The Incredible Bulk shows how far there is to go

THE knowledge that Rafael Nadal has long been the measure by which Andy Murray has gauged what needs to be done helped make last night's experience a sobering one for not only the Scot, but also those who looked on with an ever-deepening horror at the gulf that appears to exist between two men of such similar age.

Murray has recalled the time he became convinced that he had to leave Britain for the benefit of his tennis career. It occurred following a European Under-16 team championship in Andorra. Afterwards Nadal, who had featured in the winning Spanish team, told Murray that he regularly practised with Carlos Moya, then in the world top ten. Murray is fond of recalling that at that time he was hitting with his brother, his mum and county-level players.

Just over five years later and Murray often looked like a county-level player against the might of Nadal. Or, at least, the Spaniard made him look like one. The outcome was never in doubt.

The main intrigue came from wondering how Murray might react to this dispiriting experience. The swiftness of Murray's demise meant the television watershed for broadcasting expletives was still some time away as the Scot was sent panting to all corners of the court by his merciless opponent. But Murray kept it together and hung on gamely.

There was no outburst, as on Monday. Even exhortations to himself were the kind of yelps his pet Border terrier might have been embarrassed to produce. Across the net cord Nadal prowled like a Rhodesian ridgeback with a bad dose of fleas. He didn't stay still for a second. Murray later confessed to feeling rushed at every point.

The Incredible Sulk v the Swoon, one (female) English commentator had described this contest. In the end, it was all about the Incredible Bulk. Murray could not call on the resources of energy and strength required. The flexing bicep routine of Monday night, which he stressed had not been aimed at Nadal, was made to look a foolhardy performance. Nadal looked as through he had got brawnier in the two days since his own fourth round match on Monday. His absence on Tuesday from the practice courts had been explained. He had been in the gym, putting muscles on muscles. One vein, which runs down his right arm, looks like it has escaped from a zoo.

Murray wilted in the Mallorcan storm. Others simply swooned.

This was no Murray v Gasquet match-up, the dynamics of which saw the Scot heavily favoured. The French player is an entertaining enough performer but was unable to draw much sympathy from the Centre Court crowd. Murray, by contrast, did what he had to do, and whipped up the support by displaying courage to come back from a desperate position. Here, however, the crowd's disposition was less easy to ascertain. Sure, it was Murray they wanted to win, but when Nadal began to reveal himself as operating at a different level to the Scot it was impossible for anyone watching not to be seduced, Murray included.

There was genuine warmth when they met at the net at the end but, surely, some envy and frustration present on Murray's part. Is this the man who will stand in his way for years to come? Federer is one thing, but Nadal has youth as well as an incomparable physique on his side. He is likely to be around as long as Murray. The Spaniard will be a constant, muscle-rippling yardstick.

This bleak thought seemed to have settled across Centre Court like one of the black clouds that had earlier delayed play. There was never the same fervour as was felt on Monday. Reports of £2,000 tickets suggested that a different type of person was inside the court compared with earlier in the week.

The evening song of British tennis fans was heard in the first few games, before the pattern of the evening became established. 'C'mon Andy!' they chirruped, and the appearance of warm sunshine helped with the mood. But soon it soured. At the stage when he began his salvage job against Gasquet – two sets down, and 5-4 down in the third – there was little hope of another miracle. He broke Gasquet's serve at this pivotal point. Against Nadal, Murray looked broken.

The fans cheered wildly when the Scot saved his own service game, but only because they recognised that the race had been run. It was their appreciation for Murray having got this far. Nadal is a long way from the slightly fragile Gasquet. Doubts don't prey on his mind. He doesn't know the meaning of choke.

Murray had appeared at 6.04pm to a rousing ovation – even from the Chelsea pensioners seated by the players' entrance. But even when the players warmed up it was hard to ignore the contrasts in the two men who were about to lock horns. Nadal is like nothing seen on a tennis court before. Murray looked out-of-place in out-sized kit. The later addition of a cap to his look prompted wolf whistles, but by then the tension of the occasion had disappeared completely, to be replaced by a familiar feeling of deflation.

• The Murray family had something to smile about last night as Jamie and partner Liezel Huber reached the semi-finals of the mixed doubles.

The 14th seeds upset second seeds Daniel Nestor and Chia-Jung Chuang 6-4, 7-5, keeping alive Murray's bid to retain the title he won with Jelena Jankovic last year. They now meet either Bob Bryan/Samantha Stosur or Andy Ram and Nathalie Dechy.