Andy Murray switched from adidas to Under Armour late last year, but until recently was still wearing adidas Barricade shoes. Andy now wears Under Armour from head-to-toe as he debuted a new UA shoe at Queen’s Club last week.
Here’s the kit he will be wearing at Wimbledon:
Winner of a record-tying fourth Queen’s Club title on Sunday, Murray said he feels he plays better than in 2013 when he won the Wimbledon title. Do you think he will win this year?
Who will win Wimbledon 2015?
- Roger Federer (36%, 59 Votes)
- Novak Djokovic (31%, 51 Votes)
- Andy Murray (18%, 29 Votes)
- Stan Wawrinka (6%, 10 Votes)
- Rafael Nadal (6%, 9 Votes)
- Kei Nishikori (1%, 2 Votes)
- Milos Raonic (1%, 1 Votes)
- Tomas Berdych (1%, 1 Votes)
- Other (1%, 1 Votes)
- David Ferrer (0%, 0 Votes)
- Marin Cilic (0%, 0 Votes)
Total Voters: 163
Andy Murray, who has won the title at The Queen’s Club in 2009, 2011, 2013 and now 2015, defeated South African Kevin Anderson 6-3, 6-4 in one hour and four minutes. He joins John McEnroe, Lleyton Hewitt, Boris Becker and Andy Roddick in the elite group of four time Queen’s champion.
The last player to win both Queen’s and Wimbledon the same year was … Andy Murray two years ago. Will he do it again this year?
A really good week nonetheless for Kevin Anderson who beat Hewitt, recent Roland Garros champion Wawrinka, Garcia Lopez and Simon to reach the final:
This is a guest post by Soha Yamin, who operates Travels with Soha, that offers luxury tennis excursions.
The U.S. Open is one of the world’s most exciting sporting events. Both casual tennis fans and true devotees of the sport can enjoy attending this annual event. Although tennis championships have been held in the U.S. since 1881, the U.S. Open began in its modern form in 1968, when the tournament was held at the West Side Tennis Club in Forest Hills, New York. In 1978, the event was moved to the National Tennis Center in Flushing, New York, which has since been renamed Billie Jean King National Tennis Center.
If you are flying into New York to see the U.S. Open, both JFK and LaGuardia airports are quite close to Flushing Meadow Park, where the tournament takes place. While you’re in town, there is plenty to see and explore aside from the tennis matches. Let’s look at some of the possibilities.
Flushing Meadow Park
As long as you’re going to be at the park to watch the games, you may as well explore some of the park’s many other attractions. Prior to becoming the home of the U.S. Open, Flushing Meadow Park was best known for being the location of the 1939 and 1964-1965 World’s Fairs. The famous Unisphere globe sculpture, which was built in honor of the more recent fair, is still standing. The park also contains other well-known sculptures, such as Freedom of the Human Spirit and Free Form. Other attractions at Flushing Meadow Park include the Queens Theatre in the Park, where a variety of performances can be seen, and the Flushing Meadows Carousel.
Queens Museum of Art
Also on the grounds of Flushing Meadow Park is one of New York’s most interesting museums. The Queens Museum of Art is most famous for The Panorama, an impressively detailed diorama of New York City. The Panorama was built in 1964 for the World’s Fair, but has been refurbished several times. The museum also has many World’s Fair related exhibits, as well as a variety of art from all over the world.
The New Chinatown
While New York’s best known Chinatown is in downtown Manhattan, the Chinatown in Flushing is actually larger. This neighborhood now has one of the world’s largest Asian populations outside of China. Here you can find a wide selection of shops and restaurants. In addition to eating a delicious Asian meal, you can find traditional Chinese herbs and exotic souvenirs.
Astoria is one of New York’s trendiest neighborhoods, and is located in the borough of Queens, not very far from Flushing and the U.S. Open. Astoria is fun to explore on foot or in a car, with its many Greek and other ethnic restaurants. It’s also the home of Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden, where you can relax on a hot summer day with a pitcher of beer. There is often live folk music as well.
A Short Trip to Manhattan
The U.S. Open is held in Flushing, Queens, but you are not very far from Manhattan and its incomparable attractions. These include Times Square, Central Park, the Empire State Building and shopping on Fifth Avenue, to name just a few. The #7 subway train goes directly from Flushing to Manhattan. You can drive or take a taxi and get to Manhattan in about 30 minutes.
The U.S. Open is Close to Many Attractions
Visitors to the U.S. Open can find lots to do and see after watching a few exciting matches. Whether you explore nearby neighborhoods such as Flushing and Astoria, or venture into Manhattan, you are never far from everything that New York City has to offer.
