Defying the odds

Murray, now aged 30, is the world’s No 1. This column is also a tribute to hard work and the act of defiance.

Being No 1 in world tennis is not a small thing. You don’t have to be a tennis lover to appreciate the significance of winning five titles in a row in three months and to be unbeaten in 24 matches. Andy Murray holding top position is an unfathomable achievement.

Nobody believed that a British man would again achieve that status. Murray, too, never thought he would rise to the very peak, so when he stole a win from the steely machine that was his rival, Serbian Novak Djokovic, two weeks ago in Paris, and toppled him from the No 1 position I was ecstatic. But beating Djokovic again in Sunday’s ATP World Tour Finals and retaining the position is history-making.

It seemed that British players were jinxed since Fred Perry won his last Wimbledon title in 1936.

He was also the last world No 1 player from the UK and the first and only English tennis player to win all the major open titles, until Murray came along and defied the odds.

For decades I went to Wimbledon, religiously, and saw the young English players knocked out by the semi-final round. Few names, apart from the Lloyd brothers and Tim Henman, stick.

They lacked the power, skill and mindset needed for the changing game ushered in by brash young Americans like Jimmy Connors who made Ken Rosewall’s elegance suddenly seem of another era, and John McEnroe who turned tennis into a ferocious tournament.

But it was in the woman’s game that a new era of professionalism became most evident. Martina Navratilova, a Czech defector who won nine Wimbledon championships was public about how she prepared herself. She did weightlifting and body training and ate super foods. No ladies’ baseline playing for her; she rushed the net, chased every ball, had a lightning serve and shouted at herself.

To take her on, and players like her, a new level of physical fitness was necessary. No more casual playing, relying on skill and practice.

The human body had to be a well-oiled machine as the game got faster and more technical, requiring greater levels of strength and mental staying power because they lasted longer too.

Part of the surprise of Murray is the sheer height and breadth of the man, which is a great advantage as he can cover the court with ease, although you never expect him to, as he lugs his mass of toned, rippling muscle around the court, seemingly dragging his feet until he has to chase a ball.

Watching him play is not the same treat as seeing Roger Federer play. There is little of that sheer beauty and grace in his game, but he wears his Olympian gold doggedness on his sleeve.

The British invented the game of lawn tennis, like they invented football, cricket and badminton, but they have slipped from domination of all except now for Murray in tennis. It is a matter of national pride to hear his languid speech (as heavy and flat as his huge feet), and a great lesson to all that it is possible to turn things around.

Much soul searching has endured about the paucity of brilliant UK tennis players but Murray’s long and steady trajectory to the top shows that determination and a clinical, utterly workmanlike approach to playing is necessary, and, of course, the money to hire the best coaches and supporting team.

Professional tennis is more than a game, it is a multi-million dollar affair and Murray is pr e p a r e d for that.

Congratulations.