The Wimbledon greats never fade. They come back in nicely pressed shirts (and, in Boris Becker’s case, nicely pressed hair) and talk to Sue Barker about it all in a glass-backed studio. And so it is that Tim Henman, at 33, one year after he left the All England Club in a courtesy car for the last time as a player, now glides back in a corporation-funded minicab to join the BBC’s commentary team.

He will find himself the novice in a dauntingly competitive dressing-room, stuffed with former champions who have written whole chapters in the history of the Championships and then in the history of talking about them — Becker, John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Pat Cash. Even so, Henman can hold his head high. He’s the only one with his own hill.

Plus he’s Tim Henman — Wimbledon legend. We say as much without irony. No, he didn’t win it, but check out his record: four times a semi-finalist, four times a quarter-finalist. And this despite coming from Britain, which is, in professional tennis terms, the definition of crawling from a tiny, airless cave. Yet the fact that, for two weeks each year, a certain sector of middle-class England put on a Union Jack jester’s hat and went all a-twitter for “Timbo” was ritually turned against him. Wildly unfair.

Still, this new job gives him the chance to have, if not the last word, then at least some later words. As a BBC executive, announcing Henman’s appointment, put it: “The success, drama and passion he experienced at Wimbledon has created a unique connection with both the Championships and British tennis fans.” Quite so, though now the real challenges come. It was one thing for Henman to try to fight a way past Goran Ivanisevic, with public expectation stacked to giddying and, frankly, unhelpful heights on his shoulders. But can he see out a 50-minute rain break on the second Tuesday, with John Inverdale?

Only the upcoming fortnight will tell, but the omens are promising. The last time Henman was on television, he was in the middle of a posse of tracksuited Chinese heavies, ushering the Olympic torch up Ladbroke Grove, West London. If you have the persistence and the physical wherewithal to keep a flame alight while some of the UK’s finest freelance political agitators are letting off fire extinguishers in the vicinity of your ear, the chances are you may even be able to get a word in edgeways in a televised conversation with McEnroe.

One thing we know: Henman won’t carry into the commentary box the frustrated longing of someone who wishes he was still out there on the circuit. In a recent interview, he claimed that he had picked up a racket only three times since September. “I never envisaged how much I’d enjoy being at home, with the kids, playing loads of golf,” he said. (There’s a mild contradiction in that sentence, as phrased, but we’ll let it pass.)

He also made a prediction. “No one knew the real me. When I’m working in front of the camera, you’ll see me in a different light. People will be surprised to learn that I’ve got a sense of humour.”

And maybe some will be surprised, though it was readily apparent to anyone who ever witnessed Henman in a press conference. Last year at Wimbledon, a journalist tried to spoon-feed him a line. “Would you say you were playing for those people on the hill as well?” To which Henman replied: “Go on then, yeah. Do you want a direct quote? I was playing for those people on the hill.” If he can tap into that layer of dark satire every now and again, he may bring the BBC’s coverage — which can become a little gloopy with sentiment — some edge.

He will need to watch his language, of course. Shock abounded in 2005 when Henman was heard to urge the Centre Court crowd, “Come on — ****. Make more ****ing noise.” Later, he appeared to urge the umpire to sort out the ballboys. “Tell them to get their heads out of their arses and get me a Coke.” It caused his new employer to issue a solemn apology. “Swearing was broadcast live, and the BBC would like to apologise for any offence caused.”

Was this not the face of a leading brand of washing powder? The whiter-than-white patron saint of summertime television? It showed how little we knew the real Henman, and the failure of the audience at the Sports Personality of the Year show last year to give him a standing ovation when he led a parade of retiring stars was a black moment in the history of due appreciation. After all that Henman achieved? And given the context in which he achieved it? Make some ****ing noise.

“You’ll miss him,” one found oneself muttering, “when Wimbledon comes around and he’s not there.” But Wimbledon has come around and he is there. It’s something. And at the risk of raising some mixed memories: “Come on, Tim.”

Court coverage

Sue Barker will present live coverage on BBC One and BBC Two. Today at Wimbledon, the daily highlights show, will be presented by John Inverdale on BBC Two at 8.00pm each weekday and will be available for seven days on BBC iPlayer.

Simon Mayo, Mark Pougatch and Clare Balding present daily coverage on Radio 5 Live, starting at 12.30pm each weekday.