JOHNNY WATTERSON ON TENNISChoking is no longer a hanging offence but the consequences still amount to a kind of public execution

ALL OF the wizardry of Richard Gasquet is now forgotten in the light of Andy Murray's comeback on Monday night on Centre Court.

Gasquet is known as a fabulously talented player but is also famous for finding it difficult to close the deal and perform under pressure. He is the player who at the age of nine appeared on the cover of a French tennis magazine bearing a headline to the effect the cute little blond from the South of France was the future of the French game.

He became world junior champion in 2002 and has won junior titles at Roland Garros and the US Open. But he "choked" in Wimbledon, serving for his fourth-round match two sets up and needing just to hold serve to win. Maybe he sees that cover and thinks of what he has to do.

Choking is not a new phenomenon in tennis and has been around for years. The term predates most organised sport and may have originated in the Middle Ages with the tests given to women condemned as witches.

In The Life of Brian, the Monty Python team concluded that a pimple on the alleged witch's nose was evidence of her involvement in sorcery, but in the Middle Ages the suspect woman was asked to swallow a Communion wafer.

If she choked trying to swallow it - and given the stress of being called a witch and fear of the possible outcome, it is not surprising the poor thing frequently gagged - she was condemned to death by burning or hanging. But in sport the consequences are not quite so terminal.

Roberto Baggio was considered Italy's best player throughout the 1990s: a Fifa Player of the Year in 1993, part of two Italian League Championship teams and probably the world's most famous Buddhist. But what he is most remembered for is the penalty miss that cost Italy the 1994 World Cup. Baggio ballooned the ball over the crossbar. He choked.

But in soccer they don't call it choking. They call it missing a penalty.

Tennis is like taking a series of penalties. When a player is on serve he is the penalty kicker and the receiver is the goalkeeper. If the server gets four "goals" he wins the game. The stress in both disciplines is similar, even down to the jeering of the crowds, something to which both Gasquet and Baggio were subjected.

The stress points are varied; putting the ball exactly where it needs to go; making the perfect strike; holding technique that has been sharpened over years of practice and grooving; holding up to the pressures and expectations.

"I was winning two sets to love and 5-4, so I had to win," said Gasquet. "When I lost the third (set) my confidence was down. He played better. He served better. The crowd was for him."

Not much analysis from Gasquet, nor did he attempt any in the disappointment except to say he will relish meeting Murray at Roland Garros, when the crowd will most definitely be on his side.

Gasquet never used the choke word but everyone else did and that is something that sets tennis apart. Choking is a regular and understood part of the game.

Every player will admit to getting tight and the whole mental aspect of performing well is as important as a consistent serve or a strong forehand. But still, choking is looked on as a frailty or weakness.

Amélie Mauresmo has always been seen as a player whose emotions bring her down. The tournament she always wanted to win, Roland Garros, was the very one she was damned never to conquer because the pressure and stress of playing in Paris became unbearable.

The multiple Grand Slam winner Martina Hingis sensationally choked in the 1999 Roland Garros final against Steffi Graf. The German champion had not won a Grand Slam since 1996 and after overcoming a number of personal and health problems had stated her desire to win one more time before retirement.

Hingis took a one-set lead but Graf secured a dramatic second set 7-5. Feeling the pressure build, Hingis even served underarm, to the bemusement of all. But Graf closed out the match 6-2 and Hingis collapsed in an emotional heap and stormed off court only to be hauled back by her mother like a traumatised child to accept the second-place trophy.

But part of the allure of tennis is also watching players under duress. The fans share the emotions. They are intrigued by the slow unravelling of players' minds, usually at the most important part of the match. They are drawn to the dissolution of players' games as they stand alone out in the middle of the court. And they are fascinated by how players will either overcome or succumb to the difficulties.

They are equally enthralled by the fortitude of players like Murray and Rafael Nadal, who can glare across a net and know they will stay there for four or five hours if that's what it takes to break the other man's will, undermine his confidence.

"When you are serving out a match, when you know it's probably the last game that you're going to play, there's obviously pressure on you. You know you put in the hours of work. You just have to trust your game," said Murray after the match.

As the best players in the world understand, that is easier said than done.