Andy Murray: The “New Kid on the Block” is Tennis’s New Byronic Hero
Once upon a time, Andy Murray used to be the “New Kid on the Block”. And with every new kid on the block are attached great expectations. Back in 2006 when Andy Murray first started to stand bold in the eyes of the tennis-watching population of the world, the
Brits cherished the thought of finally having a Grand Slam winner to their name – an aspiration yet to come true in the men’s category. However, there is still much in the “young” Scot that deserves applause – on
and off the court.
First things first, the man is one heck of a player. He might not have Federer’s “class” or Nadal’s physicality, but he has one thing that all tennis players know matters the most in the end – the mind. As a result, there wouldn’t be one particular aspect
of his game that would strike a lay-watcher as remarkable – like Roddick’s booming serve or Nadal’s superhuman passing shots would, for instance – but let me take the liberty of saying that
that… is the whole point of it. That’s the point of his game. Andy Murray is what they call a “choker”. That is to say, he would keep on putting the ball back into the court until his opponent
himself gives the point away – also known as choking. An occasional winner or two obviously doesn’t hurt, but that’s not what he relies on to get him the win. And, yet, the million dollar question is – what, then,
is so remarkable about his game? There’s no ferocious Nadal-like top spin, nor any subtle Federer-like angles; nothing flashy to catch people’s eye. So – in raw, capitalistic terms – what is it that would
sell Andy Murray’s game?
This is where the off-court factor ironically comes into play. For those who admire Andy Murray as a person – which would be half the population on the British Isles and approximately five other people in the rest of the world, I admit – his dejection has
a certain kind of attraction. Attraction not just in the “Andy will you marry me?” kind of way – we all, of course, remember the “Steffi will you marry me?” and the more recent “Nadal will you marry me?” events – but a much more asexual attraction, if you’re
ready to buy that.
For one thing, he is completely – and I mean completely – devoid of what we call affectation. You would never catch him laughing at his own jokes in an interview to seem (unduly) amicable– something most of the ladies are quite habitually fond of,
by the way – nor would you ever see him playing a Djokovicesque joker on the TV to win fans over (a recent attempt at that in the form of the popular Roland Garros karaoke failed… yeah, just failed).
Oh and of course, he’s not the “nice guy” Rafael Nadal is, either. Let’s just say, Andy Murray doesn’t like to socialize with that stranger we call the camera - OR its human counterparts.
However, on the other hand, if you happen to follow him on Twitter, you would find out that within his own circle of friends – and as it turns out, his own circle of “fans”, as well – he can be both fun
and funny. So, let us also just say that he simply has certain reservations in revealing his nicer, funnier, chummier (alright maybe he doesn’t have that – not all of us are
Goodness Gracious Me lovers, after all) side. He is what our nineteenth century predecessors called the “Byronic Hero”. Tennis’s Byronic Hero – more significantly, tennis’s
only Byronic Hero. Believe me, the women loved him back then, and the women still love him today (and what else do you think are Heathcliffe and Edward Cullen?). Heck even some men love him!
And what does this signify? Only that Andy Murray should by no means try to change himself – on-court or off-court. The dejected body language, the “wolfish growl” that some people call his distinctive “come on!” yell… is all original. It is him. It is
exclusively him. And while some people are willing to respect and admire people just because they are on the outside what they are on the inside, others are plain and simple attracted to the Byronic Man, be him genuine or superficial. Simply put: the
angry young man persona S E L L S. Ask your grandparents about the 1950s Marlon Brando if you don’t believe me. So, like there’re no other motivational forces left, Andy Murray should stick to being himself for the money.
No more karaokes at Roland Garros.
(THE WRITERS OPINIONS ARE HIS OWN)
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