Hitting Back (31 page)

My whole plan for the year is to work much harder on my
fitness, get some input from some of the best players in the
world and go through the season preventing injuries. I am also
trying to gain those three kilos in weight which I think will
make a big difference in years to come. I've been rather
disappointed that the 'Team Murray' line has been blown out
of all proportion. Am I supposed to tell my brother he's got to
stop coming to tournaments because he's apparently part of
my team?

So, there are all these professional questions to deal with and
then you have to find the time to take a driving test. Kim can
drive, even though she's six months younger than me, and
although it's great to have a chauffeur, driving is something I
really want to do. It's got to be soon because the theory test
I did expires in November 2008. I don't think it will be too
difficult. I've done a lot of go-karting. Basically, I've been
behind the wheel quite a bit and I can drive fine. I've got good
hand–eye coordination for a start.

It is funny trying to cram a little bit of normal life in to the
hectic business of being on the tennis tour. This year will be
busier than most, with (barring injuries) my first Wimbledon in
two years, the Olympics in Beijing and the Davis Cup tie at
home against Austria – which I am planning to play (I hope on
a hard court).

I'd love to win Wimbledon, that's for sure. Everyone who
watches the tournament would love someone British to win
the singles there. I know I can play well on grass but a lot
depends on the draw. Hopefully, I'll have my ranking up by
then because Wimbledon does this weird seeding selection
that doesn't work in my favour. Even if I'm in the top-10 or
top-15 by then, because I didn't play last year I'm going to get
booted down the list to a lower seeding. But that's a minor
technicality compared to the pleasure I get from playing
there.

I do understand it's a special place. I've been going there
since I was a kid to watch my hero Andre Agassi in my Lycra
denim shorts just like his. I played the junior tournaments aged
fifteen, sixteen and seventeen. I was in the seniors by the time
I was eighteen. I reached the fourth round by nineteen. Every
year, something happens, something changes.

And, of course, some things don't change that much at all. I
remember hearing the story that a gateman once refused entry
to Boris Becker, the three-time champion. That doesn't surprise
me. At Wimbledon 2007, Kim and I went to the gate right next
to the player's entrance with my entry badge. We were going
to watch one of Jamie's matches in the mixed doubles and I
needed to take her in so that she could collect her badge too.

'I'm just taking my girlfriend to get her badge,' I told the guy.

'No, sorry.'

'What do you mean?'

'No sorry, she can't come in.'

'Are you serious?' I asked in an unintentional echo of John
McEnroe. He explained that Kim had to wait outside the gates,
while I went in to get the badge. Then I had to come all the way
out of the grounds with it, come back round to the entrance,
and give the badge to her before we could go in. I understand
the need for security, but this just seemed needless nit-picking.
Yes, obviously Wimbledon is a beautiful place, but when you
get rejected at the door it's not the nicest of feelings.

I don't think they do it any more, but in the past when you
won at Wimbledon, you were given an honorary tie. I don't
really know much about that kind of history – and I'm not a
tie man. We have to wear them at Davis Cup dinners, which
can be a nuisance because I can't tie the knot properly and I
have to get someone else to do it for me. I can see why people
enjoy Wimbledon's traditions – it's an amazing tournament –
but I wish it could be just a bit more chilled and less expensive
for the fans. I eat strawberries but not with cream, and
preferably for less than a fiver!

The one thing I do love is the support of the crowd. I can
play in some of the biggest stadiums in the world and get very
good support but it is never quite the same passionate wanting-me-to-win
that I find at Wimbledon. I know it's been for ever
since a Brit won and I would love to change that. But, luckily,
the last thing I'm thinking about on court at Wimbledon is the
last time someone British won.

There's a chance I can win in 2008, but I'm not saying I'm
going to. I'm definitely a better player than I was two years ago
when I beat Andy Roddick, a Wimbledon finalist. It's possible,
it's definitely possible, but there's a difference between having
a slight chance of winning and actually doing it.

