At last! The moment Andy Murray ended Britain's 77-year Wimbledon wait

Good God, what must have been going through his mind?

It was 11 minutes past five when Andy Murray sat by the side of Centre Court and placed a towel
around his heaving shoulders. His body ached, his head throbbed. Focus, focus. He was one game, one service game, from home.
The sound of his name, chanted by 16,000 voices and more outside the arena, filled the heavy air. This was his trophy to lose now. History was his to make, or break. Murray was no longer dealing with 77 years of hope, but one crystallised moment of overwhelming expectation. Not just theirs, but his.

Party time: Andy Murray poses with trophy at the Winners Ball after his victory over Novak Djokovic

Perfect pair: Murray with his girlfriend Kim Sears (left) who was ever present during his Wimbledon journey

Happy families: Murray hugs his parents Judy and William as they celebrate his famous victory

There was more than a prize to lose now. There was his sanity. To stand so close, within touching distance, and to have that treasure denied. How could he, would he, recover from that? He concentrated his thoughts instead on minutiae. Went back to basics.
He honed in on where he wanted his first serve to land, cleared all but the technical details from his head. He was four serves away from Eden. If he placed them right, the rest would take care of itself.
Novak Djokovic was up, on the balls of his feet, and waiting. The fever built, a noise never heard on Centre Court. A frenzy of longing, delirious, fit to burst.
Murray walked to his spot. The same spot he had occupied dozens of times that afternoon. Bounce, bounce, bounce, glance up, bounce, bounce, bounce. The people within the arena were silent now, tense, primed to explode, relying on one man to trigger their wildest dreams. Wind up, ready and, serve. He would do that three times.

Winners: Murray with the Ladies champion Marion Bartoli (left) and with his mum, Judy

British hero: The dinner was held at The InterContinental Hotel in London

Close friend: Murray's mate Ross Hutchins was also in attendance

Past and present: Martina Hingis, a former champion, was present alongside this year's winner Marion Bartoli

On each occasion the point fell in his favour. Forty love. He was, potentially, one shot away. One golden shot.
Around Centre Court, anticipation, like the thermometer mercury, had risen off the scale. At 1.50pm, the heat in the direct sun stood at 49.8 degrees, making this the hottest final since Bjorn Borg defeated Ilie Nastase in 1976. It was cooler now, in the late afternoon, but stickier, clammy in other ways.
Everyone was sweating, Murray through the exertion of combat, the onlookers overcome by the stress of having hit every shot in their imaginations. There were false cries of ‘out’ midway through rallies, groans if a first serve struck the net.
They had lived it with him, every moment, and now they were going to capture the image for posterity. These people had the most valuable tickets in the history of British sport — exchanges claimed £70,000 a pair, although that sounds far-fetched — yet they were content to watch its climatic moment through the tiny window of a smartphone camera. Thousands of them, all pointed at Murray, ready to record the confident finishing flourish of a champion. He would dispatch Djokovic, the mighty Djokovic, to love for the crown.
It was not as simple as that. Nothing is as simple as that. How could it be, in these meetings of supermen? So Murray did not serve it out. Not then. The cameras captured only his struggle, a teeter on the brink of implosion. Three times, he tried to hit that perfect mark, and three times Djokovic was more than equal to his challenge. Deuce. Panic. Now it felt different, Murray recalled later.

Day to remember: Philip Brook, the Wimbledon chairman (centre), with Bartoli and Murray

Talk of the town: Judy and Kim enjoy the afterparty as Murray mingles at the Winners Ball

The winners' table: Murray takes his place among the Wimbledon glitterati at the Intercontinental Hotel

Final fling: The winners of the womens' and mens' doubles and the boys' and girl's singles events arrive

The aura of calm had departed. His mind was racing. Dark thoughts crowded in. Suppose this was not his time, after all? Suppose this was not his destiny. Suppose his legacy was darker, torturous, a stain? The man who blew three match points at Wimbledon. The man who, given the chance to calm the restless spirit of Fred Perry, choked.
Djokovic was a fighter. Djokovic was notorious for his resilience, his determination, for sheer bloody mindedness in battle. His comebacks were legendary, so too his feats of athleticism. And there he stood, waiting to receive. Advantage Djokovic. Deuce. Advantage Djokovic. Deuce. Advantage Djokovic. Deuce. Advantage Murray.
Game.
Murray.
It was a blur, he said. A blank. He could not remember the shot Djokovic played — a simple backhand return, into the net — and the precise placement of the serve deserted him, too. He celebrated, he screamed in release and delight, but the overwhelming emotion was disbelief.

