Hanging up his racquet ...but best is yet to come

THERE are few things more heartbreaking than watching a grown man break down in public. Particularly one who has been a hero to millions. In the early hours of yesterday, Sir Andy Murray, all 6ft 2in of him, sat sobbing, with his head in his hands, as he announced his imminent retirement from tennis. I doubt there was a dry eye in the house.

Many years ago, a former colleague recalled interviewing a recalcitrant, teenage Sir Andy just as his name was starting to gain traction on the tennis circuit. Apparently he was so rude he kept headphones in the entire time.

What a journey it has been for him. From grumpy teen to national icon, a Grand Slam champion who has become an ally of the feminist movement and spoken out on social equality. Can you believe it?

There are, of course, his astounding array of professional achievements.

Two Olympic gold medals and that US Open win. He became the first British man to win Wimbledon for 76 years and the first Scot for more than a century, then won it again three years later. You don’t get too many of them to the pound.

Yet I can’t help but think that, impressive and unprecedented as these wins are, what will eventually matter most about Sir Andy is his legacy. For, as far as I can see, it is one that stretches far beyond the realms of sport.

Here is a man who is the living embodiment of hard work, fierce determination and an unwillingness to quit even under the most monumental pressure.

Yes, he is worth a fortune, but if I had to sit in an ice bath for an hour every day I’d want to be, too. I don’t begrudge him a penny of his prize wins.

He has worked hard to promote tennis in Scotland, campaigned for more courts in deprived areas and has taken time out of the professional circuit to coach young players.

He is an inspiration to thousands of children who dream of one day playing Centre Court at Wimbledon, and has revived the sport in Scotland, although there is still much to be done.

Then there is his role as a feminist (yes, really), constantly reminding others that women are just as talented as men in the sport and refusing to see them as anything less than equals.

‘I don’t think there’s a woman player – and there really shouldn’t be a female athlete – that is not totally supportive of Andy Murray,’ Serena Williams said recently. ‘He has spoken up for women’s issues and women’s rights, especially in tennis, for ever.’

This stuff matters, now perhaps more than ever. Sir Andy, unlikely as it may seem for a Scotsman of few words, has been a trailblazer for equality.

Then there is his legacy regarding Dunblane, a Stirlingshire town hit by an unspeakable tragedy that has left an indelible mark. In Sir Andy, the community has found a way to heal, to regain its pride.

In one profoundly moving moment on TV yesterday, a young boy stood in the gym of Dunblane Primary School and said how proud he was to be a pupil there, because that’s where Sir Andy Murray went to school.

If he is a Marmite character to some, it is perhaps because he embodies so many qualities of our small nation. Thrawn. Competitive. Chippy. A big heart underneath the hard-edged dourness and a generosity of spirit that is evident in everything he does.

He is, without a doubt, one of the good guys, an intriguing mix of deadset determination and modesty.

His Twitter bio, in a world where most professional sportspeople are falling over themselves to list their many accolades, has always delighted me. It says, simply, ‘I play tennis’.

UNLIKE so many men in the public eye, he has let us see into his soul: those tears of sadness at Wimbledon in 2012 when he didn’t quite make it, the tears of joy when he did, yesterday’s raw display of emotion at no longer being able to compete in the sport he loves.

Although I am desperately sad that we will lose him from the competitive circuit, may never again be able to cheer him from our sitting rooms in a Wimbledon final, paint our cheeks with Saltires and yell ‘come on Andy!’ loud enough to frighten the dog, I am excited to see what he does next.

This is not a man who will rest on his considerable laurels, lolling around in retirement eating chips and taking on the odd commentating job. He has a commitment to sport, to Scotland, to equality, to Dunblane. The work ethic we have seen since he was a teenager could do extraordinary things.

Tennis champ Billie Jean King, who has had a superb campaigning career since retirement, sent a tweet to Sir Andy yesterday, stating: ‘Remember to look to the future. Your greatest impact on the world may be yet to come.’

I think she might just be right.