It won't be easy. Not with Roger Federer in the way, plus
Nadal, Djokovic, Karlovic, Ancic, Roddick and all the guys
who now play well on grass because it's not as fast as it used
to be. I reckon there will be seven or eight guys going into
Wimbledon this year who think they have a chance. The best
thing I can say is that, all being well, I'll be one of them.

I cannot give you the formula for success, but I can give
you the formula for failure – which is: Try to please
everybody.

Herbert Bayard Swope

I have never met Mr Swope. I don't know anything about him
except I really like that quote. It sums up the way I feel. It also
explains why I wanted to write this book when some people
might think I am too young to have strong opinions. I don't
think I am too young. In fact, I think I have pretty much
mastered the art of having strong opinions.

Many things have been written and said about me that I
wasn't happy with because they didn't reflect the person I am.
Being able to tell my own story in this book has provided me
with a very good opportunity to get my views across without
any media distortion. Obviously, I have done some bad things in
my time on the tennis tour, but at least now you know why I did
them. It is not because I am naturally rude, or anti-English, or
sexist; it is because I made mistakes as everyone does and then
watched, amazed, as they were dramatised beyond all reality.

In no way am I saying that I'm perfect, but I would say that
many things have happened to me that haven't been
particularly fair. If I say to someone in the newspaper business:
'I'm really disappointed with what you wrote about me,' they
are going to say: 'Really sorry,' and carry on acting like they're
my best friend. Nothing happens about it. You don't have the
luxury of saying 'That's absolute bollocks' in public after they
get something wrong. Well, that's fine. But I wanted to get my
side across too, and this book is the way I chose to do it.

It's not about making people like me. I know I'm not going
to be everyone's favourite person – there are very few people in
the world that absolutely everyone likes. It's not about being
popular, it's about being me. When you are in the sporting
spotlight, sometimes you deserve the chance to explain
yourself. So this is it: I'm explaining myself. It is not to make
you like me; it is hopefully to make you understand me a bit
better.

One way of doing that, I thought, would be the sporting
Q and A list. I often get asked to do these and it is a pretty good
way of getting to know someone quickly. It might help to
explain a few things about me and will probably convince
you I've got an immature sense of humour, but it's still worth
a try.

ANDY MURRAY'S QUESTIONNAIRE

Q: Favourite tournament?

A: US Open.

Q: Favourite tennis shot?

A: Drop shot.

Q: Greatest sporting moment?

A: Winning my first tournament in San José, 2006,
beating Lleyton Hewitt in the final.

Q: Most difficult opponent?

A: Rafa Nadal.

Q: Best insult ever hurled at you?

A: 'Scottish wanker' was a good one.

Q: Favourite film?

A:
The Shawshank Redemption
and
Braveheart
, also
comedies like
Wedding Crashers
and
Old School
.

Q: Favourite computer game?

A: Pro Evolution Soccer.

Q: Favourite music?

A: RnB.

Q: How many books have you read in your life?

A: I hate reading. Sometimes I scroll through books on
the computer but only sports ones.

Q: If you weren't a tennis player, what would you be?

A: Footballer.

Q: What bores you?

A: Plane journeys.

Q: What's the worst thing about your job?

A: Not seeing family and friends that much.

Q: What's the best thing about your job?

A: Seeing new places all the time.

Q: What three things would you rescue if your apartment
was on fire?

A: My sofa – so comfy, my wallet and PlayStation 3.

Q: What does life after tennis hold for you?

A: I'm interested in property and school sports.

Q: Which sport do you like least?

A: Bowling.

Q: What was your favourite subject at school?

A: Maths.

Q: What was the naughtiest thing you ever did at school?

A: Missing every homework I was ever given. I hated it.

Q: Have you ever seen a snake in your house?

A: Yes.

Q: Who is the sportsperson you most admire?

A: Muhammad Ali.

Q: Will you vote in the next election?

A: Probably not.

Q: Do you have any phobias?

A: Not really, but I don't like it when my limbs feel
pinned down.

Q: Do you still get marriage proposals?

