A generation ago, in two epic Wimbledon finals some still regard as the sport’s high watermark, tennis produced perhaps its most celebrated contrast in styles.

McEnroe and Borg. Fire and ice.

Andy Murray, the man in black. Photo: Getty

The stakes are not as high at Rod Laver Arena on Tuesday night, and the names not as big, but there is something similarly compelling at the contrast in the pairing for the most anticipated match of the Australian Open so far.

Kyrgios and Murray. Hyper Boy and the dour Scot.

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Murray we have known for nigh on a decade, yet we don’t really know him; Kyrgios we have known for five minutes, yet we know him only too well – or at least a kid up the street who seems just like him, terrorising the neighbourhood with cheeky charm.

With Murray, it is hard to avoid the stereotype of a man from a grey-skied, grim part of the world, for whom life is an eternal struggle. The land of haggis, Gordon Brown and Sir Alex Ferguson.

Murray plays the game as though it is a chore he has been trying to perfect since he was a wee lad (in fact he played his first competitive tournament aged five) under the tutelage of a seemingly stern parental figure (cue, rather unfairly, mother Judy, who in truth has a fine sense of humour).

Together, they cut an almost Dickensian pair.

Plus, he is a bit of a whinger, as demonstrated by this tweet when Rafael Nadal cramped up in the early rounds in Melbourne:

When I cramped and won in the us open last year I was a “drama Queen, unfit, needs to see a shrink, faker” weird…

— Andy Murray (@andy_murray) January 22, 2015

Kyrgios is a product of Canberra’s open skies and a new-world pairing of a Greek father and Malaysian mother. He is a cocky attention seeker with a ready smile who looked on the verge of a gargantuan tantrum against Andreas Seppi until he turned the tide and rode a wave of emotion home.

The beauty of the McEnroe-Borg rivalry was its completeness, playing style as well as personality. Hot-headed serve and volley maestro v Zen baseliner.

Kyrgios’ actual playing style is not so radically different to Murray’s, although his strokeplay is more flamboyant, his shot selection more impulsive and he rushes about like a man on a caffeine overload.

Murray is patient and will take as long as necessary to win the point. Plus, he is unlikely to try the scissor-kick smash, won’t hit between the legs unless absolutely necessary and generally pays more attention to the ball than the crowd.

There is, of course, more to Murray than meets the eye. His Twitter account includes quotes from street artist Banksy, as well as examples of Melbourne street art.

He is respectful of the game and its history, but is also an original thinker, recruiting Amelie Mauresmo as his coach, despite scepticism from both within his own camp and the broader (male) tennis community.

He is also capable of delightful understatement:

44.5 degrees here in Perth today..sounds hot but I’m used to it though having grown up in Dunblane where January conditions are very similar — Andy Murray (@andy_murray) January 5, 2015

For the record, the average January temperature in Dunblane is seven degrees.

Murray is smart enough to know that he will be wearing black, at least metaphorically, when he takes to Rod Laver Arena against the popular, fluoro-clad Australian teenager.

Not that he will lose a moment’s sleep.

“I plan on trying to beat Nick,” was his deadpan assessment.

Kyrgios, meanwile, was talking up his chances.

They are roles that each was born to play.