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After 77 Years, Murray and Britain Rule After 77 Years, Murray Restores British Rule
(about 5 hours later)
WIMBLEDON, England — On Sunday before yet another men’s final, the fans in their broad-brimmed hats and sunscreen stopped to take pictures and pay tennis tribute to the bronze statue of Fred Perry, which stands just outside Centre Court at Wimbledon. WIMBLEDON, England — Whatever will the British talk about next year at Wimbledon?
Perry, a debonair Englishman, won the last of his three Wimbledon singles titles in 1936. But by late afternoon, with the shadows extending across the most important and historic court in tennis, Perry no longer stood alone. For 77 years, they had Fred Perry and the noble yet clearly star-crossed search for his successor as a conversation starter in the early summer days at the All England Club.
Andy Murray, a 26-year-old Scot, put a convincing end to a 77-year drought for the British men at the tournament that matters most to British men and their public. Murray did it by defeating Novak Djokovic, the No. 1 seed, without the loss of a set: 6-4, 7-5, 6-4. But now, in a flurry of booming serves and full-stretch forehand winners, Andy Murray has given them the privilege of moving on.
“Let’s Make History,” read one of the many signs being waved inside Centre Court on this steamy day. On Sunday before the start of the men’s final, fans in broad-brimmed hats and sunscreen stopped as usual to pose for pictures and pay tribute at the bronze statue of Perry, just outside Centre Court. A debonair Englishman, Perry won the last of his three Wimbledon singles titles in 1936. But by late afternoon, with shadows extending across the game’s most historic court, he no longer stood alone.
And so Murray, long frustrated and even driven to tears by losing last year’s final, proceeded to do just that. He did it by proving better in the clutch and on the run than Djokovic, the game’s premier defender and marathon man. Murray did it by rallying from a break of serve down in the last two sets and then shrugging off the loss of three match points and a 40-0 lead in the final game on his own serve. Murray, a 26-year-old Scotsman with a rolling gait and a deep competitive streak, put a convincing end to the long drought in singles for the British men at the tournament. He managed it by defeating Novak Djokovic, the No. 1 seed, 6-4, 7-5, 6-4.
He kept pushing, kept trying, as so many British men with lesser skills have tried through the decades, but this time the ending was different. “Let’s Make History,” read one of the many signs waved inside Centre Court on this warm day full of roars and shouts. And so Murray, long frustrated and even driven to tears by losing last year’s final, systematically proceeded to do just that.
On Murray’s fourth match point, Djokovic hit a two-handed backhand into the tape, and the final, with that burst of sound, was over. The No. 2 seed, Murray made history by proving better in the clutch and on the run than Djokovic, the game’s premier defender. He made it by rallying from a break of a serve down in each of the last two sets and then shrugging off the loss of three match points and a 40-0 lead in the edgy final game on his own serve.
After such a lengthy vigil, it was reasonable to expect something extraordinary: a rainbow, a back flip, a spontaneous, perfectly pitched “God Save the Queen” from the Centre Court crowd. Murray kept hustling, kept hoping, as so many British men have hustled and hoped through the decades: from Bunny Austin to the perennial semifinalist Tim Henman, who long carried the British burden here with dignity.
But the celebration — tinged with relief — bore instead a strong resemblance to many other celebrations of recent years. This ending, however, broke new ground. On Murray’s fourth match point, Djokovic — scrambling to keep the rally going after a desperation return of Murray’s first serve — struck a two-handed backhand into the tape.
After Djokovic’s backhand struck the net, Murray stripped off his cap, pumped his fists and then shook hands with Djokovic, an old friend and rival, before climbing into the players box to embrace his family and friends, nearly forgetting his mother and boyhood coach, Judy Murray, before reversing course and hugging her, too. With that last sound effect, this high-profile final was history.
Then came the on-court interview, where Murray had broken down, microphone in hand, after losing a lead and the final to Roger Federer last year. “That last game will be the toughest game I’ll play in my career, ever,” Murray said.
“It feels slightly different to last year,” began Murray, proving that understatement extends to Scotland, as well. “Last year was one of the toughest moments of my career, so to manage to win the tournament today, it was an unbelievably tough match. So many long games, and I don’t know how I managed to come through that final game.” After such a lengthy vigil, it was reasonable to expect something extraordinary: a back flip, a rainbow, a Centre Court conga line, perhaps a spontaneous and perfectly pitched “God Save the Queen” from the crowd.
Sue Barker, the BBC broadcaster, told Murray that the game had been “torturous to watch.” But the celebration — tinged with relief — stuck to the now-customary climb into the player box and the jacket-and-tie protocol that has long applied to the trophy ceremony.
Murray skipped a beat and said, “Imagine playing it.” The winner, however, was an original, and not just because he was the first British man to win this title in shorts.
