in
that group was nineteen.
I had to look after myself, be disciplined, hard-working and
get used to playing on clay in hot conditions. I learned so much
just being away from home. There's so much bitching that goes
on in British tennis, between parents and players and everyone.
It's ridiculous. I still have friends from that age group, and I
remember well what it was like. We laugh about it now, but it
wasn't fun to be around at the time. When you went to
tournaments, the parents were saying things about you, hoping
you would lose because you were one of the best players. There
was way, way too much jealousy. In Spain there was no
jealousy, just hard work.
That is a huge part of the reason I left home. I remember
leaving my house feeling a kind of pang of regret. I don't know
what caused it exactly. Whether it was going into the unknown
in a foreign culture or worrying that I might be homesick, I
don't know, but once I was in Spain, I didn't want to come
back.
That does not mean that all went smoothly for me. There
were twenty-nine courts at the Academy, clay for the elite, hard
for the average players and another type of hard court for the
beginners. I remembered my mum telling me to go over to the
clay courts, say who I was and start practising. So I walked
over and the coach had never heard of me.
'I don't know anything about you,' he said. 'Go and practise
on the hard courts.' So, OK, I went over to the hard courts and
the first person I found there was a guy called Danny Valverdu
from Venezuela and he was quite rude to me. I didn't know
anyone. I had lunch on my own, dinner on my own. It was
awkward.
Then, at dinner on the second day, Danny said: 'Come and
sit over here.' He's one of my best friends now. We played
doubles together for a while on the junior circuit and never lost
a match. We had to surrender the final of the Canadian Open
Juniors because I had to go and play the qualifying event for
the US Open, but we have never lost a match together on court.
Very soon Barcelona seemed perfect to me. I lived in the
dormitory above the school block and every night we would
play football on the artificial pitch, copy each other's homework
and have fun on the PlayStation. There were always
people around. I liked that. You could be immature and mess
around, and not get told off by your parents. I must have got
quite a few things out of my system at that age. Lights out was
midnight and there was a woman called Arantxa to make sure
we all went to bed in time. Of course, we didn't. We'd be
making a noise or annoying one another. Then you would hear
Arantxa open a door, march down the hall and we would all
have to pretend to be asleep. No one was really wicked,
though.
A couple of my friends did a few things like boxing with a
proper helmet and gloves. They were always trying to get me
to do it but I wouldn't. I didn't fancy it. One of them used to
get punched without a mouthguard and braces on his teeth. He
cut his mouth every single time. He was mad. He didn't make
it on the tour either.
At the weekend, practice was optional. Most of the time I
would train in the morning and then take the bus into the
city, to the shops, the Hard Rock Café, the English-speaking
cinema, the go kart track or the internet café. I loved it. I felt
free and independent and, although the days were
ridiculously long, the priorities were tennis first and school
second which was the right thing for me. I still needed to
study, but the most important thing to me was tennis. My
priorities had been the same in Scotland, I just wasn't allowed
to follow them.
The days were incredibly busy. I'd train on court from 9am
to noon, do fitness from noon to 1pm; lunch 1pm–2pm; school
2pm–4pm; tennis 4.30pm–6pm; school 6pm–8pm. I'd certainly
said goodbye to my younger self. I'd gone from training one
and a half hours a day on three or four days a week, to four
and a half hours a day of high intensity tennis in hot conditions
abroad.
Inevitably
that group was nineteen.
I had to look after myself, be disciplined, hard-working and
get used to playing on clay in hot conditions. I learned so much
just being away from home. There's so much bitching that goes
on in British tennis, between parents and players and everyone.
It's ridiculous. I still have friends from that age group, and I
remember well what it was like. We laugh about it now, but it
wasn't fun to be around at the time. When you went to
tournaments, the parents were saying things about you, hoping
you would lose because you were one of the best players. There
was way, way too much jealousy. In Spain there was no
jealousy, just hard work.
That is a huge part of the reason I left home. I remember
leaving my house feeling a kind of pang of regret. I don't know
what caused it exactly. Whether it was going into the unknown
in a foreign culture or worrying that I might be homesick, I
don't know, but once I was in Spain, I didn't want to come
back.
That does not mean that all went smoothly for me. There
were twenty-nine courts at the Academy, clay for the elite, hard
for the average players and another type of hard court for the
beginners. I remembered my mum telling me to go over to the
clay courts, say who I was and start practising. So I walked
over and the coach had never heard of me.
'I don't know anything about you,' he said. 'Go and practise
on the hard courts.' So, OK, I went over to the hard courts and
the first person I found there was a guy called Danny Valverdu
from Venezuela and he was quite rude to me. I didn't know
anyone. I had lunch on my own, dinner on my own. It was
awkward.
Then, at dinner on the second day, Danny said: 'Come and
sit over here.' He's one of my best friends now. We played
doubles together for a while on the junior circuit and never lost
a match. We had to surrender the final of the Canadian Open
Juniors because I had to go and play the qualifying event for
the US Open, but we have never lost a match together on court.
Very soon Barcelona seemed perfect to me. I lived in the
dormitory above the school block and every night we would
play football on the artificial pitch, copy each other's homework
and have fun on the PlayStation. There were always
people around. I liked that. You could be immature and mess
around, and not get told off by your parents. I must have got
quite a few things out of my system at that age. Lights out was
midnight and there was a woman called Arantxa to make sure
we all went to bed in time. Of course, we didn't. We'd be
making a noise or annoying one another. Then you would hear
Arantxa open a door, march down the hall and we would all
have to pretend to be asleep. No one was really wicked,
though.
A couple of my friends did a few things like boxing with a
proper helmet and gloves. They were always trying to get me
to do it but I wouldn't. I didn't fancy it. One of them used to
get punched without a mouthguard and braces on his teeth. He
cut his mouth every single time. He was mad. He didn't make
it on the tour either.
At the weekend, practice was optional. Most of the time I
would train in the morning and then take the bus into the
city, to the shops, the Hard Rock Café, the English-speaking
cinema, the go kart track or the internet café. I loved it. I felt
free and independent and, although the days were
ridiculously long, the priorities were tennis first and school
second which was the right thing for me. I still needed to
study, but the most important thing to me was tennis. My
priorities had been the same in Scotland, I just wasn't allowed
to follow them.
The days were incredibly busy. I'd train on court from 9am
to noon, do fitness from noon to 1pm; lunch 1pm–2pm; school
2pm–4pm; tennis 4.30pm–6pm; school 6pm–8pm. I'd certainly
said goodbye to my younger self. I'd gone from training one
and a half hours a day on three or four days a week, to four
and a half hours a day of high intensity tennis in hot conditions
abroad.
Inevitably
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