I just try to play tennis and don't find excuses. You know, I just lost because I lost, not because my arm was sore.

I have so many runner-up cups that I am thinking of starting my own tea shop.

If I can't serve on grass, I can maybe help cut the grass, paint the lines and serve some strawberries.

There are not many Irish people playing tennis!

My sporting hero was Drazen Petrovic, the NBA basketball player, who was killed in a car accident in 1993. He was a good friend, an unbelievable player, and I dedicated my Wimbledon win to him.

Actually, I tossed it nicely, landed nicely, like airplane. No warning, beautiful. That's the art of throwing racquets.

When I won Wimbledon, I said to God: just let me win this one tournament and I won't play another match. Maybe God's telling me to go home, but I don't want to go home. We are negotiating at the moment.