Andy Murray more of a gladiator than the nearly man

A year ago they greeted him here as a nearly man: more gifted than Tim Henman, but a Wimbledon nearly man nonetheless.

Twelve months later Andy Murray made his Centre Court entrance as the Olympic and US Open champion. Hope is now closer to expectation. The dynamic between player and crowd was altered as Murray eased to a straight-sets victory over Germany's Benjamin Becker, a skilled grass-court operator who would have beaten plenty this year on this performance. Murray's range and touch were frequently off on "opening Monday", as Roger Federer likes to call it, as if it were a duck shoot, but the world No2 displayed all the physical authority of a player who has reached the final of the last three grand slam tournaments he has contested. Benjamin was no Boris Becker but he was the perfect first-round test for last year's beaten finalist, whose tears in defeat to Federer have been invested with mystical significance.

The actor Kevin Spacey told the BBC in Sunday night's documentary that Murray's crying on Centre Court had "humanised Andy for the public and the press". To which you might reply: if a man needs to weep on live TV for us to like him maybe we need a new way of appreciating character. Under dishwater skies and with Centre Court only half-full at the start Murray extended his winning run on grass to 12 by beating Becker 6-4, 6-3, 6-2 in 1?hr 52min, thus earning a second-round tie with Yen-Hsun Lu, who beat him at the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

No longer does the country need to start fretting as soon as he unzips his racket. There is much more of the gladiator about him now. With his credentials now nicely laminated he comes not to prove himself but extend his trophy collection to one last held by British hands in 1936 (cue the obligatory Fred Perry mention).

A slither of history is that Murray is now the most successful British player in grand slam history, according to matches won. This was his 107th victory, one more than Perry. "I guess it shows I've played some of my best tennis at the slams and hopefully that can continue," he said. "This period is quite stressful for me but it's also an enjoyable one. Playing at home is just something you've got to deal with." Even more bankable was Rafael Nadal's straight-sets implosion against Steve Darcis. Victor Hanescu walked straight into the combine harvester of Federer's brilliance and Murray was offered just enough of a runaround by Becker. Nadal has beaten Murray three times here but is out of the road now, leaving Federer as the largest block en route to the final.

Frankly, it is a relief to escape that time when it was assumed the super-lean Murray would advance deep into the second week only to find a superior talent to smash his head against when it really mattered. Back then there was always the sense that it would be stressful, complicated and ultimately upsetting. Only winning the biggest prizes liberates the contender from crowd neurosis. And for Murray that cycle was broken on this grass, when the Scotsman playing in front of a mostly English audience was recast as a Brit representing the whole London 2012 Olympic ideal.

"I don't think he felt he was loved there [before the Olympics]," his father mused in Sunday night's BBC profile, which veered from harrowing Dunblane recollections to soft-focus stuff about walking the dogs and low-cal grub. "I said no a lot of times, but the people behind it weren't intrusive, and I'm comfortable with Sue [Barker, the presenter]." Murray said. "Every time I speak to her I cry." The mission to explain who Andy Murray is comes after his victories at Wimbledon and Flushing Meadows had already done that. Many of us will feel we saw more of Murray's nature in his Olympic and US Open wins than we could by observing him on the couch at home. We have seen, in that 12-month span, a mighty resolve. We have seen dedication rewarded, frailties overcome and tennis's big 31/2 expand to become a big four.

This is not to say he will definitely win Wimbledon one day; rather, that many of the reasons for doubting whether he ever could win here have been removed by the force of his will. So the story has a new tone and feel now: more positive, less precarious. Britain already knows he is a winner. Now it just wants him to win here, at the garden party where the host always ends up crying in the kitchen.