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MELBOURNE—There was extreme heat one day, chaos inside Margaret Court Arena on another. By Thursday morning, though, it felt like the Aussie Open had settled into a groove. The weather was fine, the top women were marching forward, every seat in Melbourne Park appeared to be full, and hordes of face-painted teenagers had made their yearly pilgrimmage to the grounds.

Here’s the third installment in our daily trip around the tournament, from the press room to the practice courts, as the second round wrapped up.

Heh!

This is, very roughly, the sound that Andy Murray’s hitting partner makes when Murray drills an overhead straight toward him during the world No. 4’s practice today. It’s part of an uncomplicated, but time-honored, game that's played in every hitting session, or at least every hitting involving young men: Try to Peg Your Opponent with the Ball.

Judging by the enthusiam with which Murray goes about it, though, it also might be an early influence of new coach Ivan Lendl. The Czech, who was legendary for playing peg-the-other-guy in live matches, now stands next to Murray looking like Dad at the grill in an orange baseball hat, gray running shoes, and rumpled baggy black shorts.

This is a hitting session rather than a practice proper; Murray plays later today and he just wants to get the juices flowing. Standing close to the baseline, he lets his ground strokes rip and hits his forehand flatter than normal. His shots, at this moment, look a lot like Novak Djokovic’s. You can see that Murray could, if he had a completely different mindset (i.e., if he were a completely different person), play a more aggressive game.

Virtually all of the pros look taller and thicker in person, but the difference with Murray may be the greatest. Perhaps because he slouches when he plays, only when you stand courtside does he appear to be all of his imposing 6-foot-3.

Murray and Lendl banter and laugh. Murray smiles when he takes volleys and keeps going after his hitting partner. The other coaches on his team circle the court and shag balls. There’s positive, fratty, work energy in the air. The sun is out and it’s a new season. This, as much as anything else, is why you get a new coach: To make hope spring eternal.

If you broke a racquet, I broke you.”

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga is talking about why he has never broken a racquet when it’s still in the plastic. The question is asked of many of the players today, a day after Marcos Baghdatis did that very thing four times in an epic meltdown.

“My father told me all the time,” Tsonga says, “if you broke the racquet, I broke you. So I go easy with my racquet. Sometimes I prefer to hit myself than my racquet.”

The answers to this controversial question vary, as you might guess. Serena Williams, for one, is happy to be asked:

“That’s an interesting question, and different, thank you," Serena says. "I actually used to break a lot of racquets. I sometimes break them in practice, just not in a match anymore. I got to a place where I could see how many places I could crack a racquet. I got to five, which was great.”

Son-of-a-scientist Milos Raonic, naturally, takes a rational approach: “I have 10 racquets," he says. "I need to play with 10 racquets. I don’t have any to break."

Demure Ana Ivanovic, however, dishes a pleasant surprise: “I do smash racquets sometimes," she says with mischievous pride. "Last time I smashed not as many, but I smashed three racquets. That was the U.S. Open 2009. It didn’t really make feel better, so I decided, What’s the point?”

I don’t know, Ana, you might want to get some advice. I’m not sure you were doing it right.

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Em

Em

Aaaayyyy!

This is, very roughly, the sound that Ekaterina Makarova lets out after watching Kaia Kanepi’s last, overhit forehand fly past her at the baseline. Makarova brings her fists up to her face in a gesture of uncontrollable relief. In a minor upset on a deep sidecourt, she has just beaten WTA sleeper pick Kaia Kanepi in straight sets.

Kanepi, currently ranked No. 27, looked like a world-beater two weeks ago when she mowed the field down in Brisbane, and she came to Melbourne as many people’s dark horse pick to go far. Her collapse today is hard to fathom. Up 4-2 in the second set, the Estonian begins to miss. Badly. Her shots sail well beyond the baseline or into the doubles alley. If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it, beyond a slight slump in the shoulders; if she's injured, she doesn't show that either. Kanepi turns to the ball kid after each miss, nods, takes the ball, sets up to serve again, and makes another unforced error.

On the other side of the net, the 56th-ranked Makarova is all effort. Kanepi hits the heavier, more penetrating ball, but Makarova keeps it coming back with that extra bit of scrappy, cussed determination that won’t accept defeat unless there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it. That beats a heavier ball nine times out of 10. As Makarova lets out her victory screech, a blank-faced Kanepi walks straight toward the net for the handshake. The sleeper has gone to sleep.