Britain’s Wimbledon men’s singles champion says, ‘I don’t think I will be sidetracked’ – despite the wealth heading his way A day later, it was still difficult to take in. Even seeing Andy Murray hug his trophy in front of the statue of Fred Perry at Wimbledon, with TV cameras humming, cameras clicking and journalists dreaming up questions to ask him, there was an element of the surreal about what he had done, consigning the figure behind him to the pages of history, never to be mentioned again as the last British winner of the men’s singles title
Britain’s Wimbledon men’s singles champion says, ‘I don’t think I will be sidetracked’ – despite the wealth heading his way
A day later, it was still difficult to take in. Even seeing Andy Murray hug his trophy in front of the statue of Fred Perry at Wimbledon, with TV cameras humming, cameras clicking and journalists dreaming up questions to ask him, there was an element of the surreal about what he had done, consigning the figure behind him to the pages of history, never to be mentioned again as the last British winner of the men’s singles title.
This is not to suggest that Murray did not deserve to be celebrating probably the finest individual achievement in British sport since, well, That Other Guy won the third of his titles in 1936. It is just that the comparisons between them are irrelevant because Murray inhabits a different sport. What he has done is triumph twice at the Everest of tennis in an era of unprecedented excellence.
While TOG, with his wooden racket, long trousers and elegant game, might have given the Scot no more than the odd fright on court, Murray does owe the old boy a debt of gratitude. Murray is reluctant to admit it, but shifting that 77-year-old monkey for the nation must have contributed to his motivation on Sunday. For Tim Henman, who concedes he was not in Murray’s class despite making four semi-finals at Wimbledon, the weight proved too much. For Murray, it played to one of his strengths: stubbornness.
He will not be put in a box. He is a classic nonconformist, a proud, even willful, athlete for whom winning matters more than appearances, reputation, money or praise. It is at the core of his being. Few players have that desire to win in such depth. Murray is a self-made champion, which is why the last game of his 6-4, 7-5, 6-4 win over the equally tigerish Novak Djokovic on Sunday, the final few nervous punches of a fight that had begun three hours and nine minutes earlier, carried such enormous consequences.
It is frightening to contemplate how Murray would have handled losing that game and possibly the set and the match after holding three championship points. It might have ruined him. But he refused to crack. History was not going to bring him down.
He was aware of the pressure but, for the entire tournament, he had compartmentalised it. “It is difficult. Because it is such a big story, it’s on when the news is on,” he said. “If you want to watch the tennis, during most matches something will get mentioned. I don’t look at any newspapers. I try to stay off the internet and away from my phone as much as possible. It’s a bit unnatural but it’s necessary.”
If he is worried about what other people are saying about him, he has no doubts about what he thinks of himself. He is determined not to let the victory change him. “I’m not addicted to going out or drinking or smoking. I don’t do any of that sort of stuff. I enjoy being around my friends, I enjoy training. I enjoy being over in Miami.
“I don’t think I will get sidetracked – but you never know. You see it a lot in other sports because with fame there comes a lot of distractions. It comes down to the people you surround yourself with. If you surround yourself with the right people you won’t get yourself in those situations.
“People who are honest with you will tell you if you are acting out of line or not working properly or you’re doing the wrong things. And I believe I have the right people to stop me doing anything like that.”
Unrealistically, perhaps, he expects the attention to die down now that he has delivered what people have craved for so long. “I think so, I would expect so. But I would hope it doesn’t change my expectations too much. My goal is to try to win more grand slams. I don’t think the ranking systems always reflects a player’s qualities perfectly. You are more remembered for the slams you win. The top ranking would be a great thing to [reach] but, if I was picking, it would be another slam – and hopefully I can defend my US Open title next month.
“I hope I don’t lose the hunger. I know what it’s like losing in a Wimbledon final and I know what it’s like winning one, and it’s a lot better winning.”
He understands that, whatever his best intentions, winning Wimbledon will have some impact on his life. His earnings, for instance, will soar, although he touches on the £1.6m winner’s cheque with an embarrassed smile. Estimates of his projected income over the next few years – some as high as £100m – do not interest him much.
Nor do rumours that he has made a further donation to the Royal Marsden Hospital after giving its cancer charity £73,000 of his Queen’s Club prize money, because of his long-time friendship with the doubles player Ross Hutchins, whom the hospital treated for cancer.
Murray, who keeps his politics to himself, said he would weigh up the issues before going public on Scottish independence. “When the time is right I will probably say something about it,” he said. He was dismissive of David Cameron’s hint that he may receive a knighthood in the New Year honours list. “I don’t know if it merits that.”
Perhaps one day, though, he will have his own statue at Wimbledon – alongside That Other Guy.