A: I haven't for a while. The last one was at Wimbledon
2006 – a girl came up with a banner that said 'Andy,
will you Murray me!'

Q: Favourite holiday destination?

A: Miami.

Q: Favourite country?

A: I do like the States. Australia is very relaxed too.

Q: Favourite food?

A: Japanese.

Q: What's the best practical joke you've played on a
mate?

A: Hiding his passport the day before he was leaving on
a trip – his parents turned his room upside down.

Q: Do you think Scotland will ever make the football
World Cup again?

A: Of course.

Q: Snow or sun?

A: Snow.

Q: Half full or half empty?

A: Half full.

Q: Sharapova or Ivanovic?

A: Sharapova.

Q:
Big Brother
or
Dancing on Ice
?

A: Both poor.

Q: Who is the most impressive person you have ever
met?

A: David Beckham was awesome. Very nice, polite and
normal as well.

Q: Have you ever considered a ponytail?

A: Never say never. I was close last year!

Q: What do you wear round your neck?

A: It changes. I had a cross, a foot and a little ball for a
while. Right now just a ball because the strings broke
on the other ones.

Q: If you were an animal, which one would you be?

A: I love dogs but maybe a snake. Something scary.

Q: What is your ambition in tennis?

A: To win a grand slam.

Q: What is your ambition in life more generally?

A: To have a happy family.

Q: What is the thing you most like about yourself?

A: My abs. Ha ha.

Q: What is the thing you most dislike about yourself?

A: My voice. Probably the most boring in Britain.

Q: What is your philosophy of life?

A: See Mr Swope's quote at the start of the chapter.

I was thinking the other day about throwing up. I don't mean
throwing up then and there, I mean the time in Barcelona I got
completely hammered on vodka, wine and champagne and
threw up as an obvious consequence right outside a nightclub.
I never drank again. It was, you might say, a formative
experience.

It was during my Academy days in Barcelona when I was
about sixteen. I was going out to dinner for my friend's birthday
and just before I left the house, the son of the family I was
staying with asked me if I'd like a drink. I said: 'Yeah, sure' and
then, stupidly, left the room to go to the toilet. When I came
back, there was this big glass with 'a little bit of vodka and
Coke' in it. I drank it down in literally 20 seconds and went to
catch the bus into town. I began to feel rather peculiar, which
is not surprising considering I'd been given about half a pint of
vodka with a few drops of Coke, or so I discovered later.

There were about fifteen or sixteen of us at the dinner, with
wine and champagne flowing at the table, so I started drinking
that too. It was fairly noticeable that I was not behaving
normally by now so the others started feeding me crisps with
chocolate cake on them. I didn't care. I knew what was going
on and I knew it wasn't good, but I couldn't stop myself.

Then everyone announced they were going to a nightclub.
Obviously I wasn't in the best shape to go with them and I had
no expectations of getting in either. But I went along, shuffled
to the front of the queue and just at that moment in front of
the doors with loads of people around, I felt the urgent need to
be sick. Instead of moving, I just tried to catch it in my hands.
It went down my arms and legs and splashed on my shoes.
Unbelievably, the nightclub let me in but I can only imagine
that I wasn't a very popular clubber that night.

After that night, I decided it was possible to have fun
without being drunk. You lose control and I hate that. I made
an arse of myself in front of all my friends and, anyway, I don't
like the taste of alcohol.

It is amazing how many things happen to you when you're
young that have a knock-on effect when you're older. I always
remember being petrified once that my temper had got me into
real trouble. I was in the house on my own when I was about
seven years old. My dad had gone to pick up Jamie from
somewhere and I was on my bed playing a football game on my
Nintendo and a PC game on Jamie's laptop at the same time.
I'd been playing for a couple of hours and I wasn't winning. It
was getting worse and worse and I was starting to get a little
bit annoyed.

