Junk artist Ash Barty closes in on the Australian Open

Ash Barty plays junk tennis. That’s her description - self-deprecating and apt. And she’s looking more and more like this year’s Open champion.

Ash Barty reaches for a backhand against Amanda Anisimova on Sunday night

Ash Barty wants to junk it around. Her words, not mine.

It’s a great self-description of her playing style. Self-deprecating and apt. For the uninitiated, when you play tennis with angles, different speeds, high balls, low balls, dinks, donks, lobs, drop shots, flat balls, moonballs, topspin and slice, you’re known to be junking it around. One-dimensional players roll their eyes and blast away with metronomic power, while the junk artist gets her running shoes on, tries her guts out, chases every ball and drives an opponent stir crazy with prods and pokes and any other variation she can think of.

Barty’s junk gets its just desserts in her fourth-round victory at the Australian Open on Sunday night. Amanda Anisimova is dispatched 6-4, 6-3. The American’s victory over defending champion Naomi Osaka hasn’t been remotely shocking to anyone who’s seen her crush a ball. Barty knows she won’t beat Anisimova at her own game – the toe-to-toe baseline blows – and so she plays a different game. Her own game. Junk.

It’s not all pitter-patter from Barty. Far from it. She can smoke a forehand winner with the best of them. She does so whenever the opportunity arises against Anisimova. But there’s an abundance of prods and pokes in between. The sliced backhand. Sidespun forehands. It’s such old-fashioned tennis. She rarely serves at full speed, swinging it around like Meghan Schutt with a pink ball under lights. The ball is on a string.

You know how Rod Laver won his grand slams? By junking it around a bit. It’s the old-school method that Australian tennis was built on. Rod Laver, John Newcombe, Ken Rosewall, Evonne Goolagong, Margaret Court, they all junked it around. Barty is proving you don’t need a wooden racquet to do it.

Anisimova has gone into the match with advice from Australia’s Darren Cahill in her ear. The esteemed former mentor of Lleyton Hewitt, Andre Agassi and Simona Halep has been in Anisimova’s during the Australian summer. If Cahill can’t plot Barty’s demise, it’s difficult to imagine who can. She plays World No.21 Jessica Pegula in Wednesday’s quarterfinals after the American upset World No.8 Maria Sakkari 7-6 (7-0), 6-3.

Barty is introduced to a young girl called Willow at the coin toss. Barty says, “Lovely to meet you!” Choosing her side of the coin she says, “Please, sweetie!” The on-court announcer does such a lavish introduction – she’s the World No.1! The Wimbledon champion! She’s on a 14-set winning streak! – that he’s only just fallen short of declaring, “Let’s get ready to rumble!”

Anisimova is grimacing in Cahill’s direction as early as the first game. Barty is chopping backhand returns that throw her off balance. Barty’s run of unbroken service games, stretching back to the Adelaide International, extends to 62 games. An extraordinary streak ends early in the second set. No matter. We’re into the business end of Barty’s campaign. She’s three wins from the title. It’s getting down to the nitty gritty. It’s good stuff.

Barty is in trouble at 1-2. A break point down. She sneaks through the game and the relief is palpable. Anisimova winces. A massive opportunity has slipped through her fingertips. Barty is being tested for the first time in the tournament. Anisimova is nothing if not match-hardened after her marathon against Osaka. But she’s also looking sore and increasingly sorry, carrying some sort of leg muscle strain.

Niggling injuries are exacerbated by junk. You have to reach for balls outside of your comfort zone. Lunge forward. Scamper from one side to the other. At three-all, Barty plays a consummate point. Rolling forwards to the corners. Sliced backhands to the other wings. Soft shots, really, but carrying a plan. Only the superstars can play junk this well. She gets the job done and the Melbourne Park crowd goes up like Michelle Payne is moving into position to win the Melbourne Cup again.

Barty is oozing self-belief. It’s the result of winning Wimbledon. Nothing can faze her as much as the nerves associated with realising that childhood dream. By comparison to The All England Club, there’s little to fear here. She’s looking more and more like the Open champion. My words, not hers.