ELDER statesmen of the Conservative party are commonly dubbed Tory Grandees. What is Labour’s equivalent?

No matter. Alan Milburn, who cut his political teeth as Labour MP for Darlington, has matured into one of these senior figures, whose interventions in current politics, usually carefully selected, are seized upon as the weighty word of experience.

So Mr Milburn, Labour’s Health Secretary from 1999 to 2003, drew the publicity spotlight with his rubbishing of Labour’s plans for the NHS. In remarks widely recycled, he told the BBC’s World at One: “I think the biggest risk for Labour on health, and indeed more generally, is that we could look like we’re sticking to our comfort zone but aren’t prepared to strike out into territory that in the end the public know any party of government will have to strike into – which is to make some difficult changes and difficult choices.”

That’s opaque in the customary manner of political speak. What territory? What difficult changes and choices? Since Mr Milburn is an arch Blairite it seems reasonable to assume the territory is more private finance and services. The difficult changes and choices are probably the rationing or curtailment of treatments, some of which has already occurred. According to Mr Milburn, we, the public, know this is inevitable.

Well, let’s go back to the start of the NHS, in 1948. The country was on its uppers. Every major city needed rebuilding. Industry needed modernising. There could hardly have been a more “difficult” time to launch the welfare state, centred on the NHS.

But launch it the Labour government did, and the NHS has proved to be the greatest achievement of this nation – indeed perhaps of any nation.

Almost half a century on it remains the most valued feature of British life. Would it ever have got off the blocks if the spirit that animated its creators, especially health minister Aneurin Bevan, who pushed it through against stiff opposition from the Tory party and sections of the medical world, had been more like the no-can-do of Mr Milburn?

THE Australian Open Tennis Championship turned out to be disastrous for Team Murray. Not so much Andy’s fourth final defeat – though he saw it that way. Someone has to lose and, since reaching a final is an achievement in itself, there’s really no disgrace or humiliation in losing, whatever the score. That’s what I was brought up to believe – and still do.

But trashing three rackets as Murray did during and following his defeat by Novak Djokovic is a disgrace – or rather a triple disgrace. So is bad mouthing your opponent, particularly during the game – more bad sportsmanship by Murray in the final.

Then there was the foul swearing by his fiancee Kim Sears. Did she show regret that her liberal use of the F word and others scarcely less vile during Murray’s semi-final had been lip-read? No. She compounded the offence in the final by wearing a T-shirt warning of “explicit content” – virtually confirming that her use of bad language is standard.

Never a great crowd favourite, Andy Murray nevertheless gained much goodwill when he finally ended Fred Perry’s 77-year reign as Britain’s last Wimbledon men’s champion. But he risks squandering that support. Down here, we can disown him as a Scot.