Hitting Back (4 page)

I had a lot of friends when I was growing up because I used
to play football all the time. Even when I was ten I was trying
to balance it with playing tennis. I loved it. I played striker or
left midfield and when I was twelve I was actually playing more
football than tennis. I spent a while playing for Gairdoch
United, but the coach wouldn't put me in the team often
because I couldn't make all the training sessions.

They were a feeder team for Rangers and when I was
thirteen I was offered a place at their Academy. I remember
being told about it when I was eating at McDonald's. I
thought, we all thought, that would be great. But then it came
to crunch time. I was at tennis practice with my coach Leon
Smith at the Stirling University courts and my dad came to pick
me up after only forty-five minutes because I had to go to
football. I just looked at Dad and said: 'I can't do this. I can't
leave now. I want to go back and finish my practice,' and Dad
said, 'Fine.' He never tried to stop me. I didn't play football for
another seven months after that.

I was a good footballer, but how was I to know whether I
was the 1,000th best player in Britain or 10th best? There isn't
a ranking system like there is in tennis. I preferred playing
football at that age, but I didn't know how good I was. It is a
risky business. It can come down to a scout's decision. If the
day he comes to watch, you play badly, there might not be
another chance. In tennis by that stage I'd won some competitions.
I knew I was a good tennis player, one of the best in
Europe, and that kind of swung my decision.

I'd also been through a few times when I thought I wanted
to stop playing tennis. I'd say to my mum: 'I don't want to play
any more' and give up for a couple of weeks, but then I'd think:
'Maybe I do want to play after all.' I never got pushed into
playing tennis which was good of my parents because they
could see I had talent. Mum and Dad always said to me: 'As
long as you're happy, that's the most important thing. As long
as you are doing something.' They impressed on me that even
if you're earning lots of money, it's no good if you are doing
something you hate.

I'm sure that's why I stayed in tennis. Mum was a tennis
coach but she was never pushy in any way. You hear so many
stories of tennis parents pushing their kids to play every single
day, three hours a day, home-schooling their kids, and it's
tough. It works sometimes, but they might not necessarily be
happy. In an individual sport like tennis you need to enjoy it to
continue playing.

Gradually we went to more and more tournaments, and the
one that really stands out in my mind is the Orange Bowl I won
in Miami when I was eleven. It was recognised as the unofficial
World Championships for the Under-12s and it was the first
time I'd ever left Europe.

I went over there with Leon, first to prepare at the
Harry Hopman School at Saddlebrook. I could hardly believe
the place with its massive swimming pool, loads of courts
and a golf course designed by Arnold Palmer – not to
mention sunshine in December, which would be a pretty rare
sight for a Scottish boy like me. It was awesome. I really
enjoyed it.

But funnily enough, though, the thing I most remember –
maybe typically – is losing a practice match. I was playing
a guy called Jose Muguruza. He was two years older than
me and I lost a close set. I was really annoyed on the way
back to the villa where Leon and I were staying with three
other boys.

'What's wrong with you? Why are you so annoyed?' Leon
said. 'You don't see Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi getting like
that on court, do you?'

'It's because they are where I want to be and I won't be
happy until I get there,' I replied.

Maybe that was the fire that took me through the whole
tournament. I don't think anybody really expected me to get
that far. I know that because I didn't have enough clothes with
me. When Mum and Gran came out to Miami to watch, the
first thing they had to do was find a laundry somewhere and
wash all my things.

The Under-12s event was played in a public park, not
glamorous at all, with a small clubhouse alongside and the
crowd watching from the roof of the building. I could see Leon
at one end of the roof and my mum at the other, because she
doesn't like to talk to people when she's watching me. Gran
was in the middle, sewing sponsors' labels on new shirts that
she and Mum had run out to buy.

