I didn’t watch Andy Murray

Written by: Staff on 25th January 2013

I didn’t watch Andy Murray

epa03555006 Andy Murray of Great Britain during his semi final match against Roger Federer of Switzerland at the Australian Open Grand Slam tennis tournament in Melbourne, Australia, 25 January 2013. EPA/Mark Kolbe Pool uses. Use in books requires separate approval. NO LICENSING FOR CONSUMER PRINTS. |

An office worker’s tale of hope and frustration trying to follow a sports event on the otherside of the world.

Friday morning, 8am. My youngest child has to be taken to the childminder, the wife has already been given a lift to the train station – there’s still patches of snow outside, don’t want her slipping over. Both children are ushered into the car after a quick check of the build-up on television. Not much was gathered from the big-match pre-amble, as it was interrupted by shouts of “Dad Olly’s eating my breakfast!” (He’s a glutten that boy) and “Daddy Olly’s taking his shoes off” (You can see why she finds her younger brother annoying).

I drive fast – not too fast – the kid is pretty much hoiked out of the car and handed over to Marti, she’s saying something to me but I’m already back in the car and putting the seatbelt on. As I pull away I lower the window and shout out “Medicine is in the bag, one teaspoon before lunch ok?” and ruby and I are back home.

Requests for Mickey’s Clubhouse are denied, it’s back to the sports channel and the players are out on court. Rush to the kitchen, flick on the kettle, tidy away the breakfast, get coats ready, all that sort of thing. They’re still knocking up. The clock hits 8.40am, they haven’t started and we have to leave to get the bus to school. I’m not going to see a single ball struck in anger! Set the system to record the match and leave the house for the bus stop.

Eldest child into school; yadda yadda yadda with the mums at the school gate “Oh very nice, see you later” and all that sort of thing going on. Get on a second bus that takes me to work and disaster strikes. I get sucked in to reading someone’s blog from a link they post on twitter, it’s awful bitter nonsense, but worst of all my battery is about 2%. I open the Australian Open official app, giving me access to live scores and match stats – select scores, men’s singles – phone dies.

An agonising half hour passes before I’m at the office and can plug my phone in. Stupid phone. The screen springs to life: Murray has won the first set 6-4! Get in you beauty! It’s on serve in the second game of the second set and I can see Murray’s hit 5 aces to Federer’s 0. Murray’s won 83% of his first serve points, incredible – both the stats and the fact that I can get those stats on my phone.

The boss comes over to my desk, phone is popped into the top drawer and the match will have to wait. Oh goodness there’s some paperwork form yesterday that needs processing “like, yesterday” apparently so I’ve got to leave them to it for a while.

Check the phone quickly – it’s 3-4 with Murray serving in the second set. Check it again a quarter of an hour later. The boss isn’t looking, I can watch the tiebreak! It’s a strange sensation, a juxtaposition of new and old – watching numbers denoting scores instead of an actual game, but on a tiny device on the other side of the world form the action. If you use a bit of imagination, it’s an acceptable substitute (As long as you remember to hit record before you leave home – yes I did, I remember – and can watch it later on).

The phone rings, it’s just before half ten. Urgh no-one else picks up. The call demands attention, work needs doing so the phone goes back in the drawer again. I eventually hang up and I’m shocked to see 20 minutes have gone! Federer won the tiebreak by the looks of it and it’s 6-4, 7-6, 2-2 Murray serving. The ace count is now 12-3 to Murray.

Colleagues are trying to engage me in the usual office chit-chat, I try to ignore them but don’t want to be rude, and I can’t exactly tell them 2I’m watching numbers update on my phone!” because they think I’m crazy… if they don’t already.

So it’s 2-2 and 0-30 on Andy’s serve, 15-15. I can imagine him trying to compose himself between shots, asking for a towel, bouncing the ball, one more pause… 30-15, that was quick, must’ve been a big serve. It wasn’t an ace though, that’s not changed. Oh you’re kidding me the boss is coming over again! Just as put my phone away in the draw the last thing I see is it’s 30-30 all of a sudden.

It’s five minutes before I can see if Murray held…. He did! And it’s 0-30 in Federer’s service game. Then 0-40, three break points! Go on man, break break break! The phone goes – unbelievable.

Back ‘online’ it’s now 11.09, Murray has 16 aces at this point, but more importantly he got the break and won the third set! Go go go go!

