Young gun boost for Tim

You can't blame him. As he enters these last laps of his career, it's as if he's determined people won't get away with defining his pioneering career by his inability to win the sport's single biggest prize.

For Henman has never been a failure; his has been a triumphant story for British sport since, if you had suggested back in his first Wimbledonin 1994 that within a decade Britain would be following a homegrown talent good enough to reach four semi-finals, you'd have been laughed out the Pimms bar.

Yet if there's been a fire of indignation within him waiting to burst out on court this year, we have yet to see it. So he goes into next week's event with the vast majority of his compatriots, even while rooting for him in his annual trial, having long stopped truly believing he can ever win the thing.

This term, his form has been poor, he's been hampered with injuries, he hasn't won more than two matches at a tournament since March and his draw offers him absolutely no favours. A couple of dangerous grass courters, Wayne Arthurs and Alexander Popp, await in the third round and Sebastian Grosjean, his conqueror of two years ago, is ready to ambush him again in the fourth. After that, it's probably Andy Roddick in the last eight.

Then there's the weight of history. Only two men, Arthur Ashe and Rod Laver, in tennis's open era have won a Grand Slam when older than Henman is now. One suspects his best chance disappeared when he got

2002. within two points of the final in that maddening rain-interrupted 2001 semi against Goran Ivanisevic. Even Henman now acknowledges that in the three editions since, he has never really performed well at Wimbledon even when last reaching the semis in

So these days, you can sense that the expectation levels surrounding Henman have really diminished dramatically - even accepting that it may not feel that way when a thousand maddening cries of 'C'mon Tim' fill the air on Centre next week - and maybe that could work to his advantage.

As could a bit more hoopla surrounding Murray. Should the lad overcome his ankle knock, beat a qualifier in the first round and earn a showcourt date with Queen's semifinalist Radek Stepanek, it could deflect the pressure on Henman.

Last week, Murray deservedly took all the plaudits. Against Thomas Johansson, he screamed, scrapped, smashed spectacular winners and kept battling on even while his body was giving up on him.

It was grand theatre, suggesting Murray is a rare old drama queen as well as top 50 material. Yet Henman? He just bowed out against the same Johansson in a desperately tame fashion.

It was worrying. For while Henman's form at Queen's has never been a reliable barometer to his Wimbledon chances, he still sounded afterwards like a man who, while trying to convince himself his all-round game has improved, feels he's lost his way on his best surface.

The old legends like John McEnroe and Boris Becker insist that his grass court prowess must still give him a "puncher's chance" even if the chances of him landing the knockout blow seem slimmer than ever before. Yet perhaps he can still take his cue from Ivanisevic who insists: "He's still capable of beating anyone at Wimbledon, even Roger (Federer). He just has to believe."

Didn't the Croat believe in 2001 when everyone else had given up believing in him? Could Henman, who's adamant that he's never stopped believing in himself, really go out there at last feeling unburdened by great expectations?

Better still, could he pretend he's 18 again with nothing to lose and nothing to fear? If so, we'll have to wait a lot longer before the renaming of Henman Hill as Mount Murray.