By the time you read this, I’m hoping Andy Murray will have safely seen off Nick Kyrgios in the first round of the US Open. And, following the latter’s recent sledging incident, I’m sure plenty of tennis fans around the world were also willing Muzza to kick some Kyrgios butt.

Let me translate for those not fluent in sports parlance. The sledging in question has nothing to do with pushing kids down a hill in a £9.99 plastic mould bought in Argos. No, this sort of sledging involves verbally intimidating your opponent in the hope of putting them off.

Kyrgios, a gallus 20-year-old Aussie, was caught and fined for doing exactly that to Stan Wawrinka during a match in Montreal a couple of weeks ago. Something about Wawrinka’s girlfriend “banging” someone else, apparently. Charming. All down to the heat of the moment, Kyrgios said by way of an apology. At the time I was not impressed. How unsporting. How simply not tennis.

My own behaviour at the weekend, however, forced me to think again.

I recently started playing tennis again after 20-odd years and I’m as rusty as a 1980s Yugo. But, rather unexpectedly, I’ve noticed a new facet creeping into my game: competitiveness. Where I used to be too nice to call my opponent’s ball out, now I’m screaming at anything within a foot of the line. I now run down every ball rather than stand, as I used to, in a glaikit reverie. I’ve honestly no idea where all this has come from.

On Sunday, I played a set with a 5ft 11, 17-year-old. I’m 5ft 5, more than twice his age and only gave up the fags a few weeks ago, so two minutes into the warm-up I knew he was going to hammer me. But my new competitiveness still kicked in. Every serve that flew past made me mad. Every “oh, unlucky” he sportingly offered got me madder.

And then, at 5-0 down, without even realising it I sledged him. “That all you’ve got, big man, eh, eh?” I heard myself sneer as we changed ends. My next four balls went straight into the net – my sledging hadn’t put him off, it had put me off. Game, set and match the teenager. I was mortified as we shook hands at the net. But I couldn’t quite bring myself to apologise.

I thought of Kyrgios. If I get this competitive on a public court, imagine what it’s like on the professional tour. Maybe he deserves a break. Or maybe I need to get better at sledging. Perhaps personalised, virility-based insults work better. Advice welcome.