Andy Murray's latest act of resurrection is matched only by a handful of other miracles in his career... he keeps on finding a way to show us how unready he is for the end, writes RIATH AL-SAMARRAI

Andy Murray told a few of us last week that he was ready for the end. Alongside his list of astonishing sporting achievements, we can now add that he is a truly world-class liar.

Right to the very last, he will keep on finding ways to show us how unready he is. He will keep on fighting and straining and generating those moments that make you gasp and say: ‘Andy bloody Murray.’

Of the 1,000 or so matches he has played, of all the acts of resurrection he has performed in the past 19 years leading up to this final week of his career, only a handful might equal the one he delivered in the company of Dan Evans on Suzanne-Lenglen court on Sunday evening.

For over an hour of their Olympic doubles engagement with Kei Nishikori and Taro Daniel, this was heading for the saddest, most underwhelming of conclusions. 

We can cut to so many junctures of their first-round duel to illustrate how that looked, not least the five match points they faced in the deciding set, but let’s do it in some kind of order.

The first set was a shambles – they lost 6-2. Then Murray had his serve broken for the third time in the opening game of the second in front of a half-empty stadium. It was bleak. A whimper. No way to go for a man looking every day of his 37 years and five weeks on from back surgery.

But somehow these two wounded friends dragged themselves back into the second set, and then they did it again after going another break down. Somehow, mostly through Evans it should be said, they made it to a tiebreak and won it.

Goodness, that was unexpected. And yet none of it had a patch on what followed, which under the format of this competition meant a race-to-10 point showdown. A Match Tiebreak, they call it, and such glorious bedlam came our way.

The basic fact is this: they trailed 9-4, so five match points. They were buried and on some undesignated day in the next week, when Murray does indeed play his last shot of this last dance, his family might consider doing the same to his racket.

 In a steel coffin and under a mile of concrete. To do otherwise would only risk him putting them through this strife again.

And so back to those match points. Murray, serving terribly throughout this lovely evening, delivered an ace. With the ball back in his hand, he then blasted a service winner. A window was open and then a Nishikori double fault. 9-7. Seriously?

Some marvellous acts of retrieval from Evans then took it to 9-8 and a sublime volley from the same racket brought them even. When Evans then held his serve it was 10-9, match point. 

‘Let’s go GB, let’s go,’ the few here shouted and so Murray went with them, stepping onto a Daniel serve with an unreturnable forehand that preceded enough punches to leave holes in the air. He hugged Evans so tight he might have killed the little guy.

‘In my career, I have turned around a lot of matches where people thought I shouldn’t have won,’ Murray said. ‘I have always tried my best to fight and come through. I couldn’t have done that on my own today.’

A word here on Evans. In many regards, he was the stronger partner, but he also knows this will be seen as Murray’s story. He has said as much himself – he is prioritising the doubles here ahead of the singles and that was shown by his place on the court, because he had reason to pull out.

The drama came from having injured his wrist and knee earlier in the afternoon, while edging past Tunisia's Moez Echargui in three sets. Had he taken a different route, it would have compounded a day when Katie Boulter lost in the women’s singles, Cam Norrie withdrew injured from the men’s and Jack Draper beat Nishikori.

But Evans didn’t fancy the extra recovery time. ‘I did not want to be the one pulling out on him,’ he said, and it invited thoughts about Emma Raducanu and Murray’s curtailed farewell at Wimbledon a few weeks ago.

So Evans dragged his aching body to this match. For so long, it seemed academic. Even Murray’s mother, Judy, thought so. ‘I was mentally working out which flight I would get home,’ she said. ‘But you never write him off.’

No. You can’t. And at some stage this week we will do it again, possibly in the next match on Tuesday against the Belgian pairing of Sander Gillé and Joran Vliegen or Arthur Fils and Ugo Humbert of France. We can write it and say it.

But until his racket is in that coffin and under that concrete he won’t listen. What a magnificently stubborn man.