Please Don't Cry
Jenny Diski
Public crying has to pass some pretty stringent tests to get my approval. I don't think of myself as stoical, nor, certainly, would anyone who knows me; I moan and complain to a gold standard. But I have an aversion to crying in front of strangers, even familiars, and especially those waiting for me to do so - those boxes of tissues that shrinks have, and push forward as a spur to tearing up, for example, make a desert of me. I was once invited to cry in front of the whole school for my wrong doing, but chose to make my inner cheek bleed in preference.
I can sort of see the point of crying on achievement after enormous effort, and even feel the prick in my own eye. But mine was, apparently, the only dry eye in the country (both countries, Scotland and 'Britain') at the tearfulness displayed by Andy Murray on losing a Wimbledon final. Not achieving something after an enormous effort is wretched, of course, but it's a miserable response to take the emotional high ground because someone has done better than you. I've never liked Federer more (which isn't saying much) than watching him smile sympathetically at Murray's tears and then go on to say that he was very pleased he won and that he (Federer) had played very well to do so. We train children to cope with disappointment and not to cry when they lose, for their own sake, and because they'll get on with getting better, if that's possible.
'It's not the money, it's not the fame. It's history,' the BBC announced before the final. But it's only not the money and fame because both Federer and Murray have them both in quantity. Actually, it looks as if the next thing, when there's nothing left but records to break, isn't so much history, as a desire for public adoration.
I never did mind Murray being dour, or rather, reticent, as if his affect was any of my business, anyway. I hated the satisfaction of the commentators, all of them everywhere, who breathed great sighs of relief as the tears came and the voice choked. I've enjoyed the awkwardness of people having to support someone who appeared not to care whether he was liked or not. They on-screen crying jag was seeing someone who has known that a well is poisoned, but finally given up and drunk from it, because everyone else in the village does. Those whoops of satisfaction and banalities of 'Murray hasn't lost, he's won the hearts of the people' are the same kind of sentimental sadism that requires pointless public apologies rather than enforcing serious remedial action from bankers and politicians.
Comments
Records to break? Maybe for Federer, but Murray is barely in the record books, if at all. The 'next thing' for Murray is to win a Slam and thereby not only enter into history but also reach a level of personal satisfaction with his own achievements.
So why can't it be that the guy was upset at having lost? Christ, he's not out there playing for others; why does his crying suddenly transform his reticence and lack of concern for public opinion into a desire for public adoration? Your well analogy, beyond being absurd, makes the assumption that he was crying for having let the public down, when it seems clear to me, with his comments about his box and the positive benefits of public support, that most of all he wanted to win it for himself. Reacting to a loss doesn't mean he was compromising his integrity or acquiescing to the demands of others.
I didn't enjoy the sugar-coating response of the commentators any more than you did, but I'm not going to blame that on Murray. And the banker analogy? Talk about pandering for public adoration.
And what is this?: 'but it’s a miserable response to take the emotional high ground because someone has done better than you.' You can't mean Murray was taking the moral high ground by crying, can you? I must be misreading that.
I can feel some empathy with Murray, if only because he is not the smart, perfectly-groomed and drilled down to the last er .. backhand tennis-player that Federer has become. He's not perfect, and that makes him a figure that I can sympathise with.
I've nothing against men and women who cry in public. It was fine to watch Cadell Evans blinking back the tears at the end of the Tour de France last year. But then, he'd WON it at his nth time of trying over 3,000km of racing and Lord knows how many mountain climbs. After all, what will Murray do when he does win Wimbledon - sing an aria?