Hewitt bullies Bolelli to set up bout with his old nemesis Federer

Lleyton Hewitt is the last man without an F in his name to win the men's singles title here, which seems so long ago that it is a surprise to be reminded that the Australian former world No 1 – who reached the fourth round yesterday with a comfortable 6-1, 6-3, 7-6 victory over the Italian Simone Bolelli – is still only 27. There are schoolchildren doing basic algebra, or basic shoplifting, depending on where you live, who weren't even born when the Wimbledon champion was someone not called Roger Federer. That also happens to be the name of the man Hewitt meets as his reward for beating Bolelli. Some reward.

Apart from Federer, Hewitt, whose win came in 2002, is the only Wimbledon champion in this year's men's draw. He also has more grass court titles than anyone else, the five-times champion apart, and even though his world ranking has slipped to 27th, and his seeding here to 20th, he was always likely to prove too strong for Bolelli, whom he demolished in the first round last year, 6-2, 6-2, 6-1. It is probably safe to say that the 22-year-old Italian won't be pinning up a picture of Hewitt when he gets home to Rome, except possibly to throw darts at.

If so, let us hope that he doesn't throw them back-handed, in which case he will miss. The Bolelli backhand was awful for much of this match, and the rest of his game was not massively better. He did well enough to reach the third round, having beaten the 15th seed Fernando Gonzalez, after three tie-breakers, in round two. On the other hand, his first-round opponent was Britain's Alex Bogdanovic, a perennial faller at Wimbledon's first hurdle.

Bolelli is Italy's No 2, which is not quite like being Britain's No 2, the aforesaid Bogdanovic. After all, what would we give to have a second-best player in the world's top 50? Bolelli stands at 46, with just enough of a pedigree to attract a large and hopeful Italian press corps yesterday, although their body language told a story as eloquent as the scoreboard. They slumped, they grimaced, they clapped their hands to their foreheads, they even muttered "Mamma mia!" as their man found la dolce vita distinctly elusive out on Court One. It was more a case of la vita è dura. Life is tough.

Hewitt started with two aces in a love game, first-serving notice of intent. Indeed, he won the first 13 points of the match, and the writing appeared to be on the wall – in fluorescent orange. Denied much in the way of excitement on the court, the crowd was compelled to find it elsewhere. There was a brief flurry of interest in a persistent car alarm, and there were always the incoming planes on the Heathrow flight path to count. It was almost a shame that there wasn't an errant pigeon to enjoy.

For even though Hewitt was playing splendidly, in a flat-track bully kind of way, it's only really fun to watch him when he's up against it, and agitated. When he hit a wonderful running pass to break Bolelli in the third game of the second set, he seemed to remember his responsibilities, dropping to one knee, pumping a fist, and screaming "Come on!", his face contorted with what looked like rage, but was probably concentration.

It was a wholly unnecessary explosion of emotion, but reassuring to see, all the same. Wimbledon wouldn't be Wimbledon without Hewitt, his hat on backwards, furiously pumping a fist. Meanwhile, his utter dominance continued; until Bolelli held serve to make it 4-3 in the second set, the Italian had trailed in every game of the match. It was a surprise to everyone, perhaps himself most of all, that he offered Hewitt more of a challenge in the third set. But when he double-faulted in the tie-break he was already 2-5 down, and Hewitt finished the match on the next point with a 121mph ace, then treated us to another "Come on!", even angrier than the first, before belting a ball out of the court in the general direction of Southfields tube station, doubtless thinking about the man he will face next, rather than the man he had just defeated.

As for Federer, he made even shorter work of his third-round match, disposing of the 31-year-old Frenchman Marc Gicquel in the straightest of straight sets, 6-3, 6-3, 6-1. Hewitt will surely provide a sterner test, but maybe not much sterner; Federer has a resounding record against him. However, the champion was keen to pay tribute afterwards. "It's always a challenge playing Lleyton," he said. "He's a great player, a guy I really enjoy watching as well. He's a great competitor. Yeah, we go back a long time. We played when we were 15, you know, for the first time against each other. Saved match point and won in the end. So we go way back. I think it's an intriguing match for both of us."

Similarly intriguing was Federer's admission that as a youngster he found winning on a football pitch, being able to celebrate with team-mates, more exhilarating than winning alone on a tennis court. "I'm not completely like the individual athlete," he said. He's been doing a good job of fooling us.

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