It is testimony to Andy Murray’s enduring hold on our imaginations that mere informed rumours he is thinking about postponing his comeback until after Wimbledon have sent the media – mainstream and social – into a minor frenzy.
There is an outside possibility the triple-slam champion, who is 31 next week and aware that his time is dwindling away, could even delay his return until 2019. That is unlikely. It would be the longest absence from the Tour of any of his peers, even Rafael Nadal, who has endured serial problems with his ankles, knees and hip for more than a decade.
Murray himself has contributed to the noise by … saying absolutely nothing. Usually active on Twitter and Instagram, he has been uncharacteristically quiet lately. The Guardian understands he will issue an update soon. His silence betrays anxiety.
So, into this void pops speculation. While his name was on the entry list for Queen’s Club on Tuesday – his stated second comeback tournament ahead of Wimbledon, after a workout in Rosmalen in the Netherlands just after the French Open – it transpires he has not been seen training at the All England Club lately.
Some took that as a sign he has encountered a setback and is not fit enough to practise at full tilt. It is possible Murray is being super-cautious two months out from Wimbledon and had reset his training schedule. He has always been sensitive to the most minor twinge – not without justification in such a physical environment – and he would see little sense in taking unnecessary risks. If he is uncertain of his progress, so are the rest of us.
Fuelling the fire, Murray cancelled two commercial appointments recently, although I am assured that had nothing to do with his preparation.
So there are multiple unanswered negatives flying about, combining to make, well, more negativity. There is cause for concern, obviously, because for months Murray has let it be known through his team that he was ahead of schedule in his recovery after a hip operation in Melbourne on 8 January.
That was a drastic move, one he had put off since losing against Sam Querrey in the quarter-finals of Wimbledon last year. He has not played since, and he has an itch he is desperate to scratch.
Murray is, by nature, a private person. When he came into the spotlight as a teenager at Wimbledon, having won the US Open boys’ championship, he could hardly have looked more poorly equipped to handle the attention. He was quiet, skinny, obviously talented and here for the long term. Over the years, he has grown mightily in self-belief, and physical stature.
He has done brilliantly, of course, winning Wimbledon twice after breaking through at the US Open. He has grown stronger, mentally and physically, and is regarded as one of the toughest players on the Tour. But he has never quite shaken off his reluctance to give too much away.
It has not been easy, as he points out occasionally. The type of tennis he plays makes more demands on his body than most. Part of his dilemma will be adjusting his game. He will not be able to grind in the same attritional way he has done since 2005. Because of the strain on his hip and the rest of the pivotal areas of his body, he will have to cut points short more often. He will be at the net a lot more, volleying. There will be more aggression.
Yet all this is against his nature. A brilliant shot-maker all through his youth, he tailored his style to suit the modern game, with spectacular results, dragging opponents into exhausting rallies then delivering the blade at just the right moment. Now he must change again – perhaps go back to the subtle touches he had to use constantly when playing older, bigger opponents growing up in Dunblane.
One thing is universally accepted: nobody has given more of himself to tennis. To see him sweat and strain up close is to witness a manically driven athlete in love with a game that often stabs him painfully in the hip, knees, wrists, elbows, back. There are not many unmarked areas on the Murray dartboard.
Murray has had surgery before, in 2014, to fix a chronic back complaint, but the hips are different. As Kyle Edmund said during the Brisbane Open in January – another tournament Murray pulled out of at the last minute, after the 2017 US Open – “Everything in tennis goes through the hips”. Edmund should know, because that is where he felt the dreaded shiver of pain at the end of his wonderful run to the semi‑finals of the Australian Open.
Which leads us away from Murray and on to Edmund, Britain’s new No1 in the Scot’s absence. On Wednesday in Madrid he scored a win as significant as any in his career, getting the better of a struggling Novak Djokovic 6-3 2-6 6-3 in an hour and 40 minutes. It not only launched him into the top 20, it gives him the confidence to know he can trade with these elite players on a regular basis.
It was the first time in four matches Edmund has even taken a set off the former world No1, whose injury woes are every bit as heavy as Murray’s.
Managing his game is a realisation Murray came to early in his career, except he had to make inroads against the likes of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. To reach that level, Murray spent every off-season in Miami building his body for the challenge. It cost him not just Christmas at home but the aggravation of physical sore points that had been lurking for years, such as his split knee-caps and a weakness in ankles and wrist.
They did not disappear by force of will. Murray has spent thousands of hours in the gym changing from a stringbean prodigy into a formidable athlete. Now, towards the end of his career, he has to do it all over again.
If he does not return on schedule in the Netherlands, he will aim at Queen’s Club, two weeks before Wimbledon. If he misses Queen’s Club, playing at Wimbledon becomes seriously problematic. Those are the calculations Murray has to make.
As a former member of his team told me last year, when Murray had started his enforced sabbatical: “Andy is a great problem solver. He always finds a way.”