The next set, Murray wants to win this one to get into the final. He’s serving, it’s 1-2 and 0-40 oh no. Hang in there Andy! Someone asks me a question, I look back and it’s 30-40. Wait – maybe I shouldn’t watch for a while… Maybe I’m bad luck? I go to the kitchenette to make a cup of tea. The usual thing happens, it’s like everyone was just waiting for some foolish person to touch the kettle – lots of shouts of “Oh I’ll have one, cheers Tom” “Two sugars please mate” etc etc so I have to make a pot of the stuff.

Besides all the interruptions like my boss and the phone ringing, there is actually work to be done. It’s a tennis match, not the 100m sprint final – I can cool it for a short while, surely. 11.43 I have a quick look at the scores. By the looks of things, Murray was broken, but he’s broken Federer back, it’s 3*-4 and deuce. Blimey. If Federer breaks here it could be pivotal. I scroll down the page on my phone and check out the break point conversion rates. Both are 25%; Federer is ¼ and Murray is 3/12. Wow, he’s had 12 break points against Federer, he must be playing really well. He’s also ahead 17-5 on aces (16 was his previous best against Fed, in the Olympic final I think) and an incredible 49-34 winners. That’s the new power the boy’s got!

Murray holds, the phone goes back in the drawer for a while. Deadlines aren’t going to respect the tennis! I can imagine the players must look exhausted now, at the end of the 4th set. I reckon super-fit Murray must be the favourite from here. It’s not long before my resistance cracks and the phone is out again, this time hidden within a file I’m pretending to read. Murray holds to love, awesome. The folder has to close temporarily, as the boss’ boss comes over for a chinwag – the big boss! Go away man!

Finally the big boss leaves and I can catch up with events in Australia. Murray’s up 0-40 – if he breaks here he’s serving for the match! Woah, I decide that this must be watched. So I find and empty meeting room and pace up and down watching numbers change on a screen. Ridiculous really. Goodness there’s been nothing happen for ages, must be a long changeover, maybe someone’s called a medical time out? Comfort break?? What’s going on over there??? Nothing’s happ.. oh 15-0 that’s the ticket Andy just serve it out. Oh and then the horror! 15-15 don’t you dare! 30-30 Jeez it must be tense out there. 30-40 please don’t get broken straight back Andy, please don’t get broken. On my gosh, he lost his serve. The Murray malaise of losing serve right after a break is just as agonising even when you’re not watching exactly what’s happening.

It’s 6-6 and I know exactly what’s going to happen in the tiebreak. I can’t watch it. I refuse. The phone goes in the pocket, not to be taken out again. Federer will coolly take the tiebreak then he’ll win the 5th set something stupid like 6-1 or 6-1 I can just feel it.

I get back to my desk and get on with work. Some copies need doing, and the photocopier is about 5 miles of corridor away, so I keep myself busy. As the machine humms and whirrs I think that I might as well just have a quick look at the Aussie Open app – just to see how terrible things are, you know. OH OK, WHAT??? Murray is 3-0 up! The copier grinds to a halt and I do a strange little half-run with all the copies back to my secret little meeting room.

5-2 Murray in the 5th set, unbelievable – but don’t count your chickens, I tell myself. This is Roger Federer. Then I try to stop thinking that – what if Andy thinks that? He could still flop from here, oh my goodness me this is torture!

The door opens, it’s the boss and a co-worker. They’re in here for a meeting of some kind. I blush and tell him that I had to really focus on something for a while and needed a quiet room, he looks impressed at my dedication and ability to prioritise. I’m smirking as I scuttle out.

With Federer serveing for survival, 15-30 becomes 15-40. 2 match points! Come on just hit a great return, hell even a drop-shot I don’t mind, just make sure you… 30-40! Argh don’t you dare let it go again Andy Murray!

Nothing happens for what seems like over a minute. Then the screen flickers and the 30-40 disappears. There’s a small yellow tick next to “A.Murray (GBR) [3]”. That’s it! He’s done it, Andy Murray has beaten Roger Federer in the Australian Open semi-final!

I rush to the toilet, close the door and let out a yell, a primal roar.

“Aaaaaaaah come on you beauty! Yes!” One of the cubicles opens and the big boss comes out.

“Are you alright Tom?” he asks me. I gulp and nod. “I thought he was going to lose the fifth 6-1 or something”

“You’ve been following the match?” I ask in amazement

“I’ve been in there since just before the tiebreak in the fourth Tom. Recorded it so I can watch it later” he explains. What a funny old world!

Topics: Andy Murray, Australian Open, Roger Federer, Sports, Tennis, Tennis News