From Love Thirty, three decades of champions – published in 1990
Becker, like Edberg has been around for a long time but is still young. It was not until 1989 that each emerged as a player obviously capable of winning major championships on any surface: to be explicit, on the extremes of grass and clay. In 1989 either could have become the first serve-and-volley specialist to win the French title for more than 20 years. Neither will be content with what he has already achieved, impressive though that is. Their form during the next few years will depend partly on fitness (each has had problems, largely arising from the physical stress the ‘big’ game imposes) and partly on their hunger for success. Ambition is not a constant condition of the human spirit. The flow of even the strongest river is subject to variations of rainfall on the watershed.
So far, Becker’s record has been the more spectacular and has also had wider repercussions? Like Bjorn Borg in Sweden and Guillermo Vilas in Argentina, he became a national hero whose example fired his compatriots and caused an enomous expansion in tennis interest: among players, public, court and equipment manufacturers, sponsors, and a variety of entrepreneurs.
Becker’s triumphs, swiftly followed by those of Steffi Graf, were almost as exciting for television viewers in East Germany, where tennis has been an undeveloped minor sport. Given Becker, Graf and the game’s restoration to Olympic status in 1988, we may assume that what is at present East Germany will be a productive area of growth for tennis in the 1990s.
Becker’s influence has also been considerable – and benefical – in a more senitive area. Germany needed a heroic figure commanding world-wide respect and he took on that role as if born to it. His first Wimbledon championship came 40 years after the end of the Second World War and 45 years after a German bomb had fallen on to a corner of the competitors’ centre court seating area. There was a spice of irony in the fact that Becker’s tennis on that same court dominated television, radio, and newspapers and magazines in his homeland. For most of us the War was only an older genreation’s vague, receding memory, a faint shadow in the mind. But to the German-speaking peoples it remainded a slightly touchy subject. Young though he was, Becker was aware of that: and aware, too that the new Germany needed a paragon? He responded as if all his 17 years had been spent in the diplomatic service. On court, he was an immensely Teutonic sportsman: fair-haired and blue-eyed, big and strong and a fighter to the core. Off court, he was all charm and tact and low-keyed common sense, recognizing the ‘Blond Bomber’ and ‘Blitzkrieg’ headlines as no more than facile metaphors. In short, Becker made Wimbledon history and at the same time did an impressive public relations job for Germany.
Becker’s home is a little more than six miles from Graf’s. They have known each other since childhood, when they often used to hit together and, later, played in the same tournaments. By the age of 12 he was an unusually promising footballer but gave up that game in favor of tennis. At 15 he was West Germany’s junior champion and, in the first round of the boys singles at Wimbledon, was beaten by Edberg – the top seed, who was almost two years older. At 16 Becker left school to play full-time. His potential had been recognized by the national federation’s coach, Gunther Bosch.
Since their childhood at Brasov, which lies at the foot of the transylvanian Alps, Bosch had been associated with Ion Tiriac, an uncommonly smat man with an intimidating presence. Tiriac played Davis Cup tennis for Romania from 1959 to 1977, by which time he knew everybody an all the angles. As coach, then as manager and entrepreneur, he was – and remains – a cute businessman. Tiriac went to Leimen, guaranted Becker’s parents a fat income, and took charge of the lad’s career. Bosch became Becker’s personal coach.
Thus was Becker under new management, so to speak, from 1984 onwards. In April of that year he qualified for Luxembourg’s first grand prix tournament, which was additionally memorable for the fact that there was a dog show in progress and players shared a hotel with thoroughbreds – sometimes audibly restive during the night. On court, Becker’s ferocious hitting raised images of Ivan Lendl. He had two match points against Gene Mayer. Becker qualified for Wimbledon, too, but tore some ankle ligaments when hotly engaged with Bill Scanlon and was carried away on a stretcher. By the end of that year he was already 6ft 2in tall and weighed 12st 8lb (he has since put on about half an inch and half as stone). Just the build, in fact, to take on Wimbledon and the world. Tiriac and Bosch were doing what they could to improve his quickness and agility.
