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How Andy Murray and co banished the ghosts of British sporting failure How Andy Murray and co banished the ghosts of British sporting failure
(about 1 hour later)
Perhaps it will prove a passing summer fancy, as fleeting as the sunshine. But the sight of a Briton lifting the Wimbledon trophy, a novelty to almost anyone under the age of 80, along with a string of other recent sporting successes, prompts an unlikely question: after years of self-doubt, self-mockery and what sometimes felt like outright self-harm, have the British at last become a nation of winners? Perhaps it will prove a passing summer fancy, as fleeting as the sunshine. But the sight of a Briton lifting the Wimbledon men's singles trophy, a novelty to almost anyone under the age of 80, along with a string of other recent sporting successes, prompts an unlikely question: after years of self-doubt, self-mockery and what sometimes felt like outright self-harm, have the British at last become a nation of winners?
It's an unlikely question because, for decades, losing seemed to have become part of our collective DNA. Sometimes defeat came by a whisker, just as victory had appeared nail-chewingly close – think Tim Henman or the biennial ritual of the England football team, felled in a quarter-final penalty shootout. Sometimes it came in the joyous exuberance of the no-hoper – take a bow, Eddie "the Eagle" Edwards. But no matter how it was dressed, defeat followed us around.It's an unlikely question because, for decades, losing seemed to have become part of our collective DNA. Sometimes defeat came by a whisker, just as victory had appeared nail-chewingly close – think Tim Henman or the biennial ritual of the England football team, felled in a quarter-final penalty shootout. Sometimes it came in the joyous exuberance of the no-hoper – take a bow, Eddie "the Eagle" Edwards. But no matter how it was dressed, defeat followed us around.
Now, though, the curse seems to have lifted. Murray won Wimbledon and, last year, the US Open. That rounded off a summer in which Britain won a disproportionately large sack of medals from the London Olympics, a fortnight hailed around the world as an organisational, as well as sporting, triumph. Last month, Justin Rose became the first English golfer since 1970 to win the US Open. And Murray's weekend began with a series victory for the British and Irish Lions in Australia, the first for 16 years.Now, though, the curse seems to have lifted. Murray won Wimbledon and, last year, the US Open. That rounded off a summer in which Britain won a disproportionately large sack of medals from the London Olympics, a fortnight hailed around the world as an organisational, as well as sporting, triumph. Last month, Justin Rose became the first English golfer since 1970 to win the US Open. And Murray's weekend began with a series victory for the British and Irish Lions in Australia, the first for 16 years.
Now of course sport turns on the tiniest margins. A mistimed play could have made losers of Rose and Murray and lambs of the Lions. And if England's cricketers confound the bookies and lose the Ashes this summer, we'll be back to the usual script. But the difference is, failure no longer feels fated, defeat no longer the default. And that might have an explanation – and an impact on the way Britain sees itself – that goes far beyond sport.Now of course sport turns on the tiniest margins. A mistimed play could have made losers of Rose and Murray and lambs of the Lions. And if England's cricketers confound the bookies and lose the Ashes this summer, we'll be back to the usual script. But the difference is, failure no longer feels fated, defeat no longer the default. And that might have an explanation – and an impact on the way Britain sees itself – that goes far beyond sport.
Start with the how. There are technocratic answers aplenty, chief among them the new professionalism and investment that followed abject British failure at the 1996 Olympics, when Team GB won only a single gold medal. The exemplar is British cycling, now run with a discipline and will to win admired around the world – and which produces victors from Bradley Wiggins, Chris Hoy and Victoria Pendleton to the current wearer of the Tour de France yellow jersey, Chris Froome.Start with the how. There are technocratic answers aplenty, chief among them the new professionalism and investment that followed abject British failure at the 1996 Olympics, when Team GB won only a single gold medal. The exemplar is British cycling, now run with a discipline and will to win admired around the world – and which produces victors from Bradley Wiggins, Chris Hoy and Victoria Pendleton to the current wearer of the Tour de France yellow jersey, Chris Froome.
Cynics will say British sporting triumphs are a misnomer because success frequently came in spite of Britain, not because of it: Murray escaped these shores and the mediocre Lawn Tennis Association, learning his craft in Barcelona instead. More cynical still are those who insist many of these winners are, in the Daily Mail's phrase, "plastic Brits" who could have competed under other flags. The tennis rising star Laura Robson was born in Melbourne and Froome in Kenya. So many England cricketers were born in South Africa – Kevin Pietersen, Jonathan Trott, Matt Prior and former captain Andrew Strauss – the joke used to run: "Where do England stay when they tour South Africa? With their parents."Cynics will say British sporting triumphs are a misnomer because success frequently came in spite of Britain, not because of it: Murray escaped these shores and the mediocre Lawn Tennis Association, learning his craft in Barcelona instead. More cynical still are those who insist many of these winners are, in the Daily Mail's phrase, "plastic Brits" who could have competed under other flags. The tennis rising star Laura Robson was born in Melbourne and Froome in Kenya. So many England cricketers were born in South Africa – Kevin Pietersen, Jonathan Trott, Matt Prior and former captain Andrew Strauss – the joke used to run: "Where do England stay when they tour South Africa? With their parents."
