MISERABLE git. A disparaging couple of words, sufficiently jagged to cut deep into the psyche of any prickly youngster who is habitually sensitive to any form of criticism. For such an affront to be aimed at Andy Murray in the build-up to a spell of six weeks where his every move and utterance will be analysed by salaried and unofficial British sporting watchdogs alike, the reaction might well have been expletive-filled and irate.

Watching the Scot wend his way through the initial European clay-court tournaments that act as a prelude to the French Open was rather like being forced to witness a case-study of abject displeasure.

Occasionally there were flashes of brilliance, but the overwhelming impression was that of a young man at odds with not only himself but most things around him.

So when Murray’s affirmed role model, regular mentor and former Davis Cup colleague, Tim Henman, was caught off guard at a dinner and delivered the aforementioned brief but succinct description, few could disagree. Not even, it transpires, Murray himself.

Perhaps it was something to do with coming of age - the British No 1 celebrated his 21st birthday 11 days ago - or the fact that his initial opponent at Roland Garros, French wildcard entrant Jonathan Eysseric, is more than three years his junior. But an air of introspective maturity pervaded as Murray sat down to explain his current state of mind.

Seeded 10th in an event where he has never previously won a match, Murray has been told repeatedly by his clay-court coach Alex Corretja that the prime requisite in his bid to improve on January’s hugely disappointing Australian Open, when he lost in the first round, is to remain calm.

Last August, before the US Open, he even underwent a few anger-management sessions with sports psychologist Roberto Forzoni, an experience he has not seen the need to repeat, but he is aware that his feistiness is definitely an issue and admitted: “I was ranked No 8 in the world when I was 19 years old and there’s only been about 20 teenagers who have done that so if my temper was such a problem that I couldn’t play when I was getting angry then I don’t think I could have got to that level. It can be better but I don’t think that it’s been such a huge problem that it’s affected my game.”

Two months ago those close to Murray thought he might benefit from the input of communications consultant Stuart Higgins, a former editor of The Sun whose public relations company offered “crisis management support” for individuals and companies that find themselves in the news. Consequently it might be deduced that public image was deemed to be a problem for Team Murray. “The most important thing is that I’m comfortable on the court,” he insisted. “Ideally, everyone would like it if you were everyone’s cup of tea, it’s obviously a bit better than not many people liking you, but I’m not just going to become unnatural all of a sudden. Sure, there are some things that I could do better but it’s not anywhere near as important as getting the job done on the court.”

Umpires on the ATP tour are now acutely aware that Murray is always prepared to inform them forcibly of their errors in judgment and repeatedly resorts to the sort of industrial language that would make the blue-rinse brigade of Dunblane blush with embarrassment. “I do shout and swear sometimes,” he said, suppressing a slightly self-conscious grin. “Well, a lot of the time, actually, but I don’t do a lot of the stuff that the other players do.

“How often have you seen me smash my racket on court? I don’t tend to fire balls into the stands. I know I say things that I probably shouldn’t say on the court but off the court I’m not stumbling out of nightclubs or throwing up in front of the paparazzi's cameras.”

Murray maintains that a successful French Open is to survive until the second week and thereby justify his seeding. After the 387th-ranked Eysseric potential opponents include Argentina’s Jose Acasuso and Spain’s Nicolas Almagro, both clay-court specialists. “I think my game style against them can work well sometimes,” he concluded. “If I can come forward into the net and play a little bit flatter and serve well, they’ll find it difficult.”

Perhaps they will then fit the description of being miserable gits rather than the baseball-capped Scot on the other side of the net.