Andy Murray

It wasn't an innocent 'Anyone for tennis', but a cheeky 'Anyone but England' that landed Andy Murray love-40 down in Brit popularity rankings three years ago. Now that the erstwhile surly Scot has the advantage of a world number three professional tennis ranking, his throwaway remark about not supporting England's chances in the World Cup seems all but forgotten. Murray's increased chance of reaching a Wimbledon semi-final – if not winning the championship itself – has rehabilitated him with a particular type of stiff-upper-lip sports commentator looking for a Henman-esque hero.


But – among anyone-but-England tennis fans, as he might have once put it – that Wimbledon obsession with national pride and gentlemanly behaviour is much more likely to provoke disapproving grunts louder than a Williams sister serve. Watching All England Club tennis is the perfect sport for the fan who likes to argue from the comfort of their armchair against any whiff of jingoism, picking a favourite player not just for their ability on court, or nationality, but, it has to be said, often for their personality, style and looks too. In Andy Murray, now looking less grungy in his new Fred Perry kit, viewers who also relish the possibility of a little swearing and sulking to break the monotony of 120 mile-an-hour aces tend not to be disappointed. At last year's Rome Masters, he was accused of uttering an 'obscenity' after his Argentinian opponent, Juan Martin Del Potro, allegedly insulted Murray's mother Judy. After winning the match, he fumed: "I will accept lots of things, but not when someone insults my mum – the nicest person in the world."


Mamma Murray's influence on the sporting prowess of her two sons – Andy's older brother Jamie Murray is a Wimbledon doubles champion – is legendary. Judy Murray's own talent as a tennis player and coach has been frequently acknowledged by her youngest son in interviews, and she is a regular fixture on the centre-court stands, cheering him on. He is more reluctant to talk about his survival of the Dunblane massacre in 1996. Murray was just seven years old when former scout leader Thomas Hamilton killed 16 young children and a teacher at the local primary school. In his recent autobiography, Hitting Back, the player broke his silence in customary, forthright style, dismissing any speculation that it had a profound effect on his character. He was too young, he says, to realise how close he had come to being killed. "It's not like I understood what was happening. You can't grasp things like that. Not many people can remember what happened at that age – I have only retained patchy impressions of that day, such as being in a classroom singing songs. The weirdest thing was that we knew the guy – he had been in my mum's car. Then to find out he's a murderer was something my brain couldn't cope with."


Never much enamoured of school in the first place – and to this day Murray says he hates reading – the two active young brothers coped with village life by losing themselves in sports. Judy Murray became less involved with their tennis coaching, and eventually Jamie went to Paris to train, Andy to Barcelona. Their former childish competitiveness changed to sibling support when they separated and Andy started winning singles tournaments, his brother winning doubles. His unswerving self-belief wasn't affected by his parents' divorce and he credits them both with encouraging his confidence and commitment. "I'd chat to my mum about tennis, and with my dad I'd play golf, squash and football. He's very relaxed but if he had to, he disciplined me and Jamie. No swearing and stuff, though. My dad has to take a lot of credit. I'm sure he's happy with the way we have handled ourselves." Going to Barcelona, at just 15, only increased his ingrained resilience: "I never got homesick," he recalls. "You just have to learn to look after yourself. I had to learn a new culture and make new friends and be on my own a bit. It was the best preparation for my career because I just became more independent and took more responsibility for what I did."


With his victory in the Aegon Championships at Queens Club last week, and now ranked third behind reigning Wimbledon champion Rafael Nadal and previous five-times-in-a-row winner Roger Federer, the talk is all about Murray's chances of becoming the first British player to win the All England Club title since Fred Perry in 1936. He has beaten Federer in their last four outings. As for Nadal, Murray lost to him in straight sets in last year's Wimbledon quarter finals. But a year – in which he has trained hard, increased his fitness levels, and added muscle to that rangy 6' 3" frame – could make all the difference to his chances of making history in this, the 100th centenary of Fred Perry's birth.


"I just feel I can do it mentally. I feel like I'm ready," he has said. More mature, more controlled, and exhibiting a dry humour previously considered as dourness, he's likely unconcerned that, if he wins, Wimbledon commentators will claim him as British, but if he loses, he'll be Scottish. Either way, Murray has dismissed that reputation for being anti-Sassenach – girlfriend Kim Sears is English after all, as are most of his back-up team. Being the best is not about nationality, it's about hard work, sacrifice and discipline, says the pragmatic Scot.


"I don't think you are born to do anything. You can have talent but hard work is the difference. It's down to motivation and work ethic. The guys at the top of the game are the ones who work the hardest."