Shortly before shooting an unsuspecting dog in the back with an air rifle in an Edinburgh park, Sick Boy imparts his philosophy to Renton. “At some point you understood. Then you lose it and it’s gone forever. From all walks of life. For example, George Best. There was, I lost it. Or David Bowie, Lou Reed. Charlie Nicholas, David Niven, Malcolm McLaren, Elvis Presley.”
“So we’re all getting old, we can’t hack it anymore, that’s all? Is that your theory?”
“Yes.”
Andy Murray? The acute impact of the serious injury on his body makes Sick Boy analysis overly simplistic, but the general logic isn’t entirely crazy. Don’t you dare tell Murray the Trainspotting analogy.
These are troubling times for one of Britain’s greatest ever sportsmen. In his own assessment, Murray finds himself in a “terrible moment” following his first-round defeat to world No. 112 Benoît Paire at the French Open Sud. Murray exited the Australian Open at the same point; Six of the last seven tournament matches ended in a first-round loss. The 36-year-old has not advanced beyond the third round at a grand slam event since 2017. All evidence suggests that a remarkable career has come to a halt. If people didn’t question Murray’s longevity, something would be wrong.
Murray does not have the presence of mind to accept such an assessment. BBC Scotland tennis correspondent Kheredine Idessane’s midweek article sparked outrage from the three-time grand slam winner on social media. “It was an incredible journey by an extraordinary man,” Idessane said. “And it’s a great privilege to witness so much of that.” This was followed by a completely harmless opinion piece written by a completely harmless person. One sentence angered Murray: “At what point does brave military service begin to undermine his legacy?”
The language was perhaps clumsy, but the idea of an athlete remaining in place well beyond what is healthy for himself or a society that has to watch through their fingers is not a new one. Think of Ian Rush at Wrexham or Billy Casper, who scored 106 points at the 2005 Masters. It is important to choose a suitable moment to submit because in the modern world people have short memories.
“Taint my legacy?” Murray posted this. “Do me a favor. In my situation right now, most people would give up and give up. But I’m not most people and my mind works differently. I won’t give up. I’ll keep fighting and working to put in the performances I know I’m capable of.”
“I’m not most people,” he said. No, he’s a tennis player. He’s an unconventional guy – one who encourages millions who normally can’t tell the difference between two and juice to focus on the sport for a few weeks a year – but a tennis player nonetheless. Assessing one’s own “legacy” feels like a dangerous rabbit hole to go down.
In 2019, Murray actually announced his own retirement. The extent of his physical and psychological distress depicted in the excellent documentary Resurfacing, made his subsequent comeback seem against all odds. But the truth is that retirement was not a foreign concept to him. He didn’t admit it in December either: “It could have been last year, yes.” All of which makes Tuesday’s outburst puzzling, unless the subtext is Murray and Murray pontificating on his own about his own future.
It has various branches. Murray should be encouraged to use his social media account to offer genuine opinion. His mocking of Nigel Farage and his harsh comments on Brexit were widely celebrated. He also has every right to object to the column in question; As the subject of the article, this is entirely his right. Murray’s competitive instincts clearly remain intact. Thorniness is good; even a Scottish trait. Murray’s obvious desire to progress in a physically demanding sport where many players are younger and fitter is admirable. Tiger Woods only had to worry about the hills of Augusta National during his 2019 redemption story. Murray has men serving him at 120 mph.
But Murray should not forget that he has been hero-worshipped by many elements of the British media since his rise to prominence. When he swears and shouts at Wimbledon matches, the BBC turns the other cheek. His behavior just now was that of a man who was not used to even mild criticism. By tagging Murray in his article, Idessane knew he was inviting a response. Whether it’s wise for a sports icon with 3.5 million followers on X to allow his following to pile up is open to debate.
Even more striking — and not in a good way — was the desire of famous faces to enjoy Murray’s post. They had to bow down at the feet of St. Andy. “DON’T GIVE IT TO THE HATERS!” It caused vomiting. Irvine Welsh, author of Trainspotting, has jumped to the defense of his fellow Scot. Sharron Davies did the same. Martina Navratilova spoke. Andy Roddick looked particularly confused. “Imagine telling an iconic successful adult your opinion on what she should choose for work and when she should do it.” wrote the former US Open champion. “This is such a stupid, thirsty article. We can’t take away an inheritance. Success lives forever.” Roddick must live in a terribly guarded world where athletes are forbidden from making any outside analysis that contradicts themselves. He probably took the trouble to read the disturbing 696 words praising Murray’s achievements.
Next year Wimbledon will celebrate 20 years since Murray first attended the championships. There is a natural conclusion to a remarkable run. But getting to that point seems like an uphill battle right now. No one should hesitate to express this obvious truth. Murray’s aides are not doing him any favors.