Andy Murray

01/07/2009

The tennis hero explains why Roger Federer is beatable

by Dominic Bliss
In between Andy Murray and the Wimbledon trophy is one very high hurdle to negotiate. A Swiss player, called Roger, who is looking for a record 15th Grand Slam title. Easing toward the final while bearly breaking a sweat, Federer is the Goliath that will test the mettle of Britain’s top tennis player.

“I have beaten Federer six times, and Nadal twice,” Murray reminds The Big Issue. “So it’s not like I can’t beat those guys. The thing that’s really tough to do is beat them on tennis’s biggest stage.”
Ranked three in the world, the 22-year-old Scot is arguably in a better position to win Wimbledon than any other Briton since Fred Perry – and that was back before WWII.

“Yes, it’s tough that everyone is expecting me to win now,”adds Murray. “But I have a pretty good perspective on that. I know if I make the semi-finals of a Grand Slam, then for me that’s a great tournament.

“It’s not like I’ll feel I’ve failed. With Federer and Nadal I’m up against two of the best players of all time. They have 20 Grand Slams between them, neither are at the end of their careers, and of any rivalry in tennis, they’ll probably go on to win the most Grand Slams combined.

“That makes it tough, but it also makes it a greater achievement if I can win a Grand Slam with them around.”

In the past the British number one has been accused of lacking the maturity required to win one of tennis’s major titles. Granted, he already has 12 ATP trophies adorning his mantelpiece – most recently last weekend’s victory at Queen’s Club, his first grass-court title, which he won to become the first Briton to collect the trophy since 1938 – but so far he has failed to triumph in any of the four Grand Slams: Wimbledon, the US Open, the French Open or the Australian Open. The closest he has reached is last year’s US Open final, which he lost to Federer.

“When I played at Wimbledon for the first time [in 2005], yeah, totally, I was immature. There’s no question,” he admits. “I was ranked 350 in the world. “A few weeks before I’d been playing Futures [the lowest rung of the tour]. I wasn’t used to playing those big tournaments. I’d be surprised if there were many 18-year-olds in the world who are like mature old men. When you’re 18 you’re not mature. You don’t have the experience to deal with huge, pressure situations. Saying that, I don’t think I handled myself badly in those matches.”

Since those tentative steps on the professional tour, Murray has developed into an intimidating force in the sport. His ability to disorientate opponents with varying styles of play and to hit aggressive shots from anywhere on the court, even from a defensive position, have turned him into a feared adversary. “I believe I’ve always been a very intelligent tennis player and anyone who knows the sport would tell you that tactically I’m one of the best,” he insists.

“I don’t serve like Andy Roddick and I don’t necessarily hit the ball as hard as Nadal. I have to find different ways of winning points, so I do it by changing the pace of the ball and using my head. That’s what I’ve always done well.”

Early in his career there were concerns about his physical fitness, but he is now considered one of the most athletic players on the tour. A further advantage he has over potential Wimbledon opponents (even Nadal and Federer) is that he is very much the local boy.

Born and brought up in the Dunblane, he has lived in London since 2005. He owns a riverside apartment in Wandsworth, in the south west of the capital, conveniently less than three miles from the All England Club. While other Wimbledon competitors have to stay in hotels or rented accommodation, he can nip home every night and sleep under his own duvet.

“At least during Wimbledon I can relax, try to live as normal a life as possible; try to take my mind off tennis as much as possible. When I made the US Open final last year I stayed in New York for 20 days. That was tough.”

One local inconvenience, however, will be the London paparazzi. In previous years they have lurked outside his apartment building, desperate for snaps of him and his girlfriend Kim Sears. “They’re only there during Wimbledon,” he says with relief. “It’s not worth them following me all the time because I don’t really do anything that’s interesting off the courts.”

Like all professional tennis players Murray spends at least half the year travelling the tour. When he’s back in London he practises with his coach and trainers at the National Tennis Centre in Roehampton.
Evenings out might be spent “go-karting in Surbiton” or at a “nice Japanese restaurant in central London”. Nozomi, in Knightsbridge, and Nobu (site of Boris Becker’s famous clinch in a broom cupboard), in Mayfair are favourites.

His girlfriend, in her final year at Sussex University, spends much of her time with Murray when he’s in London. “She studies English, and she’s only at uni seven hours a week,” Murray says of the 21-year-old whose father Nigel is a top LTA coach. “She’ll be at my flat in Wandsworth pretty much all the time I’m there.”

Property is one of Murray’s few indulgences. He hasn’t yet taken his driving test (“so I’m not into cars”), he doesn’t wear jewellery or expensive clothes and the fact he’s teetotal means he doesn’t go out drinking. But as well as his London pad, he has an apartment in the upmarket Brickell neighbourhood of Miami. “I love property,” he says. “If I’m investing money, that’s what I’m most comfortable investing it in. The reason I like it is because, as tennis players, we spend the whole year staying in hotels.

“If I’m going to spend four weeks somewhere, it’s nice not to have to be in a hotel.” But money, he says, is not particularly a motivation for him. “It’s never been a draw for me. The money is just something that comes with playing tennis,” he says. “The nerves you get walking out at Wimbledon, they have nothing to do with money.

“When I’m serving for a match I’m nervous because I’m about to beat Nadal or Federer. It’s never like, ‘God, if I win this match I make an extra 80 grand’.”

Nor is the impending 50 per cent top rate of income tax of particular concern to him. “Ideally, I would rather pay less tax. I’m sure everybody would rather pay less tax,” he says.

“I wouldn’t be against moving abroad in principle, but right now I don’t feel I would ever want to move for tax. I’ve moved around quite a lot since I was young: from Scotland to Spain [where he trained as a teenager] to London. I enjoy having my friends here in London and a base to come back to.”

But what about his Scottish roots? “I don’t think I’m losing my roots,” he says after a moment’s thought. “Not until Scotland stops feeling like home when I go back there. My whole family still lives in Scotland. So long as they’re there, that’s home. I’m sure I will always feel proud of where I grew up. I spent two-thirds of my life living there.”

His Stirlingshire accent is fading, however. Inevitably, 30 weeks a year on the ATP tour (where the lingua franca is American English) have softened it. He says this started when he moved to the Sanchez-Casal tennis academy in Barcelona at 15. The coaches and international players conversed in English, but weren’t attuned to the Scots lingo.

“My Scottish accent wasn’t that broad, but it was quite obvious,” he remembers. “I had to change it because no one understood what I was saying. So I started speaking really slow and as clear as possible. After staying there a year and travelling with the coaches, that was how I ended up speaking.”

Most Brits have been waiting so long for a winner that no-one will much mind which accent a victory speech is made in.