Why does Andy Murray want to be a content creator?

Old sportsmen never die; they just start a YouTube channel

Perhaps it was more of a 2010s reflex — one of the few seemingly impervious to the zero interest rates phenomenon or the rise of athleisure. When an adult asked a child what they wanted to be when they grow up and the reply came “A content creator”, the grown-up might respond with varying degrees of horror:

“A content creator! Why not an astronaut?”

Of course, becoming a content creator is by several astronomical units more achievable than becoming an astronaut, even taking into account the recent return of crewed Moon missions and ongoing advances in commercial space exploration.

So, this is my preemptively passive-aggressive way of saying: hey, I get it. I’m not one of those cranky, text-based, obsolescent-and-afraid-to-say-it grown-ups who finds change, whether technological or otherwise, visibly frightening.

Andy Murray won Wimbledon. Twice (Credit: Robbie Dale)

Want to monetise your first serious relationship or fly to Santorini for what seems to be a collab opportunity with an insurgent shoe brand (though the email from the PR wasn’t entirely clear)? It certainly sounds like a job.

My query is more limited in scope: why does Andy Murray — two-time Wimbledon champion, three-time major winner and father of four who sits atop career prize money of $65m and more than $100m in off-court earnings — want to be a content creator?

Posting Daley

Tom Daley is a fixture across algorithmic social media, his various platforms¹ awash with topless selfies, aggressively hipster knitwear and highly curated insights into family life. The former Olympic diver has a net worth of around £4m, largely on the back of sponsorships with the likes of Adidas and British Gas.

In a 2025 interview with The Times, Daley said: “I had to work really hard from the age of seven years old to set myself up in the way that I have… I never would have imagined that diving would be a viable career path for me.”

Social media has been critical to Daley’s commercial success. This aligns with his broader positioning, standing out initially by his youth (Daley was 14 years old when he competed at the Beijing Games), later his leading-twink handsome looks and his unusualness in being a publicly gay male athlete (coming out on YouTube, of course).

Murray’s wealth and position within the public imagination are quite different.

We are all media companies now

Obviously, the guy needs something to do other than golf. He isn’t yet 40 and lives in Britain, where tennis exists for one fortnight a year. The market for people who want to hear him talk technique, or why his entire game was, in the words of tennis writer Steve Tignor, an elaborate edifice to mask the fact that he lacked a point-ending forehand, is not large.

Nor is this to say Murray isn’t entitled to a bit of fun, or ought to retire from public life and pursue good works. He didn’t sleep with a young woman involved with a Soviet attaché and then lie about it to parliament. Still, it pains me to see him reduced to doing zany challenges for clicks, dustbin lid in hand, reaction face adorned to thumbnail.

Partly, the medium itself diminishes Murray, dragging him from one of the finest tacticians in tennis history to “former athlete tries frying pan challenge”. It’s low rent precisely because the incentives reward a certain type of performance. No doubt, it’s also a taste thing. I’ll be honest, I rather enjoyed the one in which the Murray brothers played with rackets from different eras.

In an earlier age, Murray would for financial reasons have been forced to become the pro at a regional tennis club, or run the local pub², called The Murrayfield Arms or The Ace & Racquet, perhaps with a few television adverts for washing powder thrown in during the summer months.

It’s scarcely my insight to observe that social media has transformed celebrity (and not just celebrity) from something you are into something you perform constantly. And so the odd thing isn’t that young people aspire to become content creators. It’s that people who’ve already won the game, set and match increasingly feel obliged to play it too.

In his 1951 farewell address to Congress, General Douglas MacArthur said: “Old soldiers never die; they just fade away”. I think I speak for many when I say: thank goodness MacArthur didn’t have access to a YouTube channel. Imagine the cringe:

“I Returned to the Philippines After Everyone Said It Was Impossible (BIGGEST Comeback Ever)”

“5 Leadership Lessons From a 5-Star General (You Won’t Believe #3)”

“How I Defeated an Empire: My Complete Pacific Strategy Breakdown”

“Reacting to My Own Standing Ovation (EMOTIONAL)”

1. You’re wrong, this is a good pun

2. He does in fact part own a hotel, Cromlix, near Dunblane in Scotland