I can remember running round with Andy when we were little kids at the tennis courts in Dunblane. My mum was coaching somebody and we were at the back of the courts, chasing after tennis balls and probably getting hit by some as well. When we got bored with that we would go over to the park, kick a football and chase the ducks while one of the other mums looked after us. We were quite close in age so we did pretty much everything together and got on pretty well. We argued as all brothers do, but mostly it was all in good fun.
At home we'd make up games all the time and they were always competitive. Sponge ball football in the hallway was a favourite or indoor short tennis in the living room with all our trophies lined up as the net. We'd put the bigger ones at the end for the net post and the smaller ones in the middle. It was a bit silly but we loved it. I can't remember breaking any ornaments, but when we were five or six we once played basketball using a closed window as the hoop, so the first time we threw a shot we smashed the window. That was very, very stupid. My mum wasn't too pleased but my dad just sighed and said: 'We'd better get another window.'
As boys, we were similar in many ways but different too. Andy was quite fiery and stubborn; I was more easy-going. He didn't like being told what to do and he didn't always listen to what you had to say. He doesn't even now. He liked to figure things out for himself – he still does – and that can be a bit frustrating at times.
When we were kids, he'd often refuse to play what I wanted and we'd end up arguing. I guess we had disagreements over silly things. But we didn't fight. We maybe threw a punch or a kick, but we wouldn't be scrapping it out over ten rounds.
I am the elder brother, so I would tend to win at games the majority of the time. I usually beat him at tennis until we were about twelve and thirteen – then Andy improved a lot and started to beat me. He was so competitive, he wanted to win at everything, even Snap. I admit, I used to let him win sometimes. I liked winning, but not to the point he did. I wouldn't get mad if I was losing at Monopoly or Cluedo or whatever, but he did. So, anything for a quiet life, I thought. It was better to see him with a smile on his face than throwing a tantrum – it was just less hassle.
We shared a room until we were about ten. I was much tidier. I didn't like mess. Even if I was a bit untidy, it was controlled mess. My clothes would be folded up on the floor as opposed to Andy's dirty clothes in a heap. We had bunk beds and loads of posters all round. Mine were Manchester United, his were Liverpool. Then we became fans of WWF wrestling. I was a Hulk Hogan fan, and Andy loved The Rock. Of course, we tried the moves ourselves. We made a couple of belts out of cardboard and put duvets on the floor for a stage. But I only ever let him win the women's belts, if I was feeling generous.
We were always competing at something. Neither of us was happy just sitting around in the house playing computer games all day, although we had Game Boys and Nintendo. We'd much rather be out playing football, tennis, squash or golf. I played quite a bit of golf up to the age of seventeen and got down to a handicap of three before tennis took over. Maybe it runs in the family: my uncle Keith, Mum's brother, is a professional in America.
Andy and I never did anything really naughty growing up. We never got into trouble at school and never experimented with smoking or underage drinking but we were once in a bit of trouble for chucking eggs with some friends at Halloween. We would wind each other up a lot, but the only time I really hit him was when we were on a minibus coming back from the Solihull tournament. He had beaten me in the final and was going on and on about it. He had his hand on the armrest and I punched him right on the nail of a finger. There was a bit of blood and my mum had to stop the bus to sort us out. I didn't think it was that bad but the nail went black and blue and eventually fell off. He even had to get a tetanus shot the next day. He still talks about it and shows off the scar. I do regret it, but everyone has their breaking point.
I don't remember Mum telling me off really badly afterwards. I am sure she was annoyed but she was also understanding. She was – and is – a great mum to have. Dad is great as well. Even though they separated when we were teenagers, I've always thought we had a really good childhood and were brought up pretty well.
Looking back, it's strange that I wanted so much to go away from home when I was twelve. I loved being at home but I had this fierce ambition to board away from home because I wanted to be a tennis player and I thought that's what I'd have to do. I ended up at the LTA Tennis Academy in Cambridge. It was a rushed decision because I'd been told that my original choice, Bisham Abbey, was to be closed down, just four weeks before I was due to go. Everything had been arranged for Bisham Abbey and I was going to be looked after by Pat Cash's old coach, Ian Barclay. I'd known since the February that I would start in August and my bags had been packed for months! I was really excited and when things changed suddenly, I still wanted to go somewhere. The new regional centre at Cambridge was the option given to me by the LTA and it was a mistake. I was twelve years old and I didn't like it at all. My tennis suffered and I was often miserable on the phone home to my mum. My friends were at the same training academy, but I was a little younger than them so I was sent to a different boarding school. It would have been logical to come home sooner as I was so unhappy, but I wanted to try and stick it out – maybe I thought it was the brave thing to do. I stayed eight months in the end and then enough was enough.
Going away for that time meant that Andy and I didn't really see much of each other and my experience definitely put him off leaving home for his tennis. Three years later when he was fifteen, he went away to Spain, and though I was still competing we were nearly always at different tournaments. Even though we're very close in age – only fifteen months between us – it is really only in the past two years on the tour that we've been able to hang out together.
Things haven't changed that much since we were kids. We're pretty similar and we get on really well but we still argue about all sorts of things. I think that's normal. Andy still doesn't like being told what to do. Sometimes I get a bit annoyed with that. But he's his own person. I don't interfere with his decisions because he won't necessarily like what I say. It's not worth arguing. I think I'm more laid back than he is. Even if I'm doing something I don't want to, I still put on a smiley face and do it, whereas I think Andy is more likely to look completely fed-up.
I am very proud of what he is achieving in the game. He deserves it because he has put in the work. He's overcome so many ups and downs. I am sure in the next five to ten years he'll become a great player. I don't think there's any doubt about that. I guess he's inspired me to try to reach the level he is playing at. Obviously I'm not up to his standard, but in the doubles, with my partner Max Mirnyi, I am still playing on the ATP tour week-in, week-out. I'm loving it. I'm living the life I always wanted to lead.