Then I went a goal down on the Nintendo and a split second
later the same thing happened on the PC and that was it. In a
fit of rage I whacked the screen of Jamie's laptop and broke it.
The screen looked like a smashed windscreen. It was
completely bust and I started panicking. I was crying as I
phoned my dad and told an outright but necessary lie: 'I was
playing on my bed and I just turned round and knocked it off
by mistake.' We took it to the shop to try and get it mended,
but it was completely dead. Dad probably had to buy Jamie a
new one and, because I was so scared, I didn't tell Dad the
truth until a couple of years ago – or Jamie, for that matter.

Dad tended to believe me when I was a boy and there was a
good reason for that.

'Dad,' I called one day when we were in the house together.
'There's a snake in the house.'

'Be quiet, Andy,' he said crossly. He was on the phone, a
business call, and he'd warned me sternly not to make any
noise.

'But Dad, there's a snake,' I persisted, somewhat fascinated
by the sight of a living, breathing snake slowly making its way
along the floor.

He told me to shut up even more crossly than before. Then he
came off the phone, looked down, went white and said: 'Oh my
God.' He panicked and ran out of the room, and I think he took
me with him even though I wanted to touch my new slithering
friend by now. He phoned the RSPCA and the police, and it
turned out that our neighbours in the adjoining house kept
snakes and one of them had escaped, got under the floorboards
and into our living room. It wasn't a dangerous one but I wasn't
to know that, and anyway a snake's a snake. Since then, Dad
has, pretty much, listened with respect to everything I say.

I would describe myself as mischievous rather than wicked
growing up, and I always needed something to occupy me.
Sitting around reading books wasn't an option. I am pretty
much the same now. In Miami this year when we were bored,
I started to do quizzes for everyone – not just about tennis, but
a bit of everything. I refused to participate because I wanted to
be quizmaster – in control – and I was impressed that they were
all pretty good.

My favourite question was this one: Who's played more
times: McEnroe v Connors or Sampras v Agassi? It's a trick
question because they've played exactly the same number of
times: thirty-four. Those pairings are probably the two best
rivalries in tennis history and they have exactly the same
win–loss record: Sampras won 20–14 and so did McEnroe. No
one got the right answer.

I'm known as a bit of a statistician. I know pretty much what
all the top players on the tour are doing, where they played,
when they played, the scores. I couldn't tell you how many
times they serve aces or hit forehand winners but I do know
what the top players are up to.

If you ask me about Djokovic this season I'd be able to say
off the top of my head that he played the Hopman Cop with
Jelena Jankovic and lost in the Final to the United States
because Jankovic was injured. Then obviously fourth, played
Gilles Simon, in Indian Wells, lost in the first round of Miami
and went out in the semi-finals of Monte Carlo. He played
Davis Cup in between against Russia and retired in the third set
against Davydenko.

Knowing the players and their records helps me to prepare
for matches, because I've always believed that winning the
tactical battle is as important as hitting the ball hard. I think
what's appealing about my tennis game is that it is not just
about generating power off the racket. I like to defend – maybe
too much sometimes. I try and use as many shots as I can. I hit
flat, use high angles, slice, drop shot, and come to the net
sometimes. I think that is the difference between me and lot of
the other players right now.

I try and play a smoother game where you have to feel the
ball rather than just muscle it. That's why people talk about me
having 'good hands'. It's a timing thing. When I first started
playing on the tour, it was a style I used all the time. Then I
stopped doing it as much, but it's something I want to go back
to because it's more fun to play. The alternative is just putting
the ball back in court and hoping your opponent will make a
mistake. But to me there is far more pleasure to be gained from
putting up a high lob when you are pushed back on the
defensive – the attacking defensive option is more fun.

I never saw him, but a lot of guys have told me I play like
Miloslav Mecir, the Slovakian player they called the 'Big Cat'
because of the beautiful way he moved around the court and
the misleadingly gentle shots he used. I love watching players
who you feel can produce a magical shot out of nowhere.

Obviously, you do need to play aggressively sometimes. For
example, when I play someone like Nadal I am ultra-aggressive,
coming forward all the time and trying to hit
winners. It's about finding the right way to play against each
opponent. You need to adapt. I love that about tennis. I love
thinking my way to a win as well as just powering the ball over
the net.