But that may be just a negative way of telling a positive story. Immigration has played a part in this transformation of fortunes. It's done it directly, broadening the talent pool so that Somali-born Mo Farah could win double gold for Team GB. But it may also work more subtly. The US has long believed itself to be both a nation of winners and a nation of immigrants and these two narratives are linked. After all, the self-esteem of a nation is surely boosted when so many of its people actively chose to be there. Over the past few decades, Britain has become such a place.But that may be just a negative way of telling a positive story. Immigration has played a part in this transformation of fortunes. It's done it directly, broadening the talent pool so that Somali-born Mo Farah could win double gold for Team GB. But it may also work more subtly. The US has long believed itself to be both a nation of winners and a nation of immigrants and these two narratives are linked. After all, the self-esteem of a nation is surely boosted when so many of its people actively chose to be there. Over the past few decades, Britain has become such a place.
British Future's Sunder Katwala, a sports obsessive concerned with issues of national identity, reckons the Thatcher era changed things too. "This is uncomfortable for the liberal left," he says, but the 1980s emphasis on individualism, with "its message that 'you can be a winner' and with less sympathy for losers" was, he suspects, also conducive to greater sporting success.British Future's Sunder Katwala, a sports obsessive concerned with issues of national identity, reckons the Thatcher era changed things too. "This is uncomfortable for the liberal left," he says, but the 1980s emphasis on individualism, with "its message that 'you can be a winner' and with less sympathy for losers" was, he suspects, also conducive to greater sporting success.
At the very least, Thatcher sought rhetorically to reverse the myth of decline that had haunted postwar Britain, a myth that both contaminated national sport and was fed by it, growing larger with each new failure. For decades, each time our athletes lost, it was a reminder that we were not the great power we used to be: witness the shock felt when Hungary thrashed England 6-3 at Wembley in 1953, a humbling that anticipated the Suez disaster three years later.At the very least, Thatcher sought rhetorically to reverse the myth of decline that had haunted postwar Britain, a myth that both contaminated national sport and was fed by it, growing larger with each new failure. For decades, each time our athletes lost, it was a reminder that we were not the great power we used to be: witness the shock felt when Hungary thrashed England 6-3 at Wembley in 1953, a humbling that anticipated the Suez disaster three years later.
That myth seems to be fading now, the triumph of London 2012 perhaps a turning point. Part of it is generational. It's doubtful that even Andy Murray's grandparents were raised with the old imperial expectations of British supremacy and the subsequent disappointment when our sporting representatives failed to match that standard. It took us a long time to adjust to what seemed to be our diminished standing in the world, but now we might have moved beyond such "declinism" altogether. Tellingly, a YouGov survey found it was Ukip supporters – those voters who still perhaps believe Britain's best days are behind us – who had been most pessimistic about Murray's chances.That myth seems to be fading now, the triumph of London 2012 perhaps a turning point. Part of it is generational. It's doubtful that even Andy Murray's grandparents were raised with the old imperial expectations of British supremacy and the subsequent disappointment when our sporting representatives failed to match that standard. It took us a long time to adjust to what seemed to be our diminished standing in the world, but now we might have moved beyond such "declinism" altogether. Tellingly, a YouGov survey found it was Ukip supporters – those voters who still perhaps believe Britain's best days are behind us – who had been most pessimistic about Murray's chances.
When Murray was playing, it was this that was most striking. There were setbacks and reverses, of course, but he was not derailed by them. He did not seem to be on the brink of the old British near-miss or heroic failure. He believed he would win. And, most incredibly, those watching believed it with him.When Murray was playing, it was this that was most striking. There were setbacks and reverses, of course, but he was not derailed by them. He did not seem to be on the brink of the old British near-miss or heroic failure. He believed he would win. And, most incredibly, those watching believed it with him.
For a long time failure felt endemic in these islands. But now, we are discovering, success can be contagious too.For a long time failure felt endemic in these islands. But now, we are discovering, success can be contagious too.
• Editor's note: the second sentence of this article was amended to specify the men's singles trophy, at 10pm on 8 July