In environments as parochial as Australian tennis and its home grand slam, it is quite an achievement to carry around with you a nickname as evocative as “Mad Dog” and barely raise the pulse of the nation, but 29-year-old journeyman Marinko Matosevic is not your typical Australian sports story.
Matosevic doesn’t like the nickname much (“Mad Dog? What is that? Like a dog with rabies?”) but once you’ve witnessed his patented on-court outbursts and flair for controversial statements it doesn’t seem so far-fetched.
The real thrill of Matosevic lining up against Andy Murray in the second round of the Australian Open is that the Bosnia-born Australian got there at all. A non-entity at junior level, it’s been through sheer bloody-mindedness that he’s carved out an unusual professional career since 2005. Mostly that’s played out off-Broadway – 2014 was the first year in which Matosevic progressed past the first round at a grand slam (at both the French Open and Wimbledon) – and advancing to meet the Scot in round two here is the furthest he’s come in his home tournament after five failed attempts.
Then there’s the mouth. In most situations Matosevic’s derogatory, bone-headed comments about Murray’s appointment of Amelie Mauresmo as his coach in June last year (sample: “I couldn’t do it since I don’t think highly of the women’s game”) would add spice to this sort of match-up, especially against Murray, but the pair share an unlikely friendship and mutual respect.
“He’s just a bit different,” said Murray on Monday. “When someone’s different, people want to have a go at them but he’s a good person.” Matosevic apologised to Mauresumo at the time, qualifying his comments, ones Murray seemed to brush off regardless. For the Australian, taking a set off his high-profile opponent might prove a lot tougher. In their three meetings until now Matosevic has never managed it.
Matosevic made no secret of his disappointment at facing Murray so soon in the draw. That the disciplined and unsmiling Scot previewed their looming encounter as holding the potential for being “a fun match” probably doesn’t bode well for the Australian either.
It also says something of Matosevic’s combustible and often grating on-court persona that despite possessing many of the attributes of a popular Australian tennis archetype – the hard-hitting show court battler – he’s failed to win anything approaching the cult following he might have. Not for him the healthy reserves of goodwill enjoyed over the years by the likes of Chris Guccione, Wayne Arthurs and Richard Fromberg, though Matosevic did draw a small and vocal faction of “The Fanatics” supporter group on Monday, some of whom drove his first round opponent Alexander Kudryavtsev to distraction.
After taking five sets to overcome the Russian, Matosevic threw himself at the ground as though he’d scored a cup winner before aggressively screaming into a nearby camera lens, which was in all honesty a demure and composed victory lap by his standards. Asked after that encounter whether it was an amusing role-reversal that it was his opponent angrily confronting the chair umpire this time, Matosevic said, “I guess I’m definitely maturing in my old age, I’m a late bloomer.
“I guess mentally-wise I’m a late developer in that department as well.”
Though Matosevic’s improvements in the past two years have been modest and gradual, even tennis great John Newcombe lauded his unique late-career run. “He used to get a bit too emotional on court,” said Newcombe on Tuesday before discussing the calming influence that Matosevic’s coach Magnus Norman has had on the Australian’s game.
Murray could rightly view Wednesday’s match-up as little more than a high-tempo practice run on his way to more important assignments but Matosevic – less a local hope than an object of curiosity – has already shown that sometimes bluff and bluster can have their day in the sun too.
