Tennis: Murray Ushers in a New Era

Man of the people supplants slightly aloof royal. The revolutionary undertones are what make Andy Murray's toppling of Tim Henman in Basel last week more exciting than if it were a mere changing of the guard. One of the disappointments of the Henman era has been that it has failed to inspire a generation in the way that Bjorn Borg's feats motivated young Swedes in the 1970s and '80s. With Murray it may just be different, if only because he looks like someone who has wandered into the game off a public court.

Murray is in fact one of the few who did take up tennis seriously because of Henman, which is why the two have become friends and Murray is quick to denounce anyone who denigrates our best player of recent times, particularly so after his three-set win on Wednesday. Friendship apart, though, little else binds the Scottish teenager, who has risen from 411 to 70 in the world rankings this year, and the 31-year-old Englishman, who may now be declining towards retirement.

If the clean-cut Henman has sometimes come across as a bit too posh to push as hard as he might to win Wimbledon, the rough-edged Murray, with grand-slam ambitions that are becoming rapidly more realistic, has exhibited the sort of raw combativeness and slightly bolshie demeanour on court that if replicated in the high street might land him with an Asbo.

Certainly, the Swiss were muttering before September's Davis Cup tie in Geneva that Murray, with his aggressive facial contortions, had an attitude problem. As it turned out, Murray, who has matured before our eyes over the past few weeks, behaved impeccably, including losing twice and telling the world number one Roger Federer it had been an honour to be on the same court as him in the doubles.

The 18-year-old from Dunblane says there will be further improvement in his behaviour as he progresses as a player. Because he is a perfectionist, whose outbursts, he says, are eruptions of frustration at his own failures rather than tirades against opponents: 'The better I get at tennis the better my temper will be.'

But however toned-down his behaviour becomes, Murray has a natural aggression that Henman has sought in vain. Tellingly, his favourite sport is boxing, which he says he has been addicted to since he started watching professional fights four years ago. He particularly admires Bradford's Olympic silver-medal winner Amir Khan. If he can't get his fix of boxing, he will, he says, look elsewhere. 'I go on the internet and watch everything I can, even other martial arts - K-1, everything.'

In so many ways, Murray is less buttoned-up than Henman. Whereas Henman would almost certainly regard a crack at his mother's expense as a breach of the primly maintained omerta with which he guards those closest to him, Murray affirms the strength of his affection for his mother, who has been the force behind his tennis career, by having the odd dig.

When we met recently, with his mother in attendance, Murray said she was annoying company in the car, where she sang too much, which was the main reason he wanted to learn to drive and get his own car. Asked if she approved of his haircut - she is known not to like the shaggy look - he said: 'Naah, my hair's definitely better than hers.'

He was critical, too, of his mother's 'pretty bad choice of clothes, which she buys for me but I never wear'. (He is comfortable only in casual wear, revealing that his one suit is a Davis Cup hand-out. He gave an emphatic 'Nope' when asked if he intended investing in another.)

As he delivered each of his mildly defamatory remarks about his mother, he swung round to look at her, checking that he had not overstepped the mark. Her smile told him he was OK.

The clean-cut/rough-edged demarcation applies also to their tennis. Henman, with his stay-in-place hair, neat outfits and textbook strokes, has always been something of a mannequin player. Murray is a little less predictable, a little less finished. His strengths are his gathering power and the acuity of his tennis brain, which is why he is starting to draw comparisons with one of the shrewdest practitioners in the Open era, John McEnroe.

We must now wait until next year for a clearer picture of where these attributes may take him. His progress in Basel to the quarter-finals, where he was overpowered on Friday by Chile's Fernando Gonzalez, meant he had to forego trying to qualify for this week's Paris Masters. He will now take off the next two to prepare for the Australian Open in January.

In 2006, British tennis badly needs Murray to fulfil further his immense promise.