EXCLUSIVE: Will we ever learn to love Andy Murray anyway?

Men's semi-final day at Wimbledon and not a shred of 'Andymonium' remains. Are we missing him already? Not the Andy Murray who showed only meekness in the face of Balearic ballistics from Rafa Nadal, demonstrating a gulf in class as yet untraversable.

But perhaps the other version, the one who roared and clenched fists in a ferocious five-set comeback against Richard Gasquet in the previous round. That was pure Gladiator with Scottish subtitles.

Angry young man:Andy Murray gets emotional during his match with Rafael Nadal.

How we loved him. Or - hang on a minute - despised him. Even in that moment of triumph, the Centre Court whipped to a frenzy of support, there were loud voices raised in objection bordering on revulsion. Newsprint and airwaves have crackled ever since with passionately opposed opinion.

He is either a fresh gust of Scottish air, a winner unashamed to flash his feelings (or a biceps). Or he is a slouchy, surly, anti-English ingrate with ugly, aggressive habits and a mum who wore 'crumpled denim' in the hallowed setting of the world's most famous court. But the vehemence of the 'anti' brigade may be entirely misjudged.

The Andy Murray I came to know while working on his autobiography Hitting Back was an astonishing contrast to an image so bad that people would treat me with sympathy normally reserved for the bereaved when they heard of my latest assignment. In the event, I was greeted by a polite kiss, unfailing courtesy, a good deal of humour and (almost) punctuality.

This should not be seen as an apology for his character. You can see that hackles are raised by any athlete so overtly inclined towards immodest goads and celebrations.

It is deemed to lack class and graciousness. Rod Laver did not behave like that. On the other hand, Jimmy Connors did. Murray has been behaving with incontinent, competitive rage ever since overturning Monopoly boards as a child. Perhaps, among other things, he is still growing up.

But those who know him would scarcely accuse him of yobbery. Anyone less like a Neanderthal (apart from the werewolf imitation) is hard to imagine. He loathes smoking, hates partying, refuses to touch alcohol (after trying it once and throwing up outside a Barcelona nightclub) and has been settled with girlfriend Kim Sears for three years. He is positively puritanical. His brother Jamie thinks he is mad for not exploiting the possibility of nightclubs.

Unimpressed: Andy Murray on his way out of Wimbledon

Murray is no more in danger of an Asbo than Prince William. Come to think of it, given our heir to the throne's predilection for cocktails, less so. If this is the problem family on the Wimbledon estate, compared to the saintly Henmans, then someone had better explain how his Gran can be the pillar of the golf club in hometown Dunblane while his grandfather, the boys' stern disciplinarian when they were younger, collects antique Post Office memorabilia.

As for Murray's relationship with Tim Henman, they are firm friends. Of the two, Henman is by far the racier, sometimes spotted in the old days smoking outside the locker-room and known to enjoy knocking back the wine. Murray's favourite drink is a Starbucks Frappuccino without the topping.

His on-court behaviour has often attracted criticism. "I do swear sometimes towards my box," he admits. "If you're getting mad, you're getting pretty uncomfortable, and all I'm basically doing is looking for a bit of comfort from them. I know swearing isn't the right thing to do and I have tried to stop it. But I'm never going to be on court not saying a word. Sometimes you need to let off steam."

Off court, the steam completely evaporates. He is laid back to the point of supine. It is no coincidence that in the event of a fire, the first thing he would rescue from his flat is his beloved sofa. He plays on his PlayStation, argues (about anything) with his fitness trainer and court jester, Matt Little, and happily goes shopping with Kim. She buys the fruit and vegetables, he loads up the trolley with Milky Way cake bars.

"To the point where the lady at the checkout says: 'Do you think these are on special offer or something?' and I have to say: 'No, he just likes them a lot'," explained Kim.

Far from being a trophy WAG, Kim, 20, is studying English literature at Sussex University. The day before the Nadal match, she was washing Andy's tennis gear from the French Open which she had found festering in a long-forgotten bag.

Tender side: Andy Murray with girlfriend Kim Sears

It is her dog, by the way, not Andy's; an early 21st birthday present from her parents. Andy did not name the border terrier either. When told she had been christened Maggie May, his immediate response was: "What a stupid name."

The Andy Murray we have seen on court this week is the competitive beast, until he was roughed up by Nadal. It is one side of his nature, without doubt. You could argue his self-belief shades into arrogance but there is no trace of it when he steps off the court. The first word his mother uses to describe him is "sensitive". He reduced her to tears one Christmas by giving her a card that listed his thanks for all she had done for him.

He is undoubtedly stubborn and, like PG Wodehouse's famous Scotsman with a grievance, he could not always be mistaken for a ray of sunshine.

Incidentally, he is not anti- English, although he would admit to being pro-Scottish. His grandmother is English and his penthouse flat in Wandsworth is very much on English soil.

Determined to prove the critics wrong: Andy Murray

He feels things keenly and is frequently contrite about his mistakes. "Obviously there's some criticism you laugh at because it doesn't make sense and people don't know what they're talking about. But there are times when you just want to prove someone wrong."

The need to prove people wrong - those who said he was weak, a hypochondriac, too prone to cramping - motivates him. That might partially explain his "bulging biceps" celebration.

It looked a little gauche to British eyes, but Murray has been, until fairly recently, a teenager with teenage moods and awkwardness that comes with the territory.

His grandfather, the quiet member of the family, has an unshakeable opinion of his two grandsons. "They're very nice young men," he said simply and it is not beyond the realms of possibility that, in time, a growing band of onlookers will share that opinion.

In the meantime, Murray has learned from this Wimbledon experience that to make up the gulf in class between himself and the world's top three, he needs to be stronger, faster, fitter and utterly single-minded. He made no excuses for losing to Nadal. Simply, the better man won. Lack of self-awareness has never been his problem.

But he will never chase popularity. "Some people will watch me and go 'God, he's boring and has no personality'. Some people will think 'He's got a great personality and really wants to win'. People are going to have different opinions because they only see me on a tennis court. I'm pretty sure that if I'd become this moody git that I'm supposed to be, my friends wouldn't be my friends any more."