US Open increases winners' cheques to continue glory in concentration of wealth at the top In America, tennis glories in this concentration of wealth at the top. I still cringe at the memory of how Murray, desolate after defeat to Federer in the 2008 final in New York, was told by some USTA suit via booming on-court microphone: "Andy, you've just won one million dollars!" One struggles to imagine Sue Barker ever being quite so vulgar. There are those who argue that, say, James Ward's £23,000 for falling at the first at Wimbledon represents an eye-watering reward for failure. But if you consider that this son of a taxi driver has since had to fund trips to tinpot challenger events in Granby, Québec, then Lexington, Kentucky and Aptos, California, it assumes rather modest dimensions. These might sound like tour stops for a middling rock band, yet the glamour tends to vanish when you are scrabbling to pay for the last room at the Econo Lodge. And then sharing it with your fitness trainer. Further down the food chain, the situation can be worse - far worse. Andrew Fitzpatrick, the British No 21, claims that last September at an obscure futures tournament in Binh Duong, Vietnam, he was the victim of an attempted sexual assault in the shower room. His bag was also stolen. Here was a 24-year-old with ambitions of realising his talent however and wherever he could, subsisting in a fashion not just hand-to-mouth but downright dangerous. "I am pretty much by myself out here, so anything that happens feels amplified," he said at the time. I don't have anyone to confide in. Fitzpatrick has been known to book accommodation through the CouchSurfing website, giving him beds in local homes. Life Federer-style, feted at every turn and ferried in courtesy SUVs, it is not. Similarly, it is difficult to find another sport where chasing the dream necessitates such gruelling toil. Utter mediocrities in football can be remunerated to the tune of £10,000 a week, while in golf, PGA Tour players can happily trot along in the middle of the pack while acquiring absurd fortunes. Briny Baird, a good ol" boy from Florida, has amassed £8 million and has never so much as won a tour title. Men's tennis purports to inhabit a golden age and, to a point, this is true. For five years Federer illuminated the sport with the type of dream tennis never witnessed before or since, and with it has come fanciful money for the very few. One tournament director has argued that top players do not help their brethren by gobbling up a minimum of 40 per cent of the money. Unlike the women's game, the ATP Tour still permits appearance fees, too. Federer is believed to set his at around £1 million a time and organisers in Basle, the hometown event he talks about so effusively, disclose that he is refusing to play there in October until they meet it. "Roger's humble," says Pete Sampras. Next time you see Federer in that cringeworthy Mercedes advert - "athlete, idol, dad" - think, perhaps, of João Sousa and the thousands of other itinerants suffering in this sport of extremes.