Did you watch Andy Murray’s losing effort in the Wimbledon final, and what happened afterwards when he spoke with the BBC’s Sue Barker? He cried- openly, unashamedly. And I and a lot of other people cried right along with him- and not just his fellow Brits who had to be sharing his sorrow and bitter disappointment. . . but people all around the world.
Crying happens for many different reasons, but especially when our feelings well up and burst beyond the capacity for mere words to express them. In those moments, it’s like the emotions have no other choice but to crack through our reserves and come gushing out as tears . . . whether tears of joy or sorrow. I think it’s always amazing to experience those moments ourselves or to see it happen to someone else. It’s one of the things that makes us human and sets us apart from the pandas and the porpoises. . . the amazing sensation of feeling deeply.
What I think was noteworthy about Andy Murray’s tears was that he didn’t begin to shed them as far as I could tell until he was standing in front of those Wimbledon fans, so many of which he knew had to be bitterly disappointed by his loss. Had his tears been mostly about the loss itself, he would have started blubbering from the moment the umpire had announced “game, set and match to Peter Sampras.” But no, he first cried as he stood in front of those fans and spoke to them. It was in that moment when his loss became their loss as well that the emotions came crashing through. And in his remarks, he saved his most emotionally tender words for the end: “Last of all, to you guys. . . “ (meaning the fans in the stands) “Everybody always talks about the pressure of playing at Wimbledon- how tough it is – but it’s not. The people watching, they make it so much easier to play. The support has been incredible, so thank you.” And that’s when Murray really dissolved into tears. I loved that moment the most of all.
Murray was referring to the fact that the British are so incredibly hungry to have a Brit win the Wimbledon men’s single title for the first time since Fred Perry way back in 1936. Over the years, various British players have seemed to dissolve under the weight of the crowds’ fervent hopes- and one of the clearest cases of that was Britain’s Virginia Wade, the 1968 U.S. Open singles champion, who at Wimbledon would manage to hold it together for a few matches before completely falling apart, usually in the quarters or semis of the event. She had the sheer talent to win Wimbledon but just couldn’t produce her best tennis there where it mattered the most to her. And then in 1977, in what still stands as one of the biggest miracles in the history of sports, she managed to win Wimbledon in its centennial year, with Queen Elizabeth II herself in the stands watching the final for the only time during her reign. How she could hold it together on that occasion, and in the semis where she upset Chris Evert, heaven only knows. But she did it. Nevertheless, her Wimbledon career is mostly a monument to how the pressure to succeed can actually be a player’s undoing and keep them from playing their best – and a lot has been made of the pressure heaped on the shoulders of Andy Murray to end the long drought on the men’s side. I LOVE how he turned that on its ear in his remarks by thanking the crowd for their support and for making it clear that he regards their hopes for his success at Wimbledon to be a help rather than a hindrance. And I think he’s right. Murray’s losses at Wimbledon have so much more to do with the brilliant superstars who happen to be playing the game right now; that’s what’s keeping him out of the winner’s circle, not the undo pressure from fans. And I am so glad that Murray took a moment to say so and to thank them. Those tears he shed were not so much about his pain – but about his gratitude.
Speaking of which: did you happen to watch “Good Morning America” the day that Robin Roberts announced that she had just been diagnosed with a very serious bone marrow disease called MDS – something which appears to be a direct consequence of her cancer treatment? She has always shown such class, and this difficult moment was no different; through her tears she spoke so glowingly about all for which she was grateful- especially the courage and generosity of her sister Sally-Ann, who is going to be her bone marrow donor. (And I just read that when Sally-Ann had her first long day of preparatory tests, Robin was right there the whole time, and in her words: “I could not stop crying. I’m so moved by her unrelenting willingness to do whatever it takes to help me.”) I had much the same reaction to the morning when Ann Curry – another amazing class act – announced that all of the rumors were true and that, in fact, she was stepping down as co-host of the Today Show. I am so glad that she didn’t slap on a fake smile to pretend that she was okay with what had happened. She was feeling way too much sadness to suppress it- nor could her costar Matt Lauer – and by the time it was over we had experienced an important moment of connection with her. And it was very clear that what she will really miss the most is working with the colleagues who have become so dear to her, and vice versa.
What do all of these moments have in common – and have to do with you and me? They are all reminders that it’s okay to cry- that we are revealing our humanity- and that often when we are moved to tears, it is not so much about our own private emotions welling up like a flood. It’s because we are feeling something that connects us to others, maybe in ways we didn’t even know were possible. The day of my mom’s funeral, I cried the hardest at her graveside during the committal service when I looked up at one point and realized for the first time that Delmar Patterson and his wife had made the ten-hour trip from Atlantic, Iowa to be there. At that moment, the tears flowed down my cheeks like they would never stop- springing from a mix of pain/loss and gratitude/love. We should always be grateful for those moments in life when the barriers come down and we realize in ground-shaking ways just how much we mean to one another, in ways we may never have stopped to calculate.
*Andy Murray’s tears brought to mind several other cases of tears on the tennis court. One of the most memorable, ironically enough, happened during the trophy ceremony at another Grand Slam tournament, the Australian Open, several years ago when Rafael Nadal defeated Roger Federer yet again after a series of similar victories. As Federer began talking to the audience he broke down – quite unexpectedly, because he had never been emotional in that way before – and they finally had him step away from the mic to give him a chance to gather his composure. I think Federerer actually gained some fans that day – and so did Nadal, the victor, who spoke so kindly about Federer and also reached out and put his arm around him. It was one of those simple yet extraordinary gestures of affection that no one who saw it will ever forget.
It was at the same tournament back in 1995 that tears were shed by Pete Sampras during a quarter- final match against fellow American Jim Courier. Sampras was experiencing terrible off-court sorrow at the time because his tennis coach, Tim Gullickson, had just been diagnosed with cancer. When Sampras began dissolving into tears right in the middle of this hard fought match, the announcers assumed that he was experiencing some sort of physical pain that was causing the tears. . . even though he was not limping or in any other way appearing to be hurt. Tears do get shed during award ceremonies but not so often while the match itself is being played, so I suppose I should be more understanding of those announcers- but I think they were mostly speaking from the outdated assumption that real men don’t cry. Oh yes they do.
The last case of tennis tears worth mentioning is the occasion after a Wimbledon ladies final in 1993 when Steffi Graf defeated Jana Novotna, who had crushed Graf in the second set and was leading in the third set before falling apart and losing. While receiving the runner-up trophy from the Duchess of Kent, Novotna began to cry – and in a tender gesture that still puts a lump in my throat, the Duchess took the sobbing Novotna into her arms and gave her a comforting embrace. And five years later, Novotna was back on Center Court, but this time receiving the winners‘ trophy from the same Duchess of Kent, which had to be an incredibly sweet moment for both of them.