by In a park in Edinburgh, shortly before shooting an unsuspecting dog in the back with an air rifle, Sick Boy expresses his philosophy to Renton. “At one point you have it. Then you lose it and it’s gone forever. All aspects of life. George Best, for example. If he had, he lost. Or David Bowie, Lou Reed. Charlie Nicholas, David Niven, Malcolm McLaren, Elvis Presley.”
“So we all get old, we hack it further and that’s it? That’s your theory?”
“Yes.”
Andy Murray? Given the acute impact of a serious injury on his body, the Sick Boy analysis is overly simplistic but the overarching reasoning is not entirely wild. Feel free to quote Murray’s Trainspotting analogy.
These are troubled times for one of Britain’s greatest ever sportsmen. By his own assessment, Murray finds himself in a “terrible moment” after a first-round defeat against Benoît Paire, the world No. 112, in the Open Sud de France. Murray left the Australian Open at equal points; he lost round one of his seven matches in the last tournament. The 36-year-old has been no further than the third round of a grand slam event since 2017. All the evidence points to a stellar career coming to a halt. If people weren’t questioning Murray’s longevity, something would be missing.
Not that Murray has any intention of accepting such an assessment. A midweek column by BBC Scotland tennis correspondent Kheredine Idessane sparked outrage on social media from the three-time grand slam winner. “It’s been an incredible journey by a great man,” Idessane said. “And it’s such a privilege to witness large parts of it.” What followed was a completely inoffensive opinion piece by an inoffensive individual. One quote by Murray said: “At what point does a brave soldier first damage his legacy?”
The language may have been clumsy but the concept that a sportsperson would stay in situ much longer than is healthy for them or for a community that has to watch from between fingers is not a new story. Think Ian Rush at Wrexham or Billy Casper shooting 106 in the 2005 Masters. Picking the right time to take a bow is important because, in the modern world, people have short memories.
“Am I reaping my inheritance?” Murray in the post. “Do me a favor. Most people would give up and give up in my situation right now. But I’m not a people person and my mind works differently. I will not quit. I will continue to fight and work to perform the performances that I know I am capable of.
“I’m not a people person,” he said. No, he’s a tennis player. An exceptional one – who has inspired millions who cannot distinguish between deuce and juice to focus on this sport for a few weeks a year – but a tennis player nonetheless. Assessing one’s own “heritage” feels like a dangerous rabbit hole to go down.
In 2019 Murray actually announced his retirement. The scale of his physical and psychological distress, detailed in the excellent documentary Resurfacing, he made a subsequent comeback to appear against all odds. But retirement was hardly a foreign concept to him. He wasn’t, either, in December when he admitted: “It could be the last year, yes.” All this makes Tuesday’s rather outburst a strange one unless the subtext is that Murray and Murray alone can pontificate on his own future.
There are several threads to this. Murray should be encouraged to use his social media account to give an authentic opinion. His mocking of Nigel Farage and his caustic view on Brexit was widely celebrated. He is also entitled to object to the column in question: as the subject of the column, that would be absolutely right. Murray’s competitive instincts are clearly intact. Prickliness is fine; or even a Scottish trait. Murray’s apparent desire to progress, in such a physically demanding sport with so many younger and fitter players, is admirable. Tiger Woods only had to worry about the hills of Augusta National during his redemption story of 2019. Murray has boys serving him at 120mph.
Murray should remember, however, that most aspects of the British media have hero-worshipped him since his inception. When he curses the Wimbledon matches as he walks through the Wimbledon matches, the BBC turns the other cheek. His actions were just now for a man who was not at all used to light criticism. By tagging Murray in his article, Idessane knew he was looking for an answer. Whether it was clever of a sports icon with 3.5m followers on X to allow the heap that followed is debatable.
More notable – and not in a good way – was the desire of famous faces to be happy in Murray’s post. They had to bow at the feet of San Andy. “DO NOT ENTER THE ATTACK!” It was vomiting induced. Irvine Welsh, who wrote Trainspotting, jumped to the defense of his fellow Scot. Sharron Davies did the same. Martina Navratilova download. Andy Roddick seemed particularly perplexed. “Imagine telling an intelligent adult your opinion on what they should choose for work and when they should do it,” wrote the former US Open champion. “This is such a dumb, lame article. Inheritance cannot be removed. The achievement lasts forever.” Roddick has to live in a terribly sheltered world where outside analysis of athletes contrary to their own is prohibited. He was probably too bothered to read the 696 offensive words, which showed a fitting compliment. on Murray’s achievements.
Wimbledon next year will mark 20 years since Murray took part in the championship for the first time. A natural closed point sits for an excellent run. It’s just that getting to that point right now is a huge challenge. No one should joke about this glaringly obvious fact. Murray’s acolytes do him no favors.
