In the aftermath of Andy Murray’s straight sets defeat to Rafael Nadal at Wimbledon, there has been an interesting mixture of reactions to his latest semi-final loss on Centre Court. Some observers, including John McEnroe, believe that the 23-year-old Scot still possesses the talent to realise his dream of winning a Grand Slam tournament.

They reckon his best chance lies during the course of next season, when Roger Federer will be edging further over the hill, and before the likes of Marin Cilic mature into genuine contenders for the main prizes in Melbourne, Paris, London and New York.

It’s a valid rationale but there are other people emerging who claim that Murray is developing into the tennis equivalent of Colin Montgomerie: a gifted practitioner of his sport, who possessed the ability to beat anybody else in the world on any given day, but ultimately lacked the vital ingredient to string together four rounds in a Major event.

On some occasions, Monty was unlucky, and was actually congratulated by Jack Nicklaus on “winning” the US Open in 1992, only for Tom Kite to sneak past him in the closing holes, whilst he squandered other chances where it seemed easier to win than lose.

Murray’s situation isn’t comparable at the moment. He has twice reached Grand Slam finals and come up against Federer at the peak of his powers in both contests. And yet, there are a few similarities which are worth pointing out. Last year at Wimbledon, when Murray found himself pitted against Andy Roddick, in a scenario which cried out for him to be positive, to attack the American’s serve – his biggest weapon – and attempt to seize the initiative from the first point. The Scot was too passive, too inclined to wait for his opponent to make mistakes, and not prepared to contemplate risks, even as the match gradually drifted away from him.

In common with Monty, he tends to eschew the flash shot, where the prosaic percentage option allows him to remain within his comfort zone. He also appears to be happier on the baseline, simply content to keep making returns – just as Monty often sought refuge in safe pars even when he was firing on all cylinders – and both men are uncomfortable with a burden of expectation on their shoulder.

This isn’t to belittle the duo’s achievements but Murray’s latest slugfest with Nadal betrayed several flaws which he will have to address in the next 15 months or he can forget about winning one of the big four. The first, and possibly, most glaring deficiency is his inability to convert break points and set points into the tangible reward of sets on the scoreboard.

The best players, the supreme competitors in their fields, always have the capacity for grasping these moments and preying on opponents’ weaknesses. They can raise their game when these scenarios arise and exhibit the requisite ruthlessness, almost as if switching on a tap. When Murray was gifted such an opening towards the climax of the second set tie-break, his whole body appeared to tense up. Suddenly, it was as if the man who had just blasted a couple of ferocious aces past the Spaniard was retreating into his shell, where his ambition extended no further than getting the ball into the court.

That is never going to be sufficient against a character blessed with Nadal’s indomitability at these pivotal moments and, even if Murray was unfortunate when his rival’s passing shot clipped the net cord on its way past him, he shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. Perhaps it sounds harsh, but he has surrounded himself with a string of confidantes, who are failing to drive home the message of how to gain a psychological edge over opponents such as Nadal, probably because none of them ever had the talent themselves to aspire to the loftiest goals in the game.

All of which leaves one wondering whether Murray was correct to dispense with the services of Brad Gilbert when he did. Okay, there is nothing pretty about the American’s coaching methods – you wouldn’t expect anything else from somebody who preaches the philosophy of “Winning Ugly” – but Murray is eight-tenths on the path to being the complete player. Technically, if his first serve works as well as it did against Nadal on Friday, he has all the shots in his repertoire. The missing links are what’s in his head, not his body.

He has a little time to remedy these problems. But not much. After all, we shouldn’t forget that Nadal is only 24, Juan Martin Del Potro, who is missing the whole 2010 season with injury, but has already one Grand Slam title in his locker, is just 22, as is Cilic. Others, such as Ernests Gulbis, are even younger and the clock ticks relentlessly once anybody has passed 23 without attaining Murray’s goal.

On the credit side, he prefers the atmosphere at the US Open to the absurd hype which surrounds his every move at Wimbledon, and he will be one of three or four of the participants with a genuine opportunity in New York. But he has to learn to nail the big points and be more streetwise when it counts. Otherwise, he risks veering down the Monty route.