When I won the tournament, beating a Czech guy called
Tomas Piskacek 6–4 6–1 in the final, it was the day before
Christmas Eve. Apparently, I presented the Orange Bowl
trophy to my gran and said: 'Here you are, Gran. Take that
home and fill it with one of your fresh fruit salads and we can
have it with vanilla ice cream for Christmas Day.' She did. She
was very reliable like that.

There were only a couple of other junior tournaments that
made a real impression. One was Les Petits, an Under-14s in
Tarbes, France, a sort of European equivalent of the Orange
Bowl. It provided the best competition on the continent, plus
my favourite brand of French vanilla yoghurt. No wonder I've
always remembered it. Previous winners of the title included
Rafa Nadal, Richard Gasquet and Martina Hingis, so it can't
be a bad sign of a player's progress. Pretty much anyone who
has won there has gone on to become a top-100 player and I
reached the final.

To get there, I'd beaten Novak Djokovic, who was a week
younger than me, in the semi-final, and then in the final I faced
the Russian Alexanger Krasnorutsky and held a match point
against him. He was serving – game point for him, match
point for me because of the sudden-death deuce rule we were
playing. I can still remember the shot that I missed. It was a backhand.
I'd hit a drop shot, he came to the net, I went for the
backhand but couldn't quite reach. Then I lost the final set 6–3.

I definitely remember crying afterwards. I called my mum
and told her I'd lost when I should have won. It made it worse
that I'd seen the trophy and the engraved names of all the star
players who had won there. Mum said a lot of brilliant players
had played in the final and lost, like Mario Ancic, so that made
me feel a bit better, but I was still pretty down because I knew
how big the tournament was. Everyone was so disappointed
for me. I felt it badly. A lot of people had come to watch. The
crowd was about 2,000 strong. As junior tournaments go, it
was second only to the Slams.

Almost every other weekend I was playing somewhere. Most
I can't remember any more. I know I won the warm-up event
for Tarbes at Telford because I earned myself a scooter, one of
those little metal fold-ups that were popular at the time. My
doubles partner Andrew Kennaugh and I promptly set up a
racing track round our hotel car park which was a little bit
ridiculous but fun at the time. I've still got that scooter in the
garage.

It wasn't all about winning, though. At that age, I went
through a stage of losing confidence and struggling. I was
suddenly losing to Andrew who I usually used to beat easily.
Everyone seemed to be getting stronger than me. I was growing
in height but I wasn't filling out. I was quite weak. It took me
to the middle of my fifteenth year to beat Andrew 6–0 6–1 in
an ITF event in Nottingham. By then I'd given up football. I'd
decided to devote myself to tennis and that commitment made
a big difference.

I loved all sports, I was obsessed with sport, but at some
point in life you have to make up your mind to specialise. As I
got older I started playing golf and going to loads of boxing,
which is now my favourite sport to watch. I went to my first
live boxing match in Glasgow to see Audley Harrison top the
bill. I'll never forget it. We walked through the door, Jamie and
I, and there was a little guy with his gloves and boxing shorts
on walking towards us, shouting, swearing and completely
gone. His face was battered and bright red. He looked
completely beaten up. He walked right past us and out of the
door.

When we got to our seats the people sitting next to us said:
'You should have seen what's just happened. The last guy
nearly got killed.' It was intense and intimidating and like
nothing I'd experienced before. I realised that tennis was a
completely different thing altogether. Tennis matches can be
tense but these guys are getting lumps hit out of them. I have
so much respect for them.

I don't really know why I love boxing so much. It's not
bloodlust. I've never been in a fight in my life. I'm not a
violent type. It's not my nature off the court. I don't
particularly like arguing. I can't think of anything worse, to
be honest, than to be in a punch-up with someone. I've been
in the ring with Amir Khan, but the only thing I hit with a
glove was his punchbag.

But when you're there at ringside, it's so intense, the anticipation
is so great, the fighters are so close to one another in the
ring, I get really nervous. I've been close enough to get slightly
splattered in blood when Scott Harrison fought in Glasgow.
Even that didn't put me off. It puts tennis in perspective. I can't
believe how tough those guys have to be. It's scary.

