Aidan Smith
By
It is probably the first piece of considered comment ever uttered about the strokeplay of Sir Andy Murray. Not yet knighted, not yet a Grand Slam champ and, crivvens, very possibly not yet seven years old – he’d just demolished a boy three years his senior.
“This was a tournament in Dunblane or maybe Stirling,” says Colin Fleming. “I wasn’t the only older boy who lost to him around that time and we all used to say the same thing: ‘ That Andy Murray – he’s just a hacker’.”
Fleming smiles at the memory of those early encounters with his friend, future doubles partner and Davis Cup team- mate. What did the term mean in this case? Obviously nothing to do with being crafty with computers or dirty at football or rubbish at golf – and, as was painfully apparent to Fleming, this interpretation didn’t apply either: “hacker – a person who engages in an activity without talent or skill.”
“Andy was six or seven and his brother Jamie was seven or eight and we were probably all at the same level,” he continues. “Actually no: these two were already phenomenal.” Okay, but hacker – does he want one more go at trying to explain it? “Well, Andy used to moon- ball us to death. He’d loop these shots high in the air and they’d be impos
ON A YOUNG ANDY MURRAY
“Andy used to moonball us to death. He’d loop these shots high in the air and they’d be impossible for small
boys to return”
sible for small boys to return. Even at that age he had this amazing tactical nous which enabled him to make life on the court difficult if not downright impossible for his opponents. Essentially that’s still what his tennis is about now.”
Notice how Fl eming uses t he present tense. He doesn’t think we’ve seen the last of the hacker. For him, though, it’s mostly commentating and coaching now, though you’ll find this stalwart of Scottish tennis and a dab hand at doubles still scudding a ball on the veterans’ circuit, next up at this month’s Brodies Invitational at Gleneagles.
“Events l i ke t hese are massively enjoyable,” he says. “You turn up and play relaxed, which is the state of mind you craved but never fully achieved as a professional. All that stress and pressure, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the pro game: the butterflies before a big match, the exhilaration of battling through tough moments and being successful – you can’t ever replace that and I think all sportsmen would say the same.
“The Brodies has been brilliant, though. I’ve had the chance to play guys like Mark Philippoussis and Greg Rusedski, which was a level at singles I was never quite able to reach.” From Gleneagles, the 34- year- old will move on to the Doubles Invitational at Wimbledon where the comparison between past and present ment tal states will be even more pronounced. “Looking back at my career there I was just a bag of nerves really. Even after the fifth, sixth, seventh time of competing I was the s same. Wimbledon is where all your hopes and dreams lie.” And often die.
Who woul d p l ay t h i s infernal game? And who would e ven at t e mpt t o play it on a day like today in Bridge of Allan? June beckons but the town where we’ve met for a coffee is getting a proper soaking. Once again it’s a day to be amazed that Scotland produced any tennis talent at all. Fleming reflects: he was born in 1984, Jamie in ’ 86 and Andy the year after. Then at the start of the following decade, Stirling University got four indoor courts. “That was the key to it all, the hub of ever ything, with Judy [ Murray] as national coach. Without some kind of indoor facilities I don’t think anything would have happened.” Now the uni becomes home to a fully- fledged tennis academy, LTA- backed and dedicated to moulding the elite players of tomorrow. It opens for business in September and Fleming will coach there and continue to fulfil the same role with Britain’s Fed Cup team.
Fleming grew up next door to Linlithgow Tennis Club and reckons he started tagging along with his father, dragging a racket behind him, at the age of three. Tennis wasn’t all that was passed down the line: there’s also Partick Thistle. This isn’t a deliberately eccentric choice of football team; the old man is a Maryhill native. Thus, from Delhi to Delray, Fleming has circumnavigated the globe for his chosen sport, telling anyone who was interested and some who weren’t all about the great and glorious Jags. “Most people, when I mention Thistle, go: ‘ Who?’” he laughs. But isn’t technology wonderful? “Sitting in an airport far away I can stream their matches or keep up to date with the chat on the Firhill for Thrills Whatsapp group. My dad and big brother have season tickets but I’ve got a young family and am still busy with tennis and so don’t get to many matches. My kids are four and two and I don’t think my wife would thank me for inflicting Thistle on them right now.”
The Delray Beach Open in Florida was one of eight ATP wins at doubles achieved by Fleming, while Delhi was the scene of his gold medal triumph alongside Jocelyn Rae in mixed at the 2010 Commonwealth Games. The Scottish twosome defeated No 1 seeds Anastasia Rodionova and Paul Hanley to claim their prize, but not just the Aussies: “There were these bugs, as big as your voice recorder here. We’d sit down at the change of ends and they’d pounce on us. There wasn’t any effort to clear the courts of them because they were probably viewed as an advantage to the home nation.” True enough: that would be like Glasgow for the next Commy Games clearing the streets of its flaneurs, capable of delivering a “Hullo” which sounds like a threat. Local colour should always be preserved.
Fleming partnered both Andy and Jamie at doubles. Who did he prefer?
ON HIS SINGLES CAREER
“Everyone starts out trying to be successful at singles and I peaked at 359. Looking
back I probably wish I’d had more belief and given singles a couple more years
but I’ve no regrets”