Self-belief... and a short fuse
HE is widely regarded as Britain’s greatest ever sportsman, but Sir Andy Murray’s greatness lies, at least in part, in his unlikely story. A gawky kid with a pipe cleaner physique from a country with a tennis pedigree akin to that of Jamaica’s for the four-man bobsleigh, he dared to dream of confounding decades of low expectations.
The real magic is that he achieved it. Three Grand Slams – including two Wimbledon titles – two Olympic golds, the Davis Cup and a knighthood are a remarkable haul by any standards.
It helped, of course, that he was the son of Judy Murray, who played a bit in her day and went on to be a tennis coach. It helped, too, that he was the younger brother, by 15 months, of a certain Jamie Murray, who could also play a bit.
The first-born was bigger and stronger, which meant his brother had to work harder, dig deeper, to win. Few doubt that sibling rivalry was a key factor in turning Andrew Barron Murray into the ruthless, determined competitor he became.
The darkest episode in Sir Andy’s childhood – the murderous attack on his primary school in Dunblane, Perthshire, in 1996 – may even have had some psychological bearing on how he turned out.
Undoubtedly, he has done more through his sporting triumphs than any other individual to erase that deeply ingrained stain from the name of his home town. For that reason alone, its citizens should – and do – feel nothing but enormous pride in their famous son today.
It was in this cathedral city of 8,000 souls that the journey to greatness began, where he and Jamie lived 200 yards from the nearest tennis club and would race down with their junior racquets from the age of four.
By the time they were eight and nine, their mother was Scotland’s national tennis coach, ferrying groups of children to tournaments across the country. It is hardly surprising that Jamie and Andy were talented enough at the game to be among them.
Jamie would later recall: ‘Mum was never a crazy tennis parent. She wasn’t like that. She was always coaching and we’d go along. It was inevitable we would get interested.’
Their parents would separate before the boys’ teenage years, yet both still saw plenty of their father Willie, a former footballer, who would take his sons golfing and play football with them.
Young Andy had some talent for football and briefly considered following in the footsteps of his father and the other professional footballer in the family, his maternal grandfather, Roy Erskine.
In the end, tennis won out. And it was not long before the Murray children were streets ahead of their peers. Jamie had the upper hand at first, but the balance of power shifted during their teens.
Blessed with near-superhuman levels of self-belief, it was the younger sibling who would go on to star in the toughest of all eras in men’s singles tennis.
Dominated by three of the finest players to have ever graced the sport – Federer, Nadal and Djokovic – he would force his way into the reckoning by a dazzling combination of willpower and skill.
Young Andy’s determination to get the better of his brother fuelled his competitive instincts which, even in childhood, were ferocious.
The brothers’ grandmother, Shirley Erskine, said: ‘Andy has always been competitive at every game he ever played. When he was a child, the snakes and ladders board would end up tipped up on the floor if he wasn’t winning.’
By the time Sir Andy was 12, he knew all about Novak Djokovic and Rafa Nadal – both foreign players of a similar age to himself who, like him, were running out of opponents in their own country who could compete with them.
But it was not until Sir Andy was 15 that his flourishing talent finally prompted a move from home and conventional education.
He had been offered a place at a British tennis academy in London, but Sir Andy had other ideas.
He begged his mother to let him attend the Sanchez-Casal school in Barcelona, where his friend Nadal was training.
‘He trains with Carlos Moya [then the world number one]. Who have I got to play with – you and my brother,’ he told her. ‘I wanna go and train in Spain.’
He had to rough it in a cramped, wooden bungalow fewer than 100 metres from the red-dirt courts and endure a punishing fitness and practise regime, but it was the best move of his early career.
By 18, he was the junior US champion and number 375 in the world, but the famously shy Scot was characteristically wary of the growing attention. In a rare interview at the time of his junior Grand Slam win, he said: ‘I was treated like a superstar after the US Open. I didn’t want that.
‘I just wanted to be treated like everyone else. One of the reasons I came here was because no one can reach me. I can concentrate on my tennis here. Otherwise, it would be quite easy to get side-tracked if people are talking about you all the time and comparing you to Tim Henman.’
Such pleas to be left alone seemed less likely to be heeded, however, after the 2005 Stella Artois Championships – Wimbledon’s traditional curtain-raiser. He
came within two points of beating world number 20 Thomas Johansson in the third round before cramp and an ankle injury intervened.
Pundits talked excitedly of a future champion in the making – a new McEnroe with a similar wild thatch of curls and shortfuse temper and the same uncanny knack of making impossible returns.
Progress through the ranks remained swift. In 2006, he won his first ATP Tour title and replaced Tim Henman as British No 1. He was in the world top ten before his 20th birthday. But the success that really matters for the tennis elite – a Grand Slam – eluded him for another five years.
Critics feared he did not have the physique to last a whole championship, so Sir Andy knuckled down in the gym and upped his training.
Along the way, a succession of coaches, including the legendary Brad Gilbert, were sacked without sentiment.
But throughout his battles, two women have remained steadfast as courtside cheerleaders – his mother and his girlfriend, now wife, Kim Sears. The artist daughter of a British tennis coach, Nigel Sears, Miss Sears, now 31, met her future husband in 2005 and has been his almost constant companion during a courtship that led to marriage and two children.
Her steadying influence helped this sometimes surly sounding teenager mature into a more rounded character, who even allows himself the occasional smile in public.
