Arthur makes Centre Court his kingdom

Even the biggest optimist wouldn’t have expected much. Following the overnight Mexico vs England slugfest, an afternoon in SW19 felt like sleeping on an oil rig then going to the beach. The football was rain and thunder – loud, unrefined and unrestrained. Wimbledon is none of these things. Here are clean lines, tan lines and a surface gleam which can turn sleep deprivation into a hangover. But its beauty has always been in the deception.

Arthur Fery, ranked 114th in the world, came into today’s fourth-round match against Grigor Dimitrov as the last British hope in the singles draw. But when he stepped onto centre court, the stadium was half full and half asleep. The quieter environment suited him. It’s probably what he wanted. In his third-round epic against Zizou Bergs, Fery asked to play on court 18 rather than on a show court. This wasn’t possible now, so empty seats were the best he could get. In front of a crowd still shaking off the Azteca, Fery took 27 minutes to win a point on Dimitrov’s serve, but then won four in a row to break and wrap up the first set.

Alas, success has consequences. Spectators outside heard the score, drank up their flat whites and loped to their seats. This was all Fery’s doing, of course. His first set made everyone think he might generate some magic. He has been Britain’s only bright spot in the tournament. But it looked like the occasion, as it developed, would undo him. The mismatch became as clear as mud.

Both Fery and Dimitrov entered the tournament as wildcards, and that is virtually where the similarities end. Fery is young, rambunctious and homespun. Dimitrov is senescent and injury-prone, with tragic potential. Their playing styles are a lesson in contrasts, too. Fery is a low-slung dynamo with quick feet and a sweaty stockiness. Dimitrov, six inches taller, is a less balletic Roger Federer. The elegance of his one-handed backhand belies the fact that he hits the ball like a sledgehammer.

These distinctions started to show. Dimitrov won the second and third sets at a canter. He was cruising towards wrapping it up in the fourth. But if today held any lesson, it was that the most grizzled of players can feel the occasion. And with Fery on the other side, that is a problem. He may seem like the platonic ideal of a hooray Henman – baby-faced, Stanford grad, called Arthur – but this man has steel.

Somewhere near the bottom of the fourth set, Fery woke up to the now-full Centre Court crowd. He shook his fists, tipped up his hands like a conductor, and was propelled by the nation’s second wind. This was someone who knew he could win. Who did win the fourth.

As the heat broke and clouds gathered overhead, Fery and Dimitrov exchanged blows in the fifth. Dimitrov had the advantage in the tiebreak, but then double faulted to the general joy of the assembled crowd. He’s a popular figure at Wimbledon, but he is not British. His race was run. Fery stood for a moment in victory, hands on his waist, before stretching out in an embrace to a crowd who have quickly embraced him. Federer gave him a standing ovation. Who else?

Dimitrov, a 35-year-old former world number three who has reached the semi-final of three majors, will have regrets. This loss, when so close to victory, must be hard to take. As for Fery, he is the only British wildcard to reach the quarter-final of a Grand Slam and the lowest-ranked player to reach the men’s last eight at Wimbledon for 12 years. Shall we dream? Goran Ivanišević won Wimbledon as a wildcard in 2001. In this fretful heat it’s not hard to think that lightning can strike twice.

Photograph by James Fearn/Getty Images