Marat Safin's easygoing nature makes him popular with crowds and with his peers.

As a stand-up comedian in shorts, Marat Safin would understand that Rod Laver Arena tonight will be what his fellow comics would call "a tough crowd". No matter how good his material, how original or entertaining, the demographics - Australians - will be against him.

Not that Safin cares, noting yesterday that he once played a Davis Cup final in France. "It can't be any worse than that." Think of 15,000 "Fanatiques" cheering wildly on your every fault.

Safin's already made his endearing pitch for a decent hearing. "If Lleyton wins, I mean it's like a present from me to you guys," he told the centre court after he celebrated his 25th birthday by defeating world No. 1 Roger Federer. "I think I win, I'm sorry."

Few will be in Safin's centre court corner tonight, but he'll have a fair amount of the sizeable anti-Hewitt minority cheering from their sofas. Even the mass of Hewitt admirers would view Safin more as an obstacle for our Lleyton than Darth Vader. And should Safin get up, he'll doubtless soothe the collective Australian downer with a self-deprecating one-liner.

Safin won't mind a bit of hostility tonight because, as we all know, he does not want for love. There is reciprocal amore between Marat and the female sex, while, according to Mats Wilander, his locker room peers also will be pulling for him. The bulk of the international media, appreciative of the many soundbites and quotes Safin contributes, will be aboard the Safin wagon.

How does one explain the appeal of Safin? Wilander, who coached him for eight months, said it was Safin's willingness to express whatever he was feeling - rage, frustration, joy - coupled with his comic timing, that made him so likeable. "We are all frustrated at times, but most of us don't show it," said Wilander, who gave us the emotional range of Charles Bronson on court. "And he shows it. And he's funny.

(Safin is) very funny, even when he's not funny. MATS WILANDER, Safin's former coach"He's very funny, even when he's not funny . . . I guess he's good-looking. I know it's hard for me to say because I'm a man. He's one of a kind and he's really as normal as anyone. It just comes out and he cares. He cares in life. That makes for an emotional person."

Peter Lundgren, the Swedish mentor who has pacified Safin and thus saved dozens of tennis racquets, had a similar take on the Russian's universal appeal. "Because he's a very natural person, easygoing and he shows his emotion. He's good in the speeches after the match. He's good with the press, he does a good job. He's a very good guy.

"He's very human . . . he's easygoing. But he's calmed down on the court, he's much better focused and I think that's the key to his game, why he's playing better."

Lundgren subscribes to the view, however, that Safin works better if he releases some emotion, instead of keeping the cork in the bottle. The coach said it was preferable that Marat bounce his racquet once, properly, to bottling his rage. "If you whack it one time, do it OK. If you do it, you do it good. And that's it. He doesn't do it any more. Just to get it out."

Vent some anger, in other words. When Safin is irritated or angry, he seldom directs his ire at linesmen, umpires or opponents. The target is Marat. "He gets very pissed off," said Wilander. "I think people would like to have the guts to show how they feel. And he speaks his mind. I think everyone would like to do that."

There was a trademark moment of unrestrained volatility during the Federer epic. A bothered Marat spotted a moth on the court. Instead of following the RSPCA path of gently removing the distressed insect, Safin stomped on it. It was unexpected, like much of Marat's performance art and, cruel as it was, everyone still laughed.

Women love him and more emotionally reticent men - most of us - live vicariously through him. He says what he thinks, does as he pleases and gets the girls. Wilander reckoned the frustration was born of his rare, once in a decade (well, twice, considering Federer), talent.

"I think it must be frustrating when you've heard everybody tell you that you're one of the most talented players ever, but 'Would you get your head put on properly'. That's tough to hear. It's a lot easier to hear you've got a shitty second serve. How do you work on your head?"

Lundgren's successful partnership with Safin has worked precisely because the coach has focused primarily on his head, rather than his topspin or slice.

Goran Ivanisevic, to whom Safin is often compared - not for tennis styles - found it hard to deal with the "three Gorans" in the course of his Wimbledon final.

In Melbourne, we have been privileged to have hosted the four Marats: the tanker of 2000; the immature, hedonistic Marat (2002) who lost to Thomas Johansson; the tired and fatigued Marat, who knocked off Andre Agassi (2004) but had nothing left; and now the mature, level-headed, but ever amusing Marat.

"I played here against Johansson, I didn't have enough experience," Safin said yesterday. "I mean, last year, I had no chance at all because I was completely burned out. This year, already I have experience of playing two finals. I had a good year last year, coming off from the injury."

Lundgren added: "It's his third time now, I think it's time for him to win it. It just feels like it's his turn now."

So destiny faces a tough choice. Do the tennis fates succumb to the irresistible Australian warrior, on the cow pad court he's cursed and kissed? Or to the two-time Russian bridesmaid, whose tumultuous affair with the Australian Open has included a tank (round one, 2000) and two failures on the final day (2002, 2004).

Marat thinks he's destiny's child this time. "Yeah, I believe in the destiny . . . you know, destiny, I will be in the final third time, supposedly I have to win. But no, I just think everything what happened before to me, it had to happen. I really believe in that.