Cerebral Medvedev challenges crowd and Nadal all the way to the end

Daniil Medvedev raised his eyebrows, swung his head to one side and mouthed “boring”. Tennis Australia president Jayne Hrdlicka was in the middle of her presentation speech, and listening politely to niceties was not a trick left in his playbook, which had already been sucked dry by the Spaniard standing next to him. It was peak Medvedev. Sore loser? Not really. He likely would have said the same thing even if he had won. Truculence is in his DNA – but not because he is Russian.

The stereotyping of Medvedev is still very much alive. For years he has been cast as the “pantomime villain”, the maverick with a hint of crazy in his eyes. This past fortnight all manner of adjectives have been attached to his name in the arenas and on the airwaves. Even the “Russian devil” has somehow seen the light of day, a troubling trope that says more about the mouths from which it came than it does the player himself.

Medvedev would probably lament that typecasting of this nature is a sign of a “low IQ”. It might also just be easier to quantify complex characters prone to colourful behaviour by putting them into a little box labelled “bad guy”. Had he outlasted the indefatigable Rafael Nadal and been crowned Australian Open champion – and stopped the “good guy” Nadal from making history – he would now also be confirmation bias personified.

In reality, the world No 2 is many things. Unorthodox and tempestuous, intensely confident with the talent to match. And also a contradiction of himself, both unflustered and agitated, calculated and over-emotional. He alienates his audience and in the next breath wins them back over. He tells a chair umpire – without a hint of irony – that he is a “a small cat”, and then apologises profusely. Informs