Just before the 1985 Wimbledon, Becker won the Stella Artois tournament at Queen’s Club, suggesting that he could be a future Wimbledon champion. The future was now. Becker beat Hank Pfister in Wimbledon’s first round and observed that he was looking forward to ‘not being a nobody’. Joakim Nystrom and Tim Mayotte in turn took him to five sets and almost beat him. Then Becker got lucky. He did not have to play any of the top three seeds, because Kevin Curen tore through John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors in straight sets and Henri Leconte‘s fireworks display reduced Ivan Lendl to dazzled helplessness. By the time the final came round, Curren, who had already done enough to win most Wimbledons, did not have quite enough left. By contrast Becker was still strong, still dreaming the dreams of the young. He was having the time of his life and let us know about it: by joyously punching the air with his fists and giving his celebrated impression of a man cycling down a cobbled street without a bicycle. He was not only the first German champion, the youngest champion, and the first unseeded champion: he was also four months younger than the winner of the boys’ singles, Leonardo Lavalle. Moreover, Becker did it again in 1986, this time with more ease. His last two victims were Leconte and Lendl. Again, neither McEnroe nor Connors crossed his path.
Becker has often said that, as a tennis player, he was born at Wimbledon, that he feels at home there. The tournament changed his life and made him a celebrated millionaire. True, he had to shoulder a championship’s increased responsabilities to the game and did not always welcome the attention he attracted, the erosion of his privacy. ‘But it’s worth paying the price’, he admitted. It has often been suggested that Wimbledon is the easiest Grand Slam tournament for a man to win, because grass permits violently short rallies that make only limited demands on a player’s experience and tactical versatility. On the other hand a Wimbledon championship is the most coveted prize in the game and carries enormous prestige. It follows that, to some extent, Becker achieved too much too soon. He was like a man standing on the top of the Everest and realizing that he had yet to learn the craft of mountaineering.
Becker learned but it took him three years to win another Grand Slam title. Let us remember that, although twice Wimbledon champion, he was only 18 years old – still growing up in the midst of sudden fame and fortune.
In January of 1987, during the Australian championships, Becker’s natural need for more independance – moe time to go his own way, enjoy the company of his girlfriend, and find out what it was like to live an approximation of a normal life – led to a split with Bosch, who was unwilling to accept the part-time role Becker now demanded of him. But Tiriac was always there and Becker could easily pick him out, beneath clouds of cigarette smoke. And by the end of 1987 Franck Dick, a British athletics coach, was making Becker a better all-round athlete and Bob Brett, an Australian coach from the Harry Hopman school, was beginning to make Becker a better tennis player. gradually, Becker came to terms with manhood – and with the kind of tennis played on surfaces far more prevalent than grass. The Davis Cup competition helped, because Becker knew that he was playing for a team, a nation, and simply had to produce the goods – whatever the surface. And he did produce the goods.
The 1988 Davis Cup triumph was followed by a year in which it all came together. On the slow clay of Paris, Becker was narrowly frustrated but proved that he was ready to pass that most difficult of all tests for any player from the serve-and-volley school. And the Becker who regained the Wimbledon championship was a far more mature player than the the Becker of 1985 and 1986. He made a little more history too. In the first set of the final Edberg was taken by storm and scored only 10 points. It was the first 6-0 set in a men’s singles final for 40 years. Moreover, Steffi Graf won the women’s title the same day. Never before had Germands won both singles championships at Wimbledon – and Becker and Graf were to repeat the feat in the United States championships two months later, though Becker had saved two match points (one with the fortuitous intervention of a net cord) in a second round match with Derrick Rostagno.
It was the first time a German had won the US men’s title. Becker is unning out of firsts but will keep coming back for more: especially if his knees and ankles and the soles of his feet are spared an excess of the pounding they get on courts that are both hot and hard.
Becker is a commanding figure and an awfully powerful player. There is a hint of arrogance in the chin-up, icy glare he gives his opponents in the moments between rallies. Off the same toss, he can win any of three sevices: flat, kick, or slice. His forehand is equally fearsome. Becker flings his racket at the ball as if he never expects to see either again. Often, no volley is needed. A similar blazing speed can be evident when he puts top-spin on his backhand, which he usually hits with underspin. His volleys, whether punched or caressed, are like the cursory last spadefuls of soil on the graves of rallies. The pattern of his assault is varied, but the persistent strength of becker’s hitting keeps his opponents under terrible stress. On top of all that there is the bounding athleticism: the huge leaps for overheads, the spectacular falls as he hurls himself into wide volleys, and the quick ease (remarkable in such a big man) with which he moves in behind his service or an early-ball approach shot. And his unquenchable fighting spirit permeates the court like some electric curent.
At the age of 22 Becker began 1990 as the best player in the world.
World number 3 Stanislas Wawrinka, beaten by Dimitrov in the semifinal: