Murray’s spirit, fitness and tactics made him a legend
ANDY MURRAY’S finest triumph on the tennis courts of the world was to twice win Wimbledon in a captivating era of tennis, and in doing so break the worst jinx of British sport. It places him high in the pantheon of our sporting firmament, up alongside legends like Bobby Charlton, Ian Botham and Sebastian Coe.
He is a rare treasure – but when we reflect on a playing career that may end tomorrow we should also celebrate something else which has made Murray extra special.
That is the authentic character he always showed us – another precious jewel so little seen amid the corporative sensitivity of tightly packaged modern sport.
When Murray was in a mood he sulked and cursed for all to see, even though he knew it could often be counter-productive to his tennis.
When Murray was in agony he winced and groaned.
When Murray touched the peaks of joy and grief he cried natural tears, whether it was on Centre Court after winning Wimbledon (far right) or the press conference the other day where he announced his impending retirement.
For a long time this authenticity made him a misunderstood sportsman, doubted and mistrusted and unloved by the general public and even a portion of tennis fans.
It was a raging pity – and overcome only by sustained success at Wimbledon and an eventual widespread appreciation of his personality helped by a TV documentary that showed his witty, genial nature away from heat of the action.
Murray didn’t play to the gallery – he played to win.
He had a huge heart, phenomenal fitness and a brilliant tactical brain on court. There are three cornerstones to sport, whether it’s an individual or a team game – spirit, fitness and tactics.
Put them all together and you have the chance to be a champion.
Murray has without doubt been a mighty champion, competing in the most demanding and most thrilling age of tennis against Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic, all at their peak.
That is the context to winning three Grand Slams, including the US Open in 2012, plus two Olympic titles, and becoming ranked world No1.
At the heart of it all was a sheer love of playing tennis. That is why he was so emotional in Melbourne when he announced that a long-term hip injury is forcing him to quit the sport. He had battled for so long – not just enduring the trauma of major operations, but the unseen eternal physical and mental grind of recovery work.
For such an Everest of effort to end in failure is the grimmest result.
I first saw Murray playing as a gangly youngster at the Queen’s Club tournament before Wimbledon in 2005. His potential was obvious, but you had to wonder whether his body would be strong enough for the rigours of professional tennis.
The kid made sure it was. Incessant work and strength of character took him all the way to becoming the first British man to triumph on Centre Court since Fred Perry in the 1930s – giving the curse the big KO.
Murray hopes to play at Wimbledon one last time this summer. It would be an emotional farewell to trump any other and he deserves it, if possible.
What we can be certain of is that he won’t fade into the background when official retirement comes. He is not that kind of man. He will want to be active, involved, and not just as a TV commentator.
Andy Murray has all the attributes to be an outstanding coach and maybe, just maybe, there is a kid out there good enough to benefit from the very best of men.