LONDON—I’ve talked already this week about the unanticipated gifts that smaller tournaments can produce. They can also throw up thoroughly unexpected stars. This morning, James Ward was the world no. 216, a name little known outside of Great Britain and heard little enough outside of grass court season or Davis Cup. This evening - well, he’s still the world no. 216 for now, but he’s managed to knock the defeat of the world no. 1 off the top story spot, at least for the domestic press, and that’s no small achievement. Admittedly before today Ward had beaten fourth seed Stanislas Wawrinka, but that could easily be explained away as one of those freak results thrown up by the pressurized transition from one surface to another. Only an unexpected fight-back against defending champion Sam Querrey in the dying hours of last night had even kept him here. No-one would realistically have expected that by the time play finished in quarter-final Friday, he would have not only knocked out the defending champion, but defeated his next opponent to become the first British wildcard to reach the semi-finals and the Prime Minister himself would be standing to applaud his efforts.
Today was another rain-hit day at Queens. Ward and Querrey took the court in one of the day’s windows of sunshine at around 2 p.m., aiming to decide the match that started last night in a one-set shoot-out, a format well suited to these two players with their formidable serves. Ward, a year older than his opponent, lacks the imposing physical presence of the American, but if you are searching for a way to envision his game you could do worse than imagine a B-grade Querrey - a big serve, solid and powerful groundstrokes.
Still, today it was the wildcard who looked more at home and the champion who resembled the imposter. Querrey admitted after the match that he was suffering some problems with his elbow that kept him serving at a self-assessed 65%, but Ward differentiated himself from the defending champion in three ways: powerful, aggressive backhand returns that allowed him to dominate from the beginning of the point, a willingness to come to net and some crisply-delivered volleys once he got there, and perhaps most importantly, an unmistakable aura of being up for the fight. His newly-appointed physical trainer, Diego Visotzky, is a mixed martial artist - a cage-fighter - and intimidating beast of a man who stood to roar approval as Ward broke Querrey’s serve at 3-3; if the delicate volley winner with which Ward sealed the break didn’t seem to bear the stamp of a fighter, the attitude he brought to the match certainly did.
Ward, like his compatriot Andy Murray, is a blend of home support and international flavour. The son of a London taxi-driver, he is sponsored and funded by both the LTA and AEGON, the title sponsor of Queen’s and a prominent supporter of British tennis, yet trained in Valencia at Juan Carlos Ferrero’s Equilite Academy and currently works with the Argentinian Visotzky and Tomislav Peric as well as Great Britain’s Davis Cup captain, Leon Smith. In fact, when he chased down a Querrey dropshot and landed the response right on the baseline to win the third set and match 6-4, it was “vamos!” that he turned to yell at his team. Suddenly court 1 was flooded with press, well-wishers, autograph-seekers and LTA officials trying to look like they’d been there all along. In the midst of it all Ward, cool as a cucumber sandwich, draped a towel around his neck and nodded along pleasantly as his coach and trainer enthused live to the BBC cameras, surveying the scene absently like a man who knew he had more work to do.
That was precisely what awaited Ward later in the afternoon; another tough match, this time against Adrian Mannarino, the Frenchman who upset Juan Martin del Potro in the previous round. After another extended rain delay - and another - pushed the Centre Court schedule back and back, and Marin Cilic’s withdrawal put Andy Murray in the semi-finals, Ward was back out on court one and picked up where he had left off, with an almost unbelievably clean and confident 6-2 first set. Whatever magic had sustained Mannarino against del Potro had abandoned him today, and Ward was visibly brimming with self-belief. One point summed it up for me; serving at 4-1, up 40-0 thanks to giant serves and powerful forehand winners, he chased down a drop-shot that Mannarino played more out of desperation than strategy and, catching it with plenty of time, didn’t attempt an outrageous winner or cute angle but simply played it gently and perfectly down the line. It was the shot of a man who was utterly in command of the situation - and knew it.
Mannarino hung in grimly, trying everything to disrupt the British player, but when Ward broke for 4-3 with a backhand return winner it suddenly seemed not just possible, but likely, for there to be two British players in the semi-finals for the first time in the Open era. Whether that possibility seized Ward’s arm as well or not, he gave up three unforced errors serving at the match to put things back on level terms. Mannarino, handed a lifeline, started to play like a man who was also coming off the biggest win of his life, producing some spectacular reflex volleys and serving well to take it to a tie-break. Ward admitted after the match that there were “stupid mistakes” from both players in the tie-break, and it can’t be said to have been the best quality tennis, with fluctuating mini-breaks exchanging hands off unforced errors and neither player able to seize a decisive advantage. What it was, however, was unbeatable drama. As the crowd gasped, winced, and cheered as one, Ward, serving first, saw no less than seven match points come and go and was unable to seize a single one. Each time his eventual victory seemed less and less likely and in due course, Mannarino seized the opportunity afforded him by a stumble from Ward behind the baseline to execute a neat drop-shot and take the set 16-14.
It could, so easily, have been over there, especially when a frustrated Ward dropped his first service game to love in the third set. But as Mannarino started to pull off flashy winners, something in Ward just clicked. Maybe it was the spectators crowding the top of the Centre Court stands to encourage him, or the unexpected presence of the Prime Minister, David Cameron, eating crisps and applauding politely, but something just clicked. “You’re not going to give up at this point in the tournament,” he said laconically afterwards, but there are all sorts of giving up that aren’t necessarily a conscious capitulation - playing angrily, playing passively, losing yourself in fear, losing yourself in desperation. There are all sorts of giving up, and they all end in losing. At this stage in a match like this - darkening skies, capacity crowd desperate for a particular outcome, emotions running high - the actual shots made and missed seem to mean much less than the sheer force of the situation, the energy that circulates between player and crowd and becomes wrapped up in what we call ‘momentum’. Ward broke back, and then earned two match points at 4-5. These were never going to get away, and a screaming return winner put Ward in the semi-finals.
For the second time, the court seemed to fill from nowhere and Ward was in front of the cameras, the biggest story of the day. Yet once again, what was remarkable was the coolness with which he handled it, exuding the air of one who was for the first time right where he was supposed to be. His performance in his press conference was a curious mixture of slight belligerence, an I-know-my-business-best competence, and a kind of protective dullness, resembling Andy Murray in all three respects. Perhaps it’s a British thing; perhaps we may finally have enough press conferences with enough different British players to be able to make a judgement like that. If one good win can transform a career, as I wrote yesterday, imagine what three in succession can do. Regardless of what happens from here, Queen’s finally has two British players in the semi-finals, and James Ward is the biggest news of the week. And no-one seems less surprised than he does.