WELL, it was a battle yesterday, wasn’t it?

And thanks for the interest from Scotland. As you know, I was born in Joburg, we moved to New Zealand and as a teenager I took off to England, then studied in the States. I know that suggests I’m as Scottish as a Māori cape.

Well, my mum is Welsh, but my dad is from Glasgow. And he has a filthy Scottish accent. So that should do it, eh? And I have been to Scotland you know. Once. Edinburgh. Does that count? Okay, I couldn’t tell you what’s going on in River City, but I’ve heard the cast aren’t that sure either.

But I did see Gregory’s Girl when at high school in Auckland and I know the first verse of Flower of Scotland, thanks to my dad – which at least gives Tennis Scotland and Nicola the chance to piggyback on my name.

What, you want to know about my sudden arrival into the tennis consciousness? Well, I’m 26 so it’s not been that sudden. Having left New Zealand, it didn’t work out for me too well at tennis training camp in England, so I went off to Texas Christian University.

Then came the defining point in my career. I couldn’t make up my mind whether my main priority in life was to chase girls and drink beer all night, or chase little green balls around a court. But then one night after a party I crashed my moped and suffered concussion.

I know. It’s a horrific story. Can you imagine what it’s like to tell people you own a moped?

My no-nonsense coach gave me an ultimatum; ‘Give up the babes and the booze – or go back to herding sheep in Kiwiland, Cam." So, I focused, although I needed a visual distraction. I said to my coach that I wanted my college matches to have a little fanfare. I wanted the cheerleaders there. Well, you need to have some reward in life. Of course, this was long before I met my girlfriend, Louise.

Oh, yes, you want to know what it was like to play Novak? As you saw, it was tough. But I learned a huge amount. And I’m determined to get even better. Yes, I’m not the most stylish player in the world. My backhand swing is shorter than Nick Kyrgios’s temper. My forehand swing is longer than John McEnroe’s interview answers. Just ask poor Sue Barker.

But as a result, I no longer have to deal with the same old question day after day; "Who are you?" This wasn’t any existentialist request that I consider my own character make up. People just didn’t know me. I was described as the Best British Player No One Had Ever Heard Of. But now they do.

So, here’s the thing. I had a great Wimbledon. I’m delighted. And not only am I happy to be Scottish, I’m now listening to old Rod Stewart albums. He’s Scottish as well, right?

• As imagined by Brian Beacom