Updated January 15, 2019 07:34:23

"I'm gonna try this, and it's not going to be easy."

Choking back tears, those were Andy Murray's words on Wimbledon's Centre Court after suffering his fourth-straight grand slam final defeat in 2012.

When the 31-year-old Scot announced this Australian Open might be his last dance, his troublesome hip finally causing more pain than even this most belligerent of players could cope with, the tears were born of a similar source.

Disappointment, pain and above all, frustration.

Murray's Centre Court statement was the Scot openly ruminating on how he would manage to put his disappointment into words front of his expectant home crowd.

In another context though, he could have been talking about his entire tennis career in which nothing came easily.

And although his retirement is by no means certain, despite the warming tributes following his dramatic defeat to Roberto Bautista Agut, if he is forced into calling it quits, when Murray looks back on his career, his impact will be felt not only by fans of British tennis — for whom his coming was akin to that of a messiah — but for all fans of sportsmanship and equality in sport.

A fantastic player in an exceptional era

Photo: Andy Murray won Wimbledon twice, laying to rest the ghost of Fred Perry. (Reuters: Stefan Wermuth)

Up to the point at which Murray had reached — and lost — the 2012 Wimbledon final, he had already made three grand slam finals, and lost in each of them.

Twice those defeats came at the hands of Swiss maestro Roger Federer and once to Novak Djokovic — two thirds of the greatest triumvirate of tennis players the world has ever seen.

That pair — as well as Rafael Nadal — with their astonishing haul of 51 grand slam titles, have left little room for interlopers, no matter how talented.

However, Murray sat fourth or higher in the world rankings for eight of the nine years between September 2008 and October 2017, underlining his status as one of the so-called "Big Four" despite his relative paucity of success in majors.

Although he would end his career with an admirable return of three major titles, two Olympic gold medals and a Davis Cup, at times it must have felt like Murray was hitting balls against a brick wall such was the quality of the opponent staring at him from over the net.

Yet that is exactly how Murray played the game himself, doggedly refusing to give up on lost causes by returning impossible shots and extending rallies far beyond their natural conclusion.

That tenacity and all-court coverage may have contributed to the premature degeneration of his body that left the once sprightly Scotsman limping around like a man double his age and half his physical ability.

"I can still play to a level, but not a level I am happy playing at," Murray said at his pre-Australian Open press conference.

"The pain is too much really. I don't want to continue playing that way."

And neither should he, other than perhaps to summon the energy for one last hurrah at Wimbledon, where he won the 2013 and 2016 titles whilst shouldering the burden of history and expectation of a success-starved nation — the latter of which helped propel him to a 47-week tenancy as world number one.

If he can limp his way back to SW19, it would be to a remarkable ovation at a venue where he achieved so much, despite sharing the stage with three of the greatest of all time.

If he justifiably decides not to and is forced into retirement after this defeat, he should rest easy knowing he achieved everything he was capable of.

Tennis' nearly-man?

Photo: Murray played in five Australian Open finals, losing all of them. (AAP: Tracey Nearmy)

After the straight-sets defeat in the 2012 Wimbledon final to Federer, it appeared nothing Murray would try on the court would work, leaving him forever destined to sit in the shadows as a bit-part player in tennis's greatest era.

Then came the breakthrough.

Barely a month later, Murray came face to face with Federer again in the Olympic final.

Only this time, he won, claiming the first of two consecutive Olympic singles gold medals — the only player to achieve that feat since tennis' reintroduction to the Games in Seoul '88.

Later that year, Murray became the first British man to win a grand slam singles crown in the Open era, doing it the hard way after surrendering a two-set lead to prevail in a five-hour epic against Djokovic at Flushing Meadows.

Murray would cement his legacy with a dramatic Wimbledon triumph in 2013 — again over Djokovic — ending Britain's 73-year wait for a men's singles title, forever exorcising the ghost of Fred Perry that had smothered every British hopeful that stepped onto Centre Court since World War II.

The commentator aptly remarked midway through that extraordinary final game, "sporting immortality doesn't come easy".

He wasn't wrong.

Djokovic — a player Murray would meet in seven major finals — would have his revenge the following year in Melbourne, winning that final in three sets — the third of a record five final defeats at the Australian Open for Murray, four of them at the Serbian's hands.

