Annabel Sitting Pretty While Greg Spreads Out

It seems scarcely credible that less than a month ago I sat in a sparsely attended Beijing tennis arena watching Andy Murray lark about, and then strop about, on the way to a first-round defeat to Lu Yen-Hsun. The only weak positive to be taken from the whole sorry affair being that at the previous Olympics Tim Henman, too, had lost in the first round and recovered to reach the US Open semi-finals.

For once, the weakest of positives proved to be significant and a transformed Murray followed Henman into the last four at Flushing Meadows. History, however, seemed likely to repeat itself, for his chances against the indomitable Rafael Nadal seemed no greater than Henman's had been against the imperious Roger Federer.

Certainly that was the studio view. Greg Rusedski, a man with few friends in his chosen land, failed to add to his meagre number by talking about 'Rafa' and 'Murray' and describing the latter as 'quite a big underdog'. Annabel Croft, the minx to Rusedski's mule, went along with him saying: 'Andy's got to put his money where his bicep is.'

In the event, he didn't just put his money but the entire bank's down, as in the first set he produced perhaps the best tennis played by a British player for 70 years. It was witnessed by Peter Fleming, who may have been John McEnroe's inferior as a tennis player - famously having said that McEnroe and AN Other were the best doubles team in the world - but is certainly his equal in the commentary booth.

Not only does he know what he is talking about, he also has an engaging way of expressing it. Murray's dink shots were described as 'murf balls' - so lacking in power that they weren't even the full smurf.

Murray's level of accomplishment was so high that Fleming could say, without exaggeration: 'You could be forgiven for mistaking Andy Murray for the guy with five grand-slam titles.' And it was the imposter who raced to take the first set 6-2. Matters were so exciting that even that least discerning couple, Greg Norman and Chris Evert, moved from Ashe to Armstrong to catch the action.

As Murray, with a masterstroke, set up yet another break point, Fleming said: 'Nadal couldn't even flinch.' Murray was so fast the World No1 couldn't see him coming.

The match became a mini-classic. Nadal 'dodged' seven break points on his way to a second-set tie-break. He was three out of three for the tournament, but with Murray, in Fleming's words, 'serving like Sampras out there' that became three out of four. Murray was a set from the final. 'And he's done it,' screamed Mark Petchey.

But he hadn't. He'd started it, he'd middled it, but he was yet to finish it. 'He's not done, he's certainly not exhausted, but he could be winded,' said Fleming.

Nadal forced a break. The rain began. The last time a Briton had a realistic chance of making a grand-slam final Henman had been undone by the rain against Goran Ivanisevic in 2001. 'It's difficult to say who this favors more. Maybe it doesn't favor anyone,' said Petchey.

'It will give him some time to talk with his Uncle Toni,' said Rusedski, thinking it favored Nadal. Unalluringly, his legs were now so far apart that they were nearer 180 degrees than 90, while Croft sitting next to him double-crossed hers. 'I think this is a nightmare for Nadal,' she said bravely, considering her position was even more parlous than the Spaniard's.