Proud: Murray poses with coach Ivan Lendl after winning the one trophy that eluded the great Czech

We did it: Mum Judy gives girlfriend Kim a hug as their man's achievement starts to sink in

All smiles: Murray's audience is appreciative as he takes questions from Andrew Castle at the glitzy dinner

Proud: Murray's mum, Judy, celebrated her son's victory, while former champion Ann Jones was also present

Murray staggered, suddenly numb. He fell to his knees. He made his way up to his friends, colleagues and family — the famous Team Murray that have stood by him throughout. Yet that emotional journey is almost expected of champions these days. Marion Bartoli had climbed on to the same roof on winning the women’s title the day before. Murray was in such a trance, he almost forget his mum, Judy.
The first hug went to Ivan Lendl. Murray said there was no pecking order, but it was strangely appropriate. The arrival of Murray the winner coincides with that of Lendl the coach. The desire was always there, but Lendl has given his man the steel to turn talent into achievement.
‘Ideally, he would have won it himself,’ Murray deadpanned, ‘but I think this was the next best thing for him.’
It was almost refreshing to hear that dour monotone when it came time to share his thoughts with Sue Barker and Centre Court. It would not have felt right for Murray to become squealing and emotional. Those who do not know him mistake his flatness of speech for absence of personality. He is nothing like that image, really. He is warm, friendly and accommodating, with a dry sense of humour and far more personable than his detractors imagine.

Writing the history books: Andy Murray is the first Brit to lift the Wimbledon men's trophy since 1936

More than ever, at this Wimbledon, the crowd has warmed to him, and this is the first time the silence has not been broken by an infantile cry of ‘Come on, Tim’ as Murray prepares to serve. There were a few whose excitement got the better of them, but these were spontaneous and genuine eruptions of excitement and support, not some childish little gag at Murray’s expense. Really, you would rather it were Tim Henman on Centre Court, sir? Sadly, he wasn’t in Murray’s class. Nobody from here has been; probably not even Fred Perry, given the different levels of athleticism and pressure of the two eras. Perry did not have 77 years of anguish to extinguish either. When he first won Wimbledon in 1934, the previous British champion was from 20 tournaments ago, not a lifetime.
Murray has never whined about the pressure of Wimbledon fortnight, perhaps believing it would give him an excuse to fail, but the trophy safely stashed, he could expose his true feelings.

Champion: Andy Murray celebrates on his way to celebrate with the crowd after winning the Wimbledon title

‘It’s been hard,’ he said. ‘Really hard. For the last four or five years, it’s been very, very tough, very stressful, and a lot of pressure. The few days before the tournament are really difficult and the last two days are never easy. It’s everywhere you go. It’s so hard to avoid everything because of how big this event is, and also the history and no British player having won for so long.
‘I didn’t always feel it was going to happen. It’s incredibly difficult to win these events and I don’t think that’s that well understood sometimes. It takes so much hard work, so much mental toughness, to win these tournaments. A couple years ago when I lost in the semi-finals to Rafa Nadal, I was up a set, maybe a break as well, or had break points at least, and didn’t get through. That was a tough one. It should get easier from here. I hope it will. Mentally, that last game will be the toughest I’ll play in my career, ever.’

Family affair: Murray embraces mother Judy as she cries tears of joy after her son's victory

Can't believe it: Murray collapses in celebration on Centre Court after winning his Championship point

Tough battle: A exhausted Murray embraces opponent Novak Djokovic after the heroic straight sets win

The monkey is off his back now. Two monkeys really. The first was to win a Grand Slam, which he did at the US Open last year. The next was to win his home Slam and, in doing so, bring to an end the constant humiliation of having no British champion since Stanley Baldwin was Prime Minister. To be ‘the first Brit to ever win this tournament in shorts,’ as Murray was called by one American observer.
Yet there was even more to it than that. Murray has long been on a mission to alter public perceptions of his home town, Dunblane, in Scotland. He wanted it to be remembered for producing Britain’s finest tennis player, rather than a shooting tragedy at a school that claimed many of his young friends, and was lucky not to have taken him. When Murray looks to the skies after matches, it has been speculated this is an act of remembrance, and thanks. Dunblane is Murray Town now. He can never erase that history, but he has obscured it.
So in that context, Murray’s victory on Sunday had one final layer, which maybe he has not realised yet. It happened on July 7. The day that extremists attacked London’s public transport system in 2005. Might 7/7 now also become the anniversary of a Briton finally winning Wimbledon? Such a happy thought. Murray would like that.

Adulation: Murray lifts the famous trophy to the adoring Centre Court crowd after his win

Not letting go: Murray cradles the trophy the British public have craved since Fred Perry's win in 1936

Making history: Murray celebrates winning the first set on the way to his historic victory

Flying: But World No 1 Djokovic was defeated by the brilliant Scot in straight sets

Trophy collection: Djokovic, with the runners'-up shield, congtratulates Murray after his win

Acing the competition: Murray delighted the Centre Court crowd by being in top form in the final

Cheering him on: Murray's girlfriend Kim Sears was right behind him as he made British sporting history

Exultation: Murray became the first Brit to win the men's Wimbledon singles title for 77 years

Splitting it up: Serbian world No 1 Djokovic takes a slide on the Centre Court grass

Magical: Murary celebrates another point on the way to winning the coveted title

On target: Murray was in sensational form as he claimed the Wimbledon title against the world No 1 Djokovic

Vocal support: Tennis fans swamped Murray Mound to cheer their hero on at the All England Club

No enough: World No 1 Novak Djokovic aims a shot but cannot stop Murray triumphing in straight sets

Range of emotions: Murray shows his frustration after losing a point (left) and celebrates after the match