YET the focus remained on winning. After losing the 2008 US Open to Federer, a string of Grand Slam final failures left Sir Andy searching for that final piece of the coaching jigsaw to push him over the line.
It came in the unlikely shape of an eight-time Grand Slam champion, Ivan Lendl.
A convert to golf, the famously unsmiling Czech allowed himself to be prised away from the greens in 2011 to harness Sir Andy’s grit.
It proved a perfect fit. In 2012, Sir Andy reached the Wimbledon final only to come up against an inspired Federer.
The tears which flowed on Centre Court as the Scot tried to thank the crowd for their support through this, his most successful yet agonising Grand Slam campaign to date, did much to endear him to tennis fans who had long sniffed at his supposedly dour personality.
Later that summer, again at SW19, he dismantled the same opponent in straight sets to take gold at the London Olympics.
Leading sports psychologist Dr Phil Jauncey said that
victory over Federer in the Olympics was the turning point. It was then, he said, Sir Andy finally ‘got the monkey off his back’.
As if to prove it, he claimed that year’s US Open, beating Novak Djokovic in New York in a five-set epic, finishing close to midnight, and becoming the first British man since Fred Perry in 1936 to win a singles slam title.
The whole of Dunblane turned out to welcome their hero home and a postbox was painted gold in honour of his Olympic win.
IN 2013, he went one better at Wimbledon, ending the 76-year wait for a British champion with a straightsets demolition of Djokovic. Amid scenes of unbridled celebration, it was clear the nation had a new sporting favourite.
As if to reinforce the point, who could forget his glorious lob over Belgian David Goffin to secure the Davis Cup for Britain in 2015 – the UK’s first win in the competition since 1936?
Sponsors sought him out. He left Adidas in 2015 to sign a £15million contract with the US sports equipment manufacturer Under Armour and has agreements with Jaguar, Standard Life and racquet maker Head.
Success continued. He would lift the Wimbledon trophy for a second time in 2016, defeating big-serving Canadian Milos Raonic at a canter in three sets.
Later that summer, he retained his Olympic title against Juan Martin del Potro in Rio de Janeiro, the first man or woman to ever win consecutive singles tennis golds. He won the lucrative end-of-season ATP Tour title at London’s O2 Arena and ended the year as world number one.
More accolades would follow as the three-time winner of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year award was granted a knighthood for services to sport and charity in the 2017 New Year Honours.
By then, he had married Miss Sears – at 12th century Dunblane Cathedral in March 2015, surrounded by friends and family.
Cheering crowds gathered to welcome him and his brother, Jamie – who reinvented himself as a successful doubles player.
Sir Andy wore a handmade kilt in Murray of Elibank ancient tartan, apparently on the orders of his Essex-born bride.
Talking before the wedding, he insisted he was not nervous, saying: ‘We’ve been together like nine-and-a-half years and we’ve lived together for six or seven. So, I don’t think a whole lot’s going to change. I kind of feel like we have been married already in terms of the way we spend our lives together and live together.
‘I will be more nervous about starting a family because that would be more life-changing.’
They shunned a glitzy wedding and reportedly turned down a seven-figure magazine deal.
Following the service guests – including Tim Henman, the former British number one who arrived with his wife, Lucy, and three children – attended a private reception at nearby Cromlix Hotel. Murray bought the five-star venue for £1.8million in 2013, spending several million more renovating it.
Dunblane’s shops were decorated in tribute to the couple, while his Olympic postbox had a fresh coat of gold paint.
Lesley Ann Anderson, owner of the Point Nouveau bridal shop, summed up the buoyant mood that day: ‘They are nice people. They get involved in everything.’ But along with the highs, there have been lows – the five final defeats in the Australian Open and Sir Andy’s only French Open final appearance where he lost again to Djokovic.
Then there were the injuries. Back surgery ended his 2013 season early, while his hip was already starting to give him gyp.
In 2017, when he limped out of Wimbledon after losing to Sam Querrey in the quarters, it was clear drastic remedy was needed.
Hip surgery followed early last year but has failed to fix the problem. Further operations may be required just to give him some quality of life back, but a return to top-flight tennis now seems a distant hope. He has been forced to quit by the ridiculously high standards and punishing training regimes he imposed on himself in his drive to the top.
The will to win remains but the body is too weak to obey. Announcing his reluctant retirement, he had to leave the room briefly to compose himself.
THE trigger for his tearful early exit can only be guessed at. Maybe it was the unrelenting pain from that right hip or, perhaps, it was a twinge of regret that he may already have lifted his last Grand Slam trophy.
When the eyes finally dry, however, he may wish to look back at his extraordinary achievements during his professional career.
At only 31 and ranked 230 in the world, injury may have robbed him of his brilliance and condemned him to spend the next six months just one match away from hanging up his racquet.
With 45 career titles and an £83million fortune, Sir Andy may have to content himself with a life away from tennis.
No less a figure than 39 Grand Slam winner Billie Jean King urged him to look to the future, saying: ‘Your greatest impact on the world may be yet to come.’
When he takes a final bow, Sir Andy has a family and business interests to keep him occupied.
The couple are based in a mansion in the Surrey village of Oxshott, and share their home with two daughters, Sophia, two, and year-old Edie, and border terriers Maggie May and Rusty.
Maggie May even has her own Twitter account, with more than 30,000 followers. By contrast, Sir Andy rarely uses his page, on which he describes himself in three words: ‘I play tennis’.
It seems even this modest description will soon have to be changed.