After a fortnight in Melbourne that largely ambled along in orderly fashion, semi-final Friday finally supplied the sort of chaos and drama the Australian Open fancies as its trademark.

The afternoon session began with Carlos Alcaraz and Alexander Zverev producing a five-set epic that lurched from the sublime to the faintly surreal. Alcaraz, visibly ailing, at one stage retched courtside yet somehow found the reserves to claw his way back and edge through 7-5 in the fifth. It was the kind of match that felt destined to be filed under “character-building” for the champion-in-waiting.

If that was the warm-up, the evening’s headliner refused to be overshadowed. Jannik Sinner and Novak Djokovic delivered a bruising, four-hour and five-minute contest that did not conclude until 1.45am local time. There, under the lights and the lingering humidity, Djokovic served out yet another chapter in his extraordinary Melbourne story, reaching an 11th Australian Open final at the age of 38.

We are long past the point where his endurance should surprise anyone, yet the relentlessness remains remarkable. Far from fading, his game appears to be maturing with a sommelier’s inevitability: ageing, quite evidently, like a particularly well-cellared bottle.

The UK broadcast has, for the most part, matched the quality on court. TNT Sports’ coverage, anchored from outside the court, has felt comfortingly familiar since the rights shifted from Eurosport last summer. In practice, little has changed — and that is largely to its credit. The format, the pacing and even much of the tone are near carbon copies of its predecessor.

At the heart of it is Laura Robson, whose easy authority and unforced charm continue to grow with every major. Described, not entirely inaccurately, as the most English of roses, she has proven adept at steering viewers through the small hours: calm without being sedate, playful without lapsing into in-jokes, and more than capable of keeping order alongside Tim Henman’s ever-so-gently donnish “educated uncle” persona.

The TNT balcony has been enriched by an eclectic supporting cast. Jamie Murray has slotted in seamlessly, offering the sort of doubles insight that television has long struggled to articulate, while Coco Vandeweghe has been an astute and refreshingly forthright addition. The occasional forays from the ESPN contingent lend an international polish, and the TNT commentary team has kept pace with the tone: measured, informed and generally content to let the tennis take centre stage.

If there is a regret, it lies in the talent left behind. Barbara Schett, long one of Eurosport’s standouts, remains with the continental arm and The Tennis Channel, leaving UK viewers to nurse a faint sense of loss. Her mix of authority and warmth would have fitted the new-old set-up perfectly.

Roaming more freely across the global feed is Jim Courier, whose post-match on-court interviews have again divided opinion. The questions — “How do you feel?”, “What does this mean to you?” — can, at this stage, feel formulaic to the point of parody, and the exchanges occasionally tip into the excruciating. Yet it would be unfair to reduce Courier’s contribution to those few minutes under the stadium lights. In the studio and commentary box his presence has been consistently sharp: dryly funny, quick with an off-the-cuff remark and more than willing to lob the odd verbal grenade in the direction of Henman and Robson as he ducks out of the ESPN booth.

On Friday night, Djokovic himself took over the role of entertainer once the tennis was done, announcing with a grin that the crowd had certainly had their money’s worth — and, by extension, so had the millions watching at home. He was not wrong. Across Alcaraz’s marathon and his own, spectators were treated to roughly nine and a half hours of elite-level, nerve-shredding tennis.

At one point, Djokovic joked about being entitled to ten per cent of the takings. On this evidence, few would begrudge him the cut. Between his stamina, Alcaraz’s resilience and a broadcast team that has managed to blend familiarity with a few well-judged new notes, Australia’s long day and longer night of tennis felt like a proper occasion.

All of which leaves the tournament poised beautifully for the weekend. Two compelling finals await: the women on Saturday morning for British viewers, the men on Sunday. After semi-final Friday delivered so handsomely, the advice is simple enough. Set the alarm, put the kettle on and settle in. The Australian Open, at last, is fully awake.