Edmund: ‘If I win, great; if I lose, I’m upset. People’s lives go on'

Kyle Edmund’s unsung victory in reaching a quarter-final against Grigor Dimitrov here on Tuesday – the British No 2’s first in a grand slam – has been staying true to his quiet nature as passions rage around him.

From the moment Andy Murray withdrew from the tournament to have surgery on his hip, Edmund – ranked 49 in the world – has endured with dignity serial inquiries about how it feels to be shouldering the expectations of a nation.

After another excellent performance to defeat Andreas Seppi in the fourth round on Sunday, he almost – but not quite – let his frustrations bubble to the surface when he said: “Well I get asked it a lot, in the press conferences and on court.” Earlier, he seemed within one more Murray question of walking away from the courtside interview by the host broadcaster.

“Logically, I don’t really understand the question: do you feel the pressure of the nation? It’s a tennis match. I do my best. If I win, great; if I lose, I’m upset. But people’s lives go on. It’s not like it’s the end of the world. I’ve said it before: I’m doing my best, basically.”

When it was suggested that the prospect of Murray not being in the public consciousness at all might leave a void he is perfectly placed to fill, he smiled and said: “But, if I didn’t do well, what happens? I love Great Britain. I like playing Davis Cup. I don’t look at it as the pressure of the nation, or whatever. I just do my very best.

“It’s a tennis match, at the end of the day. I want to know when I come off court that I’ve done my best. If I haven’t played well, given my best, I’ve been very honest with myself and admitted that. I’ve admitted in press conferences before that it was not there on the day, but that’s it.”

Warming to the theme after another job well done – 6-7 (4), 7-5, 6-2, 6-3 in just under three hours in warm but not intolerable conditions – he said: “Tennis is a lot of hard work, working smartly, working on your game – whatever that is tactically, technically. Sport in general, and tennis, is very mental: the more you play and the more you lose, and figuring out how to win, and when you win, you take confidence from that.”

There is integrity in his response. He is not here to satisfy either the media or amateur psychologists who, on the one hand, rail against the loudness of Nick Kyrgios (who lost against Dimitrov in four sets of high passion) but struggle with the low-key demeanour of a quietly dangerous contender from Yorkshire.

His new Swedish coach, Fredrik Rosengren, has got to understand him quickly. “In the first match in Brisbane,” he said, “Kyle played [Denis] Shapovalov, serving for the first set and lost it mentally – but still kept going. Then he was up a set and a break against Chung [Hyeon], lost it and won again. That meant a lot to Kyle, this stepping up when he needs to.

“I heard this was not his strength in the past, so we are talking a lot about this: to play to win, not to play to avoid losing, to have the heart. You will not win every time but you have to go out there and get it, because these guys will not give it to you to free.”

In the later quarter-final here on day seven, a match of the highest technical and artistic quality, yet swaying between dire and sublime and littered with expletives, Kyrgios demonstrated what Rosengren was talking about. He reached the outer limits of his combustibility, butchering a smash at the end of a long, tense eighth game in the fourth set. Yet the Sydney genius, broken, broke back, to keep the flame flickering. This was, dare we say it, Murrayesque: meltdown, self-inflicted wounds, glorious fightback.

Kyrgios – who hit 36 aces to go with 97 already logged, overtaking Ivo Karlovic at the top of the tournament table – saved one of three match points with a giant serve down the middle. But he was helpless at the net as Dimitrov’s final cross‑court forehand seared through the night air into the untended deuce corner.

The Bulgarian’s grace at the end, embracing and consoling the local time bomb, was a counterpoint to the tempestuous behaviour of a player who likely will change slowly, or maybe not at all. He will probably judge it more important to remain true to himself. As were both of them: one hot and ultimately self-destructive, the other cool and, after the drama, elated.

“What can I say? Playing against Nick is always tricky,” Dimitrov said courtside. “Two weeks ago I lost against him [in the Brisbane Open semi-finals, after surviving three tight sets against Edmund]. He fought really hard. Even when I was serving for the match I felt it was not over.

“You’ve got to be alert. A couple of second serves today were over 200kph. Last year was a dream year for all of us, Dani [Valverdu] and the team. We’ve been trying to build up every single day. Step by step, we’re moving forward. Sometimes you have to take a chance, and today was one of those days.”

He did not spare much energy analysing Edmund, whom he has beaten in their only two meetings: in Washington last year and in Brisbane. “I played Kyle two weeks ago. It’s just another match. I’m just focused on my side of the court. I’m happy that I’ve switched up a gear.”

It might be “just another match” in the preconceptions of both quarter‑finalists. It will not seem remotely like that when they face each other across the net. Then temperament will be the umpire yet again.

(GUARDIAN)