Andy Murray says he want to become the Manchester United of tennis. Obviously, he is not thinking clearly.
It can't be easy to be Wimbledon champion.
And being a Scottish Wimbledon champion is practically impossible to comprehend.
Scotland do not win things.They haven't really won anything of note since they wore skirts and blue paint and followed Mel "Braveheart" Gibson into battle.
The Scots turn up, enjoy the sporting spectacle, accept defeat, get drunk and go home. Apparently, the supporters do the same.
So Murray had good reason not to be thinking and speaking rationally after becoming the first Brit in 77 years to win Wimbledon.
The last time a Brit lifted the prized crown, he was in long trousers.
Tennis players no longer wear long trousers. Scots don't wear long trousers at all. They wear kilts without underwear in the depths of the British winter just to prove that they can.
They are real mean in Scotland (until the Arctic winds whip up their kilts and they turn into real women).
But Murray is a real Scot and a real champion. It's the biggest shock a Scottish sportsman has pulled off in England since Kenny Dalglish bought Andy Carroll.
Unfortunately, Murray got ahead of himself. He vowed to become the Man U of his sport - a relentless, unstoppable trophy-winning machine.
Oh dear. He has no idea what he's saying.
To achieve that dream, he must expect a serious shift in his fan base. All his supporters will now come from just about everywhere except his native Scotland.
He will be buried beneath the bandwagon jumpers. For years, they have repeated themselves like a broken record, saying: "I've supported Manchester United since Gary Bailey was in goal, since Ron Atkinson was the manager, since they were terrible, since they all had afros."
Now they will say: "I've supported Andy Murray since he was losing in the first round of tournaments, since he was terrible, since he had an afro."
In point of fact, he allows that afro to rear its wavy head on far too many occasions. Like a fierce return of serve, it so often threatens to get away from him.
He held the afro in check during Wimbledon, but then highlights of his US Open triumph were replayed and the afro was back in all its Jackson Five glory.
If Murray truly goes the way of Manchester United, he's going to expect a backlash. Songs such as "Stand up if you hate Murray" would be rather harsh and perhaps out of place in the twee, genteel setting of Wimbledon's strawberries and champagne crowd.
Maybe they'll go with the more popular chant: "Who the f*** is Andy Murray?"
Personally, I'd pay good money to see and hear that at Wimbledon. Not to antagonise the faultless Murray of course, but just to witness the pearl necklace and pink gin mob do something other than fiddle with their straw hats.
Being Scottish does Murray no favours either. He claims he wants to follow in Sir Alex Ferguson's footsteps and match his consistency and concentration in the sporting arena, but every performance, every victory and defeat will be compared to Fergie.
Every nod, sigh, twitch and yawn from the elder statesman in the private box will be analysed and interpreted. Every gesture, every eye rub... hang on, are we still talking about Murray?
If the comparison was any closer, David Moyes would declare his intention of becoming the Andy Murray of football.
He's a no-nonsense Scot who doesn't suffer fools - or the media - gladly.
So Moyes is halfway to becoming Murray already. But the afro might be a struggle.
The other drawback to consider is that every opponent will want to beat the self-proclaimed Manchester United of tennis.
That's true of any champion, but rivals really, really want to defeat the Red Devils.
There is a pathological obsession with silencing Old Trafford.
The dramatic comebacks and the vein-popping outbursts from former personnel never did United any favours.
So as long as Murray doesn't employ either Paul Ince or Roy Keane, he should be fine.
He's fortunate that he has Ivan Lendl as a coach. A master strategist, Lendl makes Madame Tussauds look like an all-night party at the Playboy Mansion.
For those unfamiliar with Madame Tussauds, think of famous, unmoving, celebrity statues... That was Lendl in Murray's box at Wimbledon.
Had he moved any less, Lendl risked being embalmed.
But he has turned Murray into a Wimbledon winner.
Now the Scot hopes to be a serial winner, emulating the glorious feats of Ferguson and Manchester United.
If he achieves that dream, Murray will boast a global fan base to rival United.
From Singapore to Shanghai and Senegal, supporters will sing his name everywhere.
Except in Liverpool.