It might be as misleading to say teetotaller Andy Murray had a hangover on Monday morning as it would be to observe that Ivan Lendl cried his eyes out when the Scot won his second Wimbledon title on Sunday afternoon.
But there is a shred of truth in both observations. Murray, mixing his vodka and champagne, has rarely been as relaxed as he was in a foray to a Mayfair nightclub in the company of a crew of seasoned party-going British tennis writers and others after the more formal Champions’ Ball at the Guildhall to celebrate probably his most immaculate victory on Centre Court, a three-sets demolition job on Milos Raonic.
On a mild, sunny Sunday afternoon, Murray had restricted the 25-year-old Canadian power-server to eight aces to go with the 138 he had inflicted on six opponents to reach his first grand slam final. Murray was later at a loss to explain how he returned one 147mph serve while standing on the baseline. “Instinct,” is all he could come up with.
Watching all this from Murray’s box with undeniable pride was a big barrel‑bellied man of 56 who had recently been tempted away from the golf courses of Florida, the coach who had done so much to get the best out of a player whose self-belief has sometimes wavered. And there were unmistakable hints of moisture around those steely eyes, whatever his denials. Lendl later said it might have been hay fever; Murray said it most certainly was not. So, we wanted to know, after the carnage, what did he think of the drinking experience (probably only the third time in his life he has tasted alcohol)? “Never had a drink like that,” he confessed. “Not in celebration, anyway.”
And, inasmuch as he described the experience as “brutal”, he revelled in the ordinariness of it all – particularly the excesses of one or two writers he had previously only witnessed with tape recorders rather than champagne glasses in their hands.
“I don’t even remember what I was drinking,” he said. “I didn’t enjoy the taste that much but it was good fun. Everyone messaging me this morning seemed to say they had a good time. Last time I won [in 2013] I didn’t enjoy it as much, so I just wanted to make sure I enjoyed last night. You get a good group of your friends, work colleagues, family around and you can relax. You feel a lot more comfortable in those surroundings. It was just a nice thing to do. I very rarely get the chance to do that.”
It was a thought that shone a light on the extraordinary sacrifices Murray has made in his quest for excellence. His conditioner, Matt Little, put it in wider perspective. Little said that watching Murray sob uncontrollably into his towel in his chair on court moments after winning hit home how much it meant to him.
“It was very special because he has had quite a few tough times since his last one, including the surgery [in 2013] and lots of changes in the team,” Little said. “I think he is very relieved. And this time he was ecstatic, which was really nice.”
Little, who has become close to Murray over several years and amuses the player’s wife, Kim, by calling her “treacle” [as in treacle tart, sweetheart] – and thus has been given that as his own nickname – is responsible for the punishing regime that has made the Scot one of the fittest players in the history of the game.
“It took us probably the best part of a year to get him back on track and feeling good [after his back operation],” said Little. “We still work tirelessly to keep him feeling that way. It’s been a long road. It’s hard to find the words to describe it because seeing what he has gone through and how much he has dedicated himself every day has been incredible. It has been really amazing to watch him do it.”
Murray’s physical condition was one of Lendl’s concerns when he rang Little at a family barbecue before he agreed to return as his coach three weeks ago. “I said to him: ‘Actually, I think he is pretty close to his max. We can keep pushing him, but I think he is pretty good. I don’t think he is losing these things because of physical reasons.’ Of course, as a team we keep trying to find angles, to find extra things and that will continue to happen.”
Little is also the cheerleader of Murray’s courtside box, and said he can tell when his boss might be “going a little flat” and needs vocal encouragement. “I’ve had nine years of screaming at him,” he said, “but he’s returned the favour.” He returned it with interest on Sunday.
Looking back on a journey that began as a teenager at Wimbledon in 2005, Murray, a husband and father now at 29, said: “I was ranked 350 or something in the world. I was just happy to be playing at Wimbledon. My goal at the time was just to try to reach the top 100. After Wimbledon I realised that I could play with the top men, and I changed my goals a bit. But I certainly didn’t ever think when I played here the first or second time that I would be winning the tournament.”
As he left the All England Club on Monday to complete another round of interviews and guest appearances, Murray said: “Tonight will be a bit calmer. It will be nice to be around the team – probably chat more about last night than the match, I would have thought. There were some amusing scenes.”
And you won’t be reading about them here.
