Against my better judgement, I agreed to take my 12-year-old to ‘hang out’ at the Mall (the big pink one) on Saturday afternoon. This involved me wasting two hours of my life drinking coffee while my son and a bunch of his pre-teen classmates trolled around the Mall attempting to look cool while not achieving very much. What an absolute waste of everybody’s time, I thought. What on earth is the attraction? However, I was feeling generous at the time, looking forward to a more relaxing Sunday.
The highlight of my weekend was supposed to be sitting in front of the TV, watching the Australian Open final, for at least five hours, yesterday morning. Andy Murray let me down. Not only did Novak Djokovic play a determined game, relentlessly well but Andy hardly turned up. He had, quite rightly, dismissed all talk of the weight of history and waiting 75 years for a male singles grand slam champion. He was doing it for himself. The problem was he didn’t actually do anything. And it was all over in less than three hours, totally ruining my weekend celebration plans. Where was the real Any Murray?
Who is the real Andy Murray? The one that is capable of playing such impressive tennis that he has reached 3 grand slam finals and been ranked as high as no 2 in the world. The one capable of inspiring such schadenfreude, that certain people I know, feel obliged to use their FB status to gloat when he loses. The one who has lost three grand slam finals in straight sets? It was a depressing performance and not least because I now have to listen to all the Murray haters going on about how he is just not good enough! Well, I think he is good enough. He is no Tim Henman; he is genuinely very talented and has real passion for the game.
The people who hate Murray should have more sympathy. Many of them are little Englander football fans who just can’t forgive him for making a tongue-in-cheek remark, several years ago about supporting anyone but England in the World Cup. Apart from the fact that it was actually quite a funny comment at the time, these people, more than anyone, should be familiar with the problem. They understand what it is like to watch their sporting heroes underperform at those life-changing moments, with greatness in their sights. England v Algeria 0-0, at the 2010 world cup for a start.
Murray’s problem is that he seems to experience fear and emotional trauma when on the brink of a title that does not infect his game on the journey. It is all in the mind, Andy. He should just stop thinking and play the beautiful, uninhibited game he plays at other times. And maybe he should actually get himself a coach. He prefers to hang out with his fitness trainers and friends because it is more fun on tour. But clearly they don’t seem to be able to help him when it really counts. So, unless his mum can get out of her box and give him a good metaphorical slap next time, a coach has got to help those nerves and improve his strategy at the big moments!
