Andy Murray: In Praise of Effort and Achievement

The writer Christopher Hitchens abhorred idolatry and sport in equal measure. In a section from his memoir Hitch 22 he penned: ‘From (Martin Amis) I learned to accept that there are men to whom the outcome of sporting engagements is emotionally important. This is a test of masculinity, like some straight men’s fascination with lesbianism which I simply cannot seem to pass’. Despite being an unabashed admirer of The Hitch, the following will desecrate his memory due to it being a saccharine, partisan and borderline reverential description of the man who is my current favourite living sportsman. For this I can only apologise.

Sunday was the first time a British male had been able to claim more than one Wimbledon title since Fred Perry. Hopefully now we no longer need to invoke Perry as an almost mythological symbol of former glories. The new champion Andy Murray was nothing less than superb, even winning a point off an 147mph serve, the second fastest serve in Wimbledon history. It wasn’t that he won the point, it’s that he made it look routine, banal even. This should no longer be a surprise to us the British public given what he has already achieved in his career. There was an inevitability about this triumph. Ten years ago in this country we couldn’t dream of having even one winner of our home tournament to celebrate. Now it barely registers when the same man wins the title a second time.

I remember watching Andy Murray for the first time as a scrawny, lanky teenager in the second round of Wimbledon in 2005, bamboozling the then number 18 seed Radek Štěpánek. Besides winning the match comfortably, he was ludicrously creative in the way that he took apart a player vastly more experienced than himself. Using deft slices, drop shots and changes of pace he almost embarrassed the Czech veteran. Despite winning the junior United States open in 2004, I’d never heard of him at this point. From there he fought his way into the top 10 whilst still in his teens, which is a strong indicator of future success in major tournaments.

There were steady but perceptible incremental improvements over the next few years. Whether it be fitness or consistency of the depth of shot, he constantly improved his weaknesses and turned them into strengths. Highlights included his first masters 1000 title in 2008 in Cincinatti.* He reached his first grand slam final in New York in the same year, qualifying for the end of year finals in the process.

The following four years were to be the trial of Andy Murray. As the steady world number 4, he would continue to make semi-finals and the odd final at slams but couldn’t bring his the performances to these occasions that his talent deserved. He didn’t even win a set in the first three finals. Djokovic was to find a new level in 2011 and has barely relinquished the World No. 1 spot since. Murray and the rest of the field then, as now, struggle to keep up with him. The pressure from the press and the public was becoming almost unbearable. The ever annoying ‘will you win Wimbledon this year?’ question which had plagued Tim Henman for his entire career was now being inflicted on Murray. Most players who don’t win a slam by their 24th birthday rarely win one at all, so going into 2012 history was against him.

At the beginning of that year Andy Murray took on the infamously professional, machine-like legend of 1980s tennis Ivan Lendl as his coach. The reasoning behind this decision was that Murray struggled mentally to produce his best tennis in championship matches and Lendl potentially offered the key to unlocking Murray’s potential in high pressure moments. An interesting parallel between the two was that Lendl had also lost his first four slam finals. Despite losing in five sets to Novak Djokovic in the semi-final of the first slam of the year, the Australian Open , it was by far his best performance to date against his nearest rivals at slam level. It was clear the partnership was working.

The true breakthrough came at the Olympics. Murray had lost in the final of Wimbledon against the perennial darling of centre court, Roger Federer, not three weeks earlier. Murray used his superior fitness to knock the master onto his back and propel himself into hearts of the nation that had often struggled to warm to him. There was no looking back from there. US Open and Wimbledon triumphs were to follow in the next year, ending 77 years of hurt that the England football team is currently attempting to inflict on the nation.

(On a side note, I’ve never totally understood the Federer appeal. The patronising British part of me that supports the underdog never allowed me to appreciate the tedious inevitability of the Swiss man sweeping every title before him. He plays with grace, charm and elegance but he is universally liked (which I distrust) and almost never criticised (which I really distrust). If the crowds at Wimbledon had supported Murray like they did at the Olympics, we perhaps wouldn’t have had to wait so long for him to actually win at the All England Club.)

I have almost obsessively followed Andy Murray throughout his career. I have woken early to watch him swat aside also-rans in the early rounds in Australia and stayed up late to witness abject displays against such journeymen as the South African Kevin Anderson. Throughout my undergraduate degree I was vastly more adept at remembering set scores in early rounds of 500 events than I was at remembering which proteins agglomerate in Alzheimer’s disease. I remember matches such as those against Federer in Shanghai in 2010 and David Ferrer in Miami in 2013. These will be forgotten among his seemingly greater achievements in the Davis Cup and at Wimbledon but accumulate to show what a superb athlete he is.

The last two great hopes of British tennis Tim Henman and Greg Rusedski between them only won 2 masters series titles and reached one slam final. Murray has won 12 masters titles on different surfaces and has reached the final of each slam multiple times (besides Roland Garros with the lone appearance). Unlike Henman and Rusedski he plays well on all surfaces. Earlier in his career Murray would have been lucky to win two rounds at any given clay court tournament, this year he ended up with more match wins on the surface than any other player. From being the nearly-man of tennis he is now the undisputed world number 2 and it is likely he will add to his tally of slams in the near future.

I must admit I am still somewhat surprised by my admiration for the man. I am highly sceptical of patriotism and despite my love for sport, it does often act as a catalyst for the worst kinds of nationalism. You only need to witness the ugly scenes in Marseilles before the match between England and Russia at the European Championships in June to see exactly how this plays out. For me to have such unshaken support for a player whom I just happen to share a country with is somewhat jarring. Murray understands the complications that go with being a ‘role model’, a title which sportspeople often unfairly and involuntary have thrust upon them. As such he tries his best to act as a respectful and level-headed ambassador for his sport and for the United Kingdom. He kept out of the E.U. referendum debate after being so heavily burned by his misjudged proclamations for Scottish independence in 2014 and neutrally and kindly paid homage to the difficulty of the Prime Minister’s job after his latest Wimbledon final. He knows the impact his words can have, so he chooses them carefully.

It is a combination of grit, determination and genuine potential that have made him captivating to follow for all these years. He is both an underdog and a winner, the plucky Brit but also a champion. The obstacles he has overcome have been fierce but his ability to set and achieve these difficult goals have made him one of Britain’s greatest ever sports-persons. Andy Murray puts in more work and effort to his craft than we as a nation deserve. The constant criticism he still receives for a throwaway jibe about the England football team (which in hindsight they probably deserved) is beyond tedious. Despite the execrable abuse hurled his way in professional print or otherwise, in an era with the three best players of all time he has been able to compete with them as one of their rank. He may be ‘boring’, ‘monotone’ and ‘grumpy’ but Christ we will miss him when he’s gone.

*If anyone is in any doubt as to how difficult these titles are to win, just bear in mind only one person not named Federer, Nadal, Djokovic or Murray has won a Masters 1000 title in the past five years.

Cover photo courtesy of Chris Boland via flickr

US Open image courtesy of Karl Norling via flickr

Rome image courtesy of Roberto Faccenda via flickr