Mounting passion stirs folk on the hill

The man talking into his mobile phone appeared to have mislaid his companion. "I'm up here on Henman Hill, or Murray Mount, or whatever it is they call it." There may be more serious issues in British Tennis right now, not least the fact that no-one bar Andy Murray would manage to go beyond the first week at Wimbledon even if their opponents were obliged to play with a frying pan, but it's about time we got this name business sorted. Mind you, we should perhaps just be grateful that it's Murray who has emerged to take up where Tiger Tim left off. What would the place be known as if the two next best Brits had come through instead? There's not a lot you can do, on the alliterative front, with Josh Goodall, and even less with Alex Bogdanovic. However, as they're respectively ranked 185 and 188 places behind Murray, there is unlikely to be an argument about what to call the place in future. From an emotional standpoint, however, the Hillites still outnumber the Mounties. When Henman was on the big screen, the crowd needed hosing down with a water cannon every time our boy won a point. With Murray, it's more the sort of applause you'd expect for a moderately good speech to the Wimbledon Rotary Club. When Murray won his opening service game, there was a minor outbreak of clapping. Ditto when his Serbian opponent dunked one into the net. Same again when Murray took the opening set. If yesterday's spectators occasionally looked to the heavens it was not (as it was when Tim was playing) in fervent prayer and fingers crossed, but merely because they were wondering whether the darkening sky was about to unleash its contents over them. No roof from where they were watching. There was also the suspicion that the crowd might have been more animated had they not had to wait until six o'clock for Murray to get on court. They were given the occasional taster, such as the BBC's roving reporter asking Dame Kelly Holmes whether she thought Andy would make the final. He'd previously asked the same of Terry Wogan, so maybe, when Andy is a real celebrity, he'll get to be asked whether he thinks Terry can stave off the challenge from Chris Moyles to his breakfast audience figures. Murray, like his supporters, also had a long wait, filling in most of the time by what is known as Twittering. Which enabled his fans to discover that at 3pm Andy was "having some food in the player lounge" and that "Justin Timberlake is here, apparently. But I haven't seen him". Fortunately, there was no sign that the elusive Justin had affected him when he finally got on court. There was further evidence that he was not really taking his opponent, Viktor Troicki, that seriously. In another "twitter" Andy had been making up culinary dishes involving Tennis players and had come up with "mince spadea, martina haggis, mardy fishcakes, and egg rusedski, among others. Viktor,though, didn't get a mention, not even a troika toffee pudding. Murray's popularity is still not on a par with Henman's, even though he's clearly had a serious PR makeover. Someone on his team realised that Tim's rapport with the people may have had something to do with resembling a choirboy or a school milk monitor and Murray now comes onto court - if not quite as clean cut - at least not resembling the Loch Ness Monster. They did the same to Greg Rusedski, who only just stopped short of dressing up in a Noel Coward smoking jacket and sprinkling "jolly good show" into his press conferences, but he never quite managed to come across as entirely British. It's not all that different with Andy. Henmania was virulent enough to bear comparison with the Black Death, while Murraymania, on yesterday's evidence from the Hill/Mount at any rate, is more a case of Swine Flu. A small percentage get a deadly dose, but mostly it's just a few aches and pains and a sniffly nose. Murray, though, certainly looks equipped to triumph where Henman failed, and become the first Brit to win Wimbledon wearing (unless it takes him so long that fashions change again) short trousers. If he wins this year he'll have something else in common with Perry, in that Fred hadn't passed his driving test when he won his first Wimbledon either. Largely because there wasn't one, in 1934. The mostly muted atmosphere in front of the big screen yesterday may have been nothing more than the fact that victory for Murray had been presented as a certainty, and his opponent seemed to think so either. Most of the players have taken to selecting two balls from three before serving,but Troicki examined half a dozen, peering at them like a vase on the Antiques Road Show, before making his choice. And his Tennis was equally indecisive. Murray, on the other hand, displayed that touch of hauteur with which we are now famil-iaand which isn't to everyone's taste. "Can't stand the bloke," said a man to his chum. "Far too arrogant." "But you've got to be arrogant to be a top sportsman," replied his mate. "Even Federer is." This provoked a long period of thought, followed by: "Yeah, but he hides it better." '' THE SCOT MAY BE THE FIRST BRIT TO WIN IT IN SHORTS