as Evans pierced his defences repeatedly with deep, raking groundstrokes to take the first set in 42 minutes.
Then Mayer’s serve clicked menacingly. He took the second set, broke at the start of the third and dominated pretty much all the way to the line. Evans’s resistance flickered as he chuntered to himself in the fading moments, but Mayer’s nerve held as he served out to love.
