Play was delayed several times on a melancholy Sunday and so was Andy Murray’s victory celebration.
He barely smiled. He hardly waved to the crowd. He looked to be in mourning by his victory over Roger Federer, which even on a dreadful day like this one, was something worth shouting about.
He just isn’t the shouting type.
The sky above the Rexall Centre on Sunday was the same shade as the victory. Only the sky let loose a few times. Murray, who said he felt incredibly happy, looked like someone who just learned his dog had been run over by a car.
And in a tennis world in which it’s impossible to not adore Federer, to not be consumed by everything that is Rafael Nadal, Murray defeated one player on Saturday, one on Sunday, beat the weather, the crowd that wanted him to lose. So how did he describe his tremendous win at the Rogers Cup?
“It was a sense of relief.”
Not a great day. Not a sensational 7-5, 7-5 win. Not a fist pump. Not a deep breath. Not a silly Patrick Kane comment. In the post-match press conference, I wanted to shake Murray and say: “Lighten up buddy, you da man.”
He was the man Sunday. Partly because he was better than Federer, beating him in straight sets for the first time in his life, and being only the fifth player in history to beat Nadal and Federer on his way to a championship. Partly because Federer isn’t really Federer anymore. Partly because he wouldn’t succumb to the kind of comebacks Federer put on each of the two previous nights. And mostly because he was the best player in a very fine Canadian Open, one of the best tournaments in recent memory.
Even if the final wasn’t memorable, wasn’t really emotional, was disrupted too often by rain, and was won by the world’s least interesting man. Nobody said every athlete has to show the joy of Usain Bolt.
Nobody said that most winners should at least smile, celebrate for a second, show a touch of emotion. But you want something. Andy Murray is Sheamus from the WWE without the nasty side. He is impossible to care about, to warm up to, to wonder if he’s coming back in two years time.
Inside, just about everybody at the Rexall Centre was cheering for Federer on Sunday, and why not? This may be the last time we ever see him at this level in Toronto. He isn’t the absolute dominant near-perfect Federer of years gone by. That ship has sailed — and what a joy it was to behold.
This is a different Federer. A little more challenged. A little more fallable. Older and occasionally flawed. He missed sometimes. He makes more unforced errors than he used to. But he’s still the legend you pay to see.
And we won’t see him in Toronto again like this. Should Federer come back in two years, what will he be then? The decline has already begun for what might be the greatest athlete of this generation. Someone needs to say thanks for the memories.
And now, Andy Murray at 23, is one of the next ones, but he has now won this tournament twice in a row, even though he has yet to win a Grand Slam.
The U.S. Open will be his next big stop. Wild, crazy, humid, loud New York, won’t necessarily warm to Murray, just as Toronto didn’t. New York wants its tennis players to be Jimmy Connors or John McEnroe.
And if it can’t get fist-pumpers, then the royalty that is Federer fits just fine.
Murray is Ivan Lendl without charm and without Slams. He would be vanilla, but that’s still a flavour with taste.
“I feel great, incredibly happy,” said Murray, not looking or sounding great or incredibly happy.
The championship win was impressive: It just didn’t look or feel that way.
steve.simmons@sunmedia.ca
twitter.com/simmonssteve
