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time we were
walking, he was muttering: 'Come on, Andy. Come on, Andy.
You can do it!'
    The fourth set was really close. I had chances. He had
chances. You'd think I'd be nervous at 4–4 in the fourth,
against one of the best players in the world, but actually it was
great. I'd never played anywhere near that level of tennis
before. Then I had a break point on his serve. He hit a shot on
to the baseline. The line judge called it out, but the umpire
over-ruled him. I knew it was in – I saw chalk – but it was one
of those that you hope the umpire will leave alone. He didn't.
I lost the game. I lost the set. It wasn't a mental let-down. It
was just inexperience. Nalbandian knew that the most
important thing to do was stay solid and make few mistakes. I
was more impetuous. I was in too much of a rush to finish off
the point.
    He broke me early in the fifth set. To be honest, I can't
remember much about it any more. I was starting to hurt a lot
and I was cold. This was the last match on and it was getting
late. Whenever I stood up after the changeovers I was feeling
really stiff. My legs were hurting. It was the longest match I'd
ever played. My legs and my backside were really sore because
of the low bounce of the ball. All that bending. That was when
I understood what playing professional tennis at the highest
level was all about. I realised that I had the potential to play at
that level, but I was still a little kid.
    In the locker room afterwards I saw Mark, my coach. We'd
hardly worked together for any length of time yet. I didn't
really know him that well. Both of us were trying to be brave
and hold back the tears. It was really difficult. I apologised to
him for losing and he looked quite shocked. He said: 'You've
nothing to apologise for. It was a great effort.'
    I just sat there for about fifteen minutes by myself, trying to
take it all in. Actually, trying to get my legs working again.
When I went for my shower I could hardly stand up. My legs
buckled. I was absolutely exhausted, but somehow I gathered
myself. I went and did my press conference and that was –
nearly – the end of my first Wimbledon.
    I say 'nearly', because I had to come back on the Monday to
play in the mixed doubles with Shahar Peer of Israel. She must
have wished I hadn't. I was rubbish. We lost in the first round,
but there was a huge crowd round Court Three where we
played. They told me later that it was the first time in living
memory that an unseeded player losing in the first round of the
mixed doubles had been asked to hold a press conference. It
was quite a fun conversation. They asked me about all the
female attention I was getting. I just said: 'That's the best thing
about this. It's great.'
    I wasn't being strictly honest. The Nalbandian match hurt
for a few days but looking back on it now, it was the match
that made me understand what I needed to do to become one
of the best players in the world. It was maybe a good thing I
didn't win. I played really well all week and just lost to a better
player who knew how to pace himself. If I'd won in three or
four sets, I might not have realised I needed to be much fitter
and much stronger.
    There was a pretty funny mixture of responses to what I'd
done. Jimmy Connors, Boris Becker, John McEnroe and
Martina Navratilova said encouraging things, which was nice,
but there were quotes in the papers from some former British
Davis Cup captains that were pretty critical.
    David Lloyd said: 'For an 18-year-old kid to be getting tired
like that on grass is a big worry. Two weeks in a row, at
Queen's and Wimbledon, he got tired. The worst thing in
tennis is to have a weakness. Everybody else homes in on it
pretty quick.'
    Tony Pickard said my temper was a problem: 'Obviously,
nobody has been able to bounce it out of him. Now it will be
a hell of a problem to get rid of it. To be doing that shows that
when the going gets tough, somebody can't handle it. He isn't
John McEnroe. He used it to break