Phillips knows all about the unglamorous side of life on the tennis circuit

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Avoiding a crazed knifeman in Algeria .. being attacked with sleeping gas on a night train through Romania .. getting strip-searched at the Hungarian border after trekking through wild gypsy villages in Serbia.

It sounds more like the life of Morgan Phillips Secret Agent, rather than Morgan Phillips, struggling tennis player trying to make ends meet.

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Morgan Phillips knows all about the hair-raising difficulties that can arise from not being one of the tennis tour's lesser lights

But this is life at the sharp end of a supposedly glamorous profession as experienced by the 23-year-old from Croydon.

It is a world we rarely get to hear about, though another young Englishman, Robert Dee, found temporary celebrity last month when he finally won his first qualifying match after 54 straight defeats in world ranking events, avoiding the basement circuit's longest sequence of losses.

History will not record that Phillips was in the same draw that week in the Spanish town of Reus. His status is slightly superior to Dee's in that he is one of 58 British players who possess a professional world ranking.

Not that Phillips is shouting about his official listing as the planet's 1570th best player, down more than 1000 places from his peak when a knee injury lay-off interrupted his progress.

His dream is to play at Wimbledon and after Reus could be found in the relatively palatial environs of Bournemouth's West Hants Club.

It was hosting a $10,000 ITF 'Futures' event, the lowest of the professional low, from which only the lucky few will graduate at some stage to earning a proper living from the sport.

By Wednesday he was checking out of his £35 bed and breakfast after a first-round defeat. At least he had a room.

"In Switzerland a couple of years ago I slept in the gym at the tennis club because the hotels were too expensive," he recalls. At least that was safe, which is not always the case for players heading to the ends of the earth in search of precious computer ranking points.

"I was playing in this tournament in Algiers against a German guy and suddenly we noticed all these people running in all directions," he recalls.

"We didn't know what was going on so carried on playing before we saw that someone with a knife was running amok in the clubhouse. He stabbed this woman three times, it was his ex-wife. We resumed about half an hour later and I managed to win the match. Apparently she survived.

"Travelling in Romania can be quite scary and you've always got to be on your guard. I was on this overnight train trying to sleep when this guy started spraying sleeping gas into the carriage. I grabbed my stuff and made a run for it down the other end of the train."

He could write an entertaining book about his experiences. "Once me and a Spanish friend were trying to get from a tournament in Belgrade to one in Hungary by bus but it dropped us off three miles from the border. We had to walk through these gypsy villages with all our kit the rest of the way and they were coming out of their houses and shouting at us, it was very intimidating. When we got to the border we were stripsearched and had to hitch a lift with a farmer."

It raises the question: why do it when the odds are stacked against making a serious career out of tennis?

"I've had some incredible life experiences that will stand me in good stead for whatever I end up doing. What really keeps you going in the end is the love of playing the game."

Phillips shows off his first-round losers' cheque for £81. Like many aspiring British players, he relies on a combination of outside financial help and earnings from another part of the tennis world rarely seen the thriving European club leagues.

"I get some help from a friend of the family. I fell out with my Dad because he wanted me to give up but I felt it was too soon. We are fine now.

"I play for teams in Italy, Spain and Germany. They fly you out for the weeked and pay your expenses plus a fee of about 700 euros a match. I'm based in Valencia and the tennis academy there lets me use their facilities for free."

Richard Irwin, another player in Bournemouth of similar age and standing, reckoned that, in the year after the LTA stopped his funding, his parents had spent £15-£20,000 to keep him going.

It is a world apart from the existence enjoyed by the young British players funded by the Lawn Tennis Association, who have hotels organised and paid for, even at the lowest level.

Despite the failure of their player pipeline, the LTA still believe such relative luxury is the way to produce tough, self-reliant competitors. Phillips is grateful for the support he has had from the governing body in his recent rehab, but questions the resourcefulness of compatriots who never have to live by their wits.

"Good luck to them," says Phillips, "but I'm not sure many would have a clue how to book their own flights or hotel or get somewhere by train."