In fact, his Australian Open record illustrates a snapshot of just how close Murray would come to winning more slams during his career.

Murray reached 11 major finals in total — the equal ninth most of all time — and 21 semi-finals, eighth on the list.

No player with those numbers has come so close to glory for such (comparatively) little return.

British when he wins, Scottish when he loses

Photo: Andy Murray's impact on British sport will be felt for decades. (Reuters: Thomas Peter)

Murray's personal journey to the summit of world tennis is a triumph against adversity.

An eight-year-old Murray (as well as older brother Jamie) survived the Dunblane Primary School massacre, when 16 of his younger school mates and their teacher were gunned down in the school gym.

Murray, who rarely talks of the experience, was mentored in tennis by his irrepressible mother Judy before moving to Spain to further his development.

Yet despite his triumphs, Murray's relationship with the British crowd was sometimes inexplicably strained, stemming from a misunderstood joke in 2006 when he said he'd support anyone who was playing England in the upcoming World Cup.

Perhaps it was his on-court sullenness and frequent self-admonishment that irked people, or the incorrect assumption of a supposedly dour temperament.

However the incredible response from Murray's fellow professionals to his impending retirement should speak volumes about his private demeanour.

Murray's friendship and ongoing support of the tour's designated bad-boy Nick Kyrgios led to a heartfelt tribute from the Australian on social media — the two sharing a commonality in being misunderstood stars.

His direct impact outside of his victories has been to help nurture the careers of Britain's future male stars — two of whom (Kyle Edmund and Cameron Norrie) are now in the top 100.

Yet Murray blossomed in spite of a system that created such a dearth of talent that Britain's eight-decade search for a male grand slam champion could well have continued for another 80 years had he not emerged from the mire.

Memorably, Murray also won Britain a Davis Cup almost single-handedly in 2015, its first since Perry inspired victory in 1936.

During that campaign, Murray won an extraordinary 11 rubbers in total — the maximum eight singles ties (only the third player to do so) and three doubles ties with his brother Jamie.

His delight at claiming victory did not stop him from disentangling himself from his teammates and commiserating with his vanquished Belgian opponents either, just a glimpse of Murray's undeniable sportsmanship coming to the fore.

His two Olympic medals came in a sport where plenty of big names have been accused of a lack of effort when only glory is on the line, not a healthy pay check.

Sir Andy — Murray was knighted in 2017 — has claimed that one of his proudest moments was carrying the Union flag during that Olympics.

Photo: Andy Murray says leading Team GB at the Rio Olympics is one of his best memories. (Reuters: Kai Pfaffenbach)

Equality campaigner

If this is the end, Murray's lasting legacy may not be what he achieved on the court, but what he has contributed off it.

A proud feminist, the Scotsman has been quick to correct journalists for their phrasing of questions, pointedly reminding one scribe in 2017 that Sam Querrey was the first "male" American player to reach the semi-final of a Slam since 2009, rather than simply the first American.

Serena Williams reached 20 grand slam semi-finals in that period — winning 14 titles — to name just one.

He also corrected John Inverdale of the BBC after winning his second Olympic gold medal when asked: "You're the first person ever to win two Olympic tennis gold medals. That's an extraordinary feat, isn't it?"

"Well, to defend the singles title," Murray said, correctly adding, "I think Venus and Serena [Williams] have won about four each …"

Murray became the first leading male player to hire a female coach in 2014, Amelie Mauresmo, even facing criticism over the decision.

That prejudice towards Mauresmo directed Murray down a path of campaigning for equality in the game, both in terms of pay and exposure to show courts — a stance at odds with some of his contemporaries.

"It really opened my eyes when I started working with Amelie. Inequality is something I started to see. And become passionate about. It's opened my mind."

Murray has frequently advocated for equal pay for women, earning him plenty of admirers, including Billie Jean King, who tweeted saying: "Your voice for equality will inspire future generations."

Whatever Murray's future holds, don't count against him maintaining a public presence in the continued fight for equality in the sport.

It might not be easy, but easy has never been Murray's style.

Topics: tennis, sport, australian-open, australia, vic, melbourne-3000

First posted January 15, 2019 07:31:35