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everybody else's concentration.
Murray is only breaking his own.'
    Lloyd also said that Jimmy Connors had gone over the top
about me, 'saying Murray was the greatest thing since sliced
bread. He should not have made a comment like that about a
kid who didn't try in the fifth set against Nalbandian. You
can't say he is going to win a grand slam. But because we're so
desperate, he already has a noose around his neck.'
    In some ways, they were right. I went away afterwards and
tried to grow up fast. I wanted to play at that level. Once
you get that sort of buzz from playing the biggest tennis tournament
in the world, you want to play that sort of tournament
consistently. You don't want to go back and play in Challenger
and Futures events, the lower-ranked tournaments, where
there's no one watching, no atmosphere and not that much fun.
    You don't get Sean Connery phoning you after playing some
lowly event in South America. I didn't know he was in the
royal box that Saturday, but I saw it in the papers the next day.
Then he called me. I might have thought it was a wind-up but
my management company at the time had told me he'd asked
for my phone number – and anyway, I recognised his voice. It
was just like talking to James Bond.
    I didn't do much of the talking. I just listened to that voice I
knew so well from all the Bond films I used to watch. Every
Christmas there was a two-for-one offer and I had built up the
entire set. Now, suddenly, after three matches at Wimbledon,
I'm having a conversation with 007 himself.
    I was getting phone calls from James Bond and being
followed by the so-called paparazzi. I had gone from being an
absolute nobody to finding myself in the papers every day.
However, I didn't confuse myself with a national hero. I just
felt as if something had changed. I can tell you the exact
moment that that began to sink in. It was when I walked out
of our Wimbledon house with friends to have a day's go-karting
the day after the Nalbandian match. There was a line
of white vans with blacked-out windows outside in the street.
As our car pulled out, so did they and they followed us all the
way to the track. It was like being in a spy movie.
    At the beginning of that year I had been really struggling. I'd
lost a lot of matches at senior tournaments. I didn't know if I
was going to make it. I didn't know if I was good enough. That
Wimbledon was where it all clicked. It was like a light bulb
going on. I'd started playing tennis when I was three years old,
and I'd made a lot of sacrifices over the years. I'd gone to
Spain, left my family, and it had been a long, long road – but
now I'd just played five sets in the third round of Wimbledon.
I'd lost but it was close. I didn't feel I had made it yet, but that
tournament was like a payback to me for all the hard times.
    Now I had to start working even harder. I had to start
spending more time in the gym, being more professional. I was
eighteen and still physically under-developed. I was still
growing and hadn't put on much muscle. Basically, I just
needed to grow up and after that Wimbledon I did.

Chapter Two:
But I'm Not Sorry
    People think that I'm stroppy, that my mum's pushy and that
my big brother fancied his mixed doubles partner at
Wimbledon 2007. It just goes to show how appearances can be
deceptive, although I'm not so sure about Jamie and Jelena
Jankovic. But that's his story. My story is that I am not stroppy
at all. I can't remember the last time I had an argument with
my mum. I genuinely can't remember. I never slammed a door,
never shouted 'I hate you.' I never did either of those things to
my parents. I think Mum is the one person who gets me. She
understands me really well. I can't count the number of times
I've been called a bad-tempered brat, but that is not how it felt
growing up. I would say it was relaxed, easy-going, full of
sport and loads of fun.
    Obviously I can't remember the very early years too clearly.
I can vaguely recollect playing