I've been a bit of a geek when it comes to boxing ever since.
I'm friends with the Scottish super featherweight, Alex Arthur.
I think I surprised him when we met by knowing so much
about him. It's because, whenever boxing is on TV, whether
it's the Portuguese national championships or a heavyweight
title fight, I'll watch it. I know the results of almost all the
fights for the last three or four years. I am that bad.

I suppose the only sport you could say I didn't enjoy much
was rugby. I hardly played it at all, but for some reason I
remember going along, aged eight, to mini rugby at Stirling
county for the first time. The coach had never seen me before
and I had never watched a rugby match, never mind played in
one. So when I got the ball and started running in the opposite
direction from our try line, everyone was shouting: 'You're
going the wrong way! YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG
WAY!' All I was doing was running in a half-moon, round the
defence, and going down to score a try.

It's not my kind of sport. It seems to me the same thing is
happening all the time. A guy kicks a ball into touch and gets
a round of applause. I don't understand that at all.

Golf Jamie and I took up as we got older. We were members
at the country club at Gleneagles and that had a short 9-hole
course which was perfect for us. Also Gran and Grandpa were
members of the Dunblane Golf Club and used to take us out if
we pestered them enough. I think they quite liked the fact that
they could still beat us. They were pretty sick and tired of
losing to us at tennis. They were both self-taught tennis players
and had really odd strokes. Gran tells me that I used to get
really cross with them when I was little and shout: 'Grandpa,
play properly' when he was playing one of his weird-looking
forehands. He maintains he invented topspin.

Jamie became really good at golf at one stage, playing off a
handicap of three. Maybe he was taking after my Uncle Keith
who is a golf pro in America. Gran always says she feels sorry
for my other uncle, Niall, because by the time she had ferried
Keith to all his golf tournaments and my mum to all her tennis
tournaments, there was no time to ferry Niall anywhere. He
became an optician.

My dad is a really good golfer too: he still plays off nine.
He's also a member of a squash team and he still plays five-aside
football. It was fun for Jamie and me to play any sport
with him because he is as competitive as we are.

Obviously, I saw so much of Mum when I was younger
because she was my first tennis coach, but there are many
things for which I can thank my dad. He was the one who used
to discipline me more, and who used to be hard on me about
getting into trouble at school or not doing my homework or
saying a swear word by mistake. I still don't swear in front of
my dad to this day – in front of millions on the television in
matches, but never in front of Dad.

However, I do remember him saying once: 'Don't take shit
from anyone.' This was brilliant advice for when I was sent to
Spain and had to look after myself. When you're that age, kids
will tease you and you can get into fights. The stuff Dad had
told me and the discipline he gave me when I was younger,
really helped once I was out there on my own.

My parents separated when I was about ten. I guess when
any couple separates, it is difficult, but we were so young, we
didn't really understand. You understand it more as you get
older. Obviously it was a bit strange at the time to see Mum
and Dad in different houses, but I reckon the experience will
help me in later life with certain things. I will always want to
try and achieve a steady relationship because it is not the
nicest thing when your parents split up. I've had the same
girlfriend, Kim, for a long time now and I will try hard to
make it work.

But although it was difficult at the time, Jamie and I love
Mum and Dad just the same. If you take into account all the
things they have done for us both, I am sure they took us into
consideration. It certainly was not made as awkward as it
could be for us. I've seen what some parents can be like during
a divorce, but ours obviously tried to keep any hard feelings
away from us. We were lucky, Jamie and I, that as brothers we
could do so many things together, but we never talked about
the separation much. We speak about things more now than
we did when we were younger.

*

Most people don't have a childhood that comes to an abrupt
end on a certain date. Things change slowly. In my case,
however, everything changed one day in September 2002:
country, weather, family, friends, language, food, life. I went
from being a boy in Dunblane to a tennis player in Spain. It
was scary, but it was awesome too.