He then spoke of Djokovic. “Somebody had to break this elusive, holy grail type of thing, and I’m glad it was Murray,” said Pat Cash, the former Wimbledon champion from Australia who has lived in Britain for nearly 30 years. “You needed a tough, gritty kid to do it. He may not be the perfect, Tim Henman-type English guy with a middle-class upbringing. He’s a gritty young Scotsman, and you need a bit of that attitude to win these things.”
“I’ve played Novak many times, and I think when everyone is finished playing he’s going to go down as one of the biggest fighters,” Murray said. “He’s come back so many times from losing positions, and he almost did the same again today. So that made it extra tough, and I don’t know how I managed to squeeze through in the end.” After Djokovic’s backhand struck the net, Murray stripped off his cap, pumped both fists in the direction of the stands and eventually dropped to the grass, pitching forward into a crouch, alone with his thoughts and consummated dreams.
It has not been 77 years since a British player won at Wimbledon. Virginia Wade won the women’s singles titles in 1977 (the sevens were a numerologists’ feast Sunday). Murray then rose and shook hands with and embraced Djokovic, an old friend and rival. He later made his way to the players box to embrace his family, friends and extensive support team, including his coach, Ivan Lendl. He nearly forgot his mother and boyhood coach, Judy Murray, before reversing course and hugging her, too.
But the British men — from Bunny Austin to Tim Henman — kept swinging and missing until Murray finally arrived: a once-in-a-generation talent from the unlikely tennis destination of Dunblane, Scotland. It is a small city better known for tragedy than victory until Murray’s achievements because of a massacre at Murray’s own primary school in 1996 in which a gunman shot and killed 16 students, all 5 or 6, and one of their teachers. Then came the once-perilous on-court interview, where Murray had broken down, microphone in hand, after losing a lead and the final to Roger Federer last year.
Murray has rarely discussed the episode, but it has been a subtle driving force for him and his tennis family, which includes his older brother Jamie, once a leading doubles player, and their mother Judy, a former professional player who is now Britain’s Fed Cup captain. “It feels slightly different to last year,” Murray said, proving that understatement extends to Scotland. “Last year was one of the toughest moments of my career, so to manage to win the tournament today, it was an unbelievably tough match.”
“It’s just nice that I’ve been able to do something that the town is just proud of,” Andy Murray said between tears in a BBC television documentary about his life that was broadcast shortly before these championships. It has not been 77 years since a British player won at Wimbledon. Virginia Wade won the women’s singles title in 1977. But the British men kept swinging and missing until Murray finally arrived: a once-in-a-generation talent from the unlikely tennis destination of Dunblane.
But Murray is now making a habit of making all of Britain proud, and if Sunday’s final seemed to lack the full-force emotional impact that a 77-year wait would suggest, that is also because of Murray’s achievements in the last year. The town was better known for tragedy than triumph until Murray’s achievements because of a massacre at his primary school in March 1996, when a gunman shot and killed 16 students and a teacher.
Only a few weeks after losing in last year’s Wimbledon final, he came back to win the Olympic gold medal on the same stretch of lawn at the All England Club. A few weeks after that, he won his first Grand Slam singles title — after four straight losses in finals — at the United States Open. Murray, who was in attendance that day, rarely discusses the incident publicly, but it has been a subtle driving force for him and his tennis family, which includes his older brother, Jamie, once a leading doubles player, and their mother, a former professional player who is now Britain’s Fed Cup captain.
But Wimbledon was still, as ever, the big one, and the Murray who returned to this year was a more settled, confident young man. It showed, above all, in the final, even though there were a few frights along the way: including a nervy comeback from a two-set deficit in the quarterfinals to defeat the unseeded Spaniard Fernando Verdasco. But even if Murray is proudly Scottish in a time of political division between Scotland and England, he is now in the habit of making his whole nation proud.
Murray’s draw, by the standards of this golden age of tennis, was a stroll, all the more so because the former champions Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer, who were both in his half of the draw, were upset before the third round. “It’s incredibly difficult to win these events,” he said. “I don’t think that’s that well understood sometimes. It takes so much hard work, mental toughness.”
But Murray still had to deal with greatness in the uber-flexible form of Djokovic, the Serbian polyglot who had beaten him 11 times in 18 matches and three times in a row: most recently in the final of the Australian Open. If Sunday’s final seemed to lack the full-force emotional impact that a 77-year wait would suggest, that is perhaps attributable to Murray’s achievements in the last year.
They were born just one week apart and have known each other since they were juniors on the European circuit, first playing at age 11. Their games and skills and athleticism are now similar enough that to watch them play is to watch equal forces canceling each other out. After losing in last year’s Wimbledon final, he came back to win the Olympic gold medal at the All England Club. He then won his first Grand Slam singles title — after four straight losses in finals — at the United States Open.
The rallies, as usual, were long and exhausting on Sunday; the territory excruