Andy Murray – Do I care? Just.

When I was a boy the British Number 1 tennis player (male) was CB Mottram, known as “Buster”. With the look of a thick 1930s aristocrat Buster was as well known for his open support of the National Front as for his tennis. Each year at Wimbledon his appearances would be marked by anti-fascist protesters in the crowd. The protesters had no need to book tickets for week two of Wimbledon because, despite having a semi-fierce serve, Buster was not actually that good and never made it past the early rounds. And so from one unlikeable British tennis player with unpleasant Nationalist views we turn to another….Andy Murray.

Sometimes through gritted teeth, the whole British Nation will, I suspect, be rooting for Murray today. Since he is the first British men’s finalist since Bunny Austin in 1938, (what is it with British male tennis players and silly names?) we are all hoping for Murray to win for Britain. Murray of course is not. He is hoping to win for Scotland. Since his famous outburst a few years ago when he made it abundantly clear that a) he was Scottish not British and b) he had that Scottish chip on his shoulder which made him loathe England, he has tried a PR re-invention but we all know that the man is a fierce Scot and even fiercer England hater.

As someone from the nation he despises (England) it is sometimes hard to like Murray, even if we can overlook his nasty nationalism. He lacks grace when winning and lacks even more grace when losing. When interviewed he wins prizes for spouting clichés in a dull monotone. I’d rather watch paint dry than listen to him bore away for Scotland. He is utterly charisma free off the court and he does not even seem to have a charming family like “Tiger” Tim Henman did.

I would naturally rather be supporting someone who did not despise me for my accent; had the demeanour and manners of Tiger Tim and the charisma of, at least, John Lloyd ( another not very good British player of my youth but who at least had the charm to pull Chris Evert). But that is not my choice. The choice is between a man who is the world number 1, for whom winning is routine and who is expected to win (“The Fed”) or Murray. Whether he likes it or not (he does not) Murray is British and so am I and so I support him for that and as the underdog.

But I do so not with any great enthusiasm. Would I rather watch the game or check out the Swedish birds on the beach? Given that most of the Swedish birds appear to be twice my age it is not as clear cut as you might think. I am really not sure that I care enough to think much about it. I hope that when I discover the score “our boy” has won but I cannot say that I hope with any great fervour.