Why the Home Counties set just don't get Andy Murray

Sarah Kennedy (left) and Andy Murray (right)

As I mentioned yesterday, I am getting tired of the Home Counties (Anglo-Saxon, in the main) set moaning about Andy Murray. This morning it all fell into sharp focus at 6.50am. Sarah Kennedy (and I know Kennedy is a Celt-ish name, before you mention it, but she was born in East Grinstead) said on her Radio Two show that she didn't warm to Andy Murray and felt he lacked "sympatico".

Well, there you have it.

Sarah Kennedy. As typical a personification of the Anglo-Saxon-ish Home Counties set that you could imagine. Versus Andy Murray. The possessor of some Celtic caber-tossing grit. No wonder she doesn't warm to him.

I have written this friendly email to Madam Kennedy:

Sarah

Well done and general SWs for your show. It's amazing how you keep going. ;-)

You said this morning that Andy Murray leaves you cold and that there is nothing "sympatico" about him for you.

And we are supposed to be surprised by this announcement, are we?

I am going to be unfair to you - but honest. I'll let you know the things I think of when I think of you:

Surrey. Home counties. Anglo-Saxon. Harvey Nichols. Laura Ashley prints. Fortnum and Masons for tea occasionally. Would drink: Gin and tonics (easy on the tonic). Prep schools. Hockey. Lacrosse. Bunty. Would eat: cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Things you would say: "cripes - blimey - crikey - More tea vicar?" You loved Tim Henman because he would come to your house like a well-loved son-in-law and there would be no fear of him farting, swearing or leaving marks on the antimacassars. But one problem: he couldn't win tennis tournaments (much) and can't commentate.

And what do I think of when I think of Andy Murray?

Quite the opposite.

Scotland the brave. Celtic. Axle grease. Sump oil. Grit. Grime. Swearing. Biceps. Would eat: large doorstop cheese and pickle sandwiches. Would drink: McEwans 80/- bitter. Would say: various swear words inappropiate for broadcast at 7am. And most of all: Winning!

You wouldn't invite Andy Murray to tea for fear of him swearing or farting or leaving marks on the antimacassars. But you would rinse out your best tooth mug and leave a mug of tea for him on the ledge outside the tradesman's entrance of your abode.

Is it any wonder you don't warm to him?

All the best

Paul Walter