“It’s surprisingly difficult to find places to play in London. Either the clubs aren’t keen on having performance players based there or, if they are keen, they don’t have adequate facilities. It was frustrating for me that the NTC closed, having been born 10 or 15 minutes around the corner. I’m not saying it won’t turn out to be the right decision, but it didn’t help me.”
Golding – who turned 21 in September – is one of five young men who all seemed to have a chance of becoming regular tour players, yet decided this year to step off the treadmill. Three of them are close contemporaries of his, in George Morgan, Ashley Hewitt and Jack Carpenter. And then there is 19-year-old Harry Meehan, a 6ft 5in left-hander with a bomb of a serve, who told the Telegraph in October that “I was beginning to struggle with my mental state.”
If there is a common thread, Golding suggests, it is the amount of expectation heaped onto players who are not ready for it.
“It’s an issue in UK that we don’t create enough tennis players,” he said. “Which means there is more pressure on the ones that do try to make it. People tend to write you off very early, and if things aren’t going well for six months it’s a disaster. Yes, we’ve got a gap in that area of players from 30 to 70 in the world, but those players don’t usually break through at 20, more likely at 24.
Promise: Oli Golding was ranked No. 327 in April (PAUL GROVER)
“In my case, my head wasn’t in it at the end, for the last couple of months. It was funny because I was playing some of my best tennis but at the same time I felt I was going through the motions. Taking a break was the best option, because nothing was going to happen while I felt like that. There are too many other people out there who are feeling fresh and enjoying it and when the score’s 5-5 in the third set, nine times out of ten they find a way to win.”
Golding – who reached a high point of No. 327 in the world in April – has spent the autumn and winter helping out with his mother’s tennis-coaching business while he decides what to do next. A career in business is a possibility, though he does not rule out returning to the tour in a year’s time if he feels he is missing it. (Which he hasn’t, particularly, as yet.)
If he does go back, Golding says that it would have to be on his own terms, rather than under the watchful eye of LTA coaches and sponsors. “When I was a kid I used to swing in quite a carefree way, but after I won the US Open juniors a lot of people wanted to have an input into the way I was playing. The result was that I got regulated and lost touch with the way I used to hit the ball.”
Yet while Golding might like the idea of trading as a lone wolf, how would he support himself? With the exception of Andy Murray and perhaps three or four others, British players have long relied on matrix funding (which used to be handed out on the basis of junior results) and the bonus scheme (which assisted senior players who reached the later stages of Futures events).
Now that the first safety net is being taken down, and the second cut back, Downey's critics argue that a professional tennis career will soon be out of reach for everyone but once-in-a-generation talents and those with wealthy backgrounds.
“It’s crazy,” says Golding. “The people who need funding are the ones at the lower levels. You just can’t make ends meet playing Futures $10,000s. I think a hell of a lot of people will give up.
“It’s a hell of a tough life. The rewards are very limited. I can understand that the LTA want to have targets but I think it’s tough enough as it is. When you look at the conditions at a Futures, it’s below the minimum wage. I entered one 128-player draw, qualified and won a round, and reached the semis of the doubles. I was there from Thursday to Thursday and after tax my pay packet was 88 Euros. Considering how much money there is at the top level, more should filter down.”
So what about the main criticism that Downey, implicitly, has been aiming at Golding, Morgan et al? That they just don’t want it enough? Heather Watson added her own voice a fortnight ago, when she told reporters that “A lot of British tennis boys I’ve grown up with think it’s a jolly, that you’re going to play some tennis, get all the girls, go out, but it doesn’t work like that.”
Golding disagrees. "People who say that wouldn’t have any idea how difficult it is. How much you have to put in and how little you get back. I was incredibly hungry, I used to get frustrated on the court because I wanted to win so much. I gave it absolutely everything for six or seven years of my life, travelling for 25 or 30 weeks a year. In the end I felt I didn’t have much in the tank, and that it wasn’t honest to take sponsorship from people in that state.
“What Downey’s been saying, it’s a bit of a generalisation, because everyone is different. When he and [performance director] Bob Brett came in they started saying stuff and taking decisions without talking to people.
“I felt about 18 months ago there was a good spirit and team atmosphere around British tennis. Everyone was pulling together really well but that was lost slightly. The NTC was quite busy for a while but then it did start to empty out even before the new regime arrived. I’m not sure why that was; the players didn’t get told very much. What I would say is that tennis is a very individual sport but the new LTA seem to be making their decisions on a group basis.”
If he can work out which path to follow, Golding should have a bright future. He is intelligent and articulate, as well as confident enough to have appeared as a child actor in major films and theatre productions, including Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on the West End stage. And then there is his acute analysis of the British tennis scene, which is so well-informed that Downey should think about giving him a different sort of role in the NTC's administrative offices.
“It is difficult for the LTA,” says Golding. “They are rich in terms of money but poor in terms of facilities, which isn’t the fault of Downey or Brett. Clubs in Europe are much more interested in generating players, more community-based. Here it’s all about money. They don’t want someone on court for free when they could be making £27 an hour.
“Around me, most of the courts are either artificial grass or macadam – two surfaces that are used for zero pro tournaments. They’re cheaper to install, survive the weather in this country, and are easier for the older generation to play on than clay. On artificial turf, you can’t rally for more than three or four shots if you’re putting any pace on the ball. People wonder why we struggle to create players in this country and that is a big part of the answer.”
