Murray matriarch holds court in Auckland
Former elite coach and Britain’s most famous tennis mum is out to inspire change, writes Dana Johannsen.
Gliding around the pigeon poop-speckled tennis courts of the Manukau Sports Centre, Judy Murray is in her element.
The former elite coach and Britain’s most famous tennis mum is holding court with about 40 parents, coaches and community leaders in south Auckland, showing them fun and practical ways to get kids to engage with tennis.
There’s not a tennis ball in sight. Rather the equipment bag is full of balloons, scarves and beanie bags. Between each activity Murray sounds a novelty horn, quickly moving on to demonstrating the next skill.
Murray – a woman who was for many years cast by the British tabloids as the dour, humourless, clench-jawed mother to Scottish stars Andy and Jamie – is warm, charismatic and funny. She had won the group over within the first 30 seconds of her opening spiel.
It is here, connecting with the workforce on the ground, Murray feels she can make the most difference.
Since stepping down as Britain’s Federation Cup captain (essentially a coach/manager role) in 2016, the 60-year-old has thrown herself into working in the grassroots space.
She was in Auckland this week to speak at a Tennis NZ coaches conference, but with New Zealand’s premier tournament, the ASB Classic, bringing the WTA Tour to town, Murray has been able to neatly fold in the promotion of several causes she is passionate about – bringing sport to deprived communities, making tennis fun and accessible for all, and encouraging more women coaches.
There was a time when Murray would never have considered putting herself ‘‘out there’’ in this way. One of only a few female coaches at the elite end, Murray found the male-dominated environment at sports conferences and seminars a daunting experience. She would quietly sit at the back of the room, and wouldn’t venture to answer a question.
‘‘I certainly wouldn’t have had the confidence to do this 10 years ago,’’ she says.
It was frustration with the tennis establishment that ultimately spurred Murray on to taking up her first speaking opportunity in 2010. Earlier that year the International Tennis Federation (ITF) had announced its new board, with all 14 of the appointees men. Murray was livid. She bailed up an acquaintance at the ITF and expressed her disgust. Her friend explained that of ITF’s 211 member nations, none had put a woman forward for nomination to the international board.
In the good-natured debate that followed about the lack of women in visible leadership roles in tennis, Murray herself was gently chastised for turning down invites to speak at conferences.
‘‘He was right, I was always going ‘oh no, I couldn’t possibly’. So he basically signed me up then and there. I made myself do it because in all the years that I attended coaching conferences and workshops around the world, I never once listened to a female coach. Occasionally there were women sports scientists – usually on the nutrition side – but coaches, never. It was always guys,’’ she says.
‘‘I was so nervous to do it and I don’t think I slept for about three days leading up to it. I felt physically ill. But I made myself do it, and I survived. I don’t know if I was any good or not, but I survived.’’
‘‘I’ve always been that type of person that when I do something, I always evaluate it. I will always go back – I’ll do it the same today – and say ‘oh I forgot to do that, I should have done this, that could have been a bit better’. And so I evaluated what I did and I used the time while I was there to listen to some of the other presentations and watch what people did that I thought was good, what people did that I didn’t think was so good – and you start to find a way that works for you.’’
For a woman so hyper self-aware, Murray’s rise to notoriety alongside her sons and the endless scrutiny she endured must have been excruciating. She was presented as the pushy, over-competitive tennis mum, who had trained her children from birth to become tennis superstars – a portrayal she gets ‘‘prickly’’ about. Andy was a promising young footballer, while Jamie, who became world No 1 in doubles at the same time Andy held down the top ranking in the men’s singles, was top junior golfer.
‘‘You get thrown into the spotlight all of sudden, probably around Wimbledon 2005 when Andy made the third round as a scrawny teenager and it was completely unexpected, so for all of us it was a real rude awakening.
‘‘I think that right from the start the media portrayed me as the ultimate pushy mum. All the pictures of me that they would use in the press would be like this [theatrically demonstrates fist pump], so I did look aggressive, perhaps a little demented,’’ she jokes.
‘‘But they decided that’s what I was going to be – the pushy parent, the nightmare mother and all the rest of it.
That was really hard to deal with. I used to read everything, I never used to comment, I never did interviews, I never retaliated in anyway at all, but it really was an eyeopener to me on the nature of it all.’’
In more recent years, Murray has found her voice and carved out her own identity. She has started her own foundation to address health inequality in the UK’s poorest communities by promoting sport in deprived areas.
Murray, who had a brief stint as a professional player in the 1970s, is also passionate about promoting tennis at grassroots level at home in Scotland, and since 2012 has taken the sport to the people with her programme Tennis On The Road. Murray says she hates the idea that tennis is seen as an ‘‘elite’’ sport for the rich. Then there is Murray’s ‘Miss Hits’ programme – a course designed for girls.
Given Murray’s philosophies align with many of the WTA’s own ambitions, she has been able to broaden her reach beyond Scotland to other parts of the world through the WTA’s ‘Come Play’ initiative.
She’s been prepared to take on the tennis establishment, too. In her book, Knowing The Score, Murray detailed her experiences trying to forge out a career as a tennis coach, and gain resources and support for her players.
More recently she has taken a stand against sexism in the sport, and spoken out about the abuse of teenage girls in women’s tennis.
Against this background it is of little surprise that Andy, too, has used his platform as a multiple grand slam winner and double Olympic champion to rally against sexism.
Following his 2017 quarterfinal exit to Sam Querrey at Wimbledon, Andy was famously asked by a journalist what he thought about Querrey being the first American player to reach a major semifinal since 2009.
‘‘Male player,’’ Andy corrected, reminding the journalist he was overlooking the fact that Serena Williams had won 12 grand slams in that time period.
He remains one of the few top men’s tennis players to employ a female coach, Amelie Mauresmo, who he worked with from 2014-2016, and has earned praise from several top athletes on the WTA tour, including Serena Williams, for speaking up for women’s rights.
Murray says she has no doubt her experiences have rubbed off on her son, but Andy’s views are his own.
‘‘We’re all products of our environment and our experiences, and he grew up through tennis with a mum who was the coach at the local tennis club, albeit I was a volunteer, but I ran all tennis activities for the kids, then I became the coach of the district, then I became the national coach, so he was used to having women in a key role in tennis,’’ she says.
‘‘But yeah, I’m very proud of him. It makes a big difference when he speaks out on behalf of the women – I wish more of the men would do that. It is sad that it makes more of an impact when a man speaks out about women’s issues, but that’s the way it is.’’
She hopes though, in time, that won’t be the way it is.
‘‘I think that right from the start the media portrayed me as the ultimate pushy mum.’’