THERE is, famously, no “i” in “team”. There is, however, one in “tennis”. And, we learned over the weekend, also “us”, them”, “mine” and “yours”.

I hadn’t really considered tennis a team sport before. Having watched the Grand Slam tournaments on the telly, especially Wimbledon, I’d regarded the average pro as being one of the loneliest creatures on the planet, up there with a Saharan traffic warden with BO. There you are, all on your own, having to contend with your opponent, eight myopic line judges, a snooty umpire and 8,000 spectators. No supportive teammates, no coach to give you tips, no friendly dressing room to look forward to at half-time.

That perception was changed, however, when I caught the last two days of the Davis Cup match between Britain and France on the BBC. In the doubles on Saturday Andy and Jamie Murray were having a great time, egging each other on, roared on by a raucous crowd, their teammates on the sidelines, and the captain, Leon Smith. In the singles on Sunday, Andy almost literally staggered home on the strength of the support of the crowd and the rest of team GB.

I couldn’t help but get caught up in it all. It was all I could do to stop myself from yelling obscenities at his opponent.

It must be a joy for a practitioner of a solitary sport to suddenly find you are not alone. It’s the same in golf, in the Ryder Cup, when your buddies are cheering your putt home and carrying you off the 18th green on their shoulders.

It is, I realise, something with which I can empathise, not that I’ve ever been carried on anyone’s shoulders. For I have played team chess.

Regular readers – and in fact anyone who knows me – will not be surprised to learn that this involved pubs. My chess career was played out in two bars in Aberdeen in my misspent twenties. When the manager of our local realised that four of his regulars played, he challenged his opposite number in the hostelry over the road to a match, which soon became a monthly fixture.

Chess not being the quickest sport in the world – combined with the fact that the pubs in question had only two chess sets between them – this action inevitably entailed copious intake of alcohol. But no vodka and Coke was as heady as a bunch of pub worthies roundly applauding my audacious capture of a bishop with a previously somnolent knight. All for one, and all that.

There is a Tibetan proverb about teamwork which says: "When he took time to help the man up the mountain, lo, he scaled it himself." They know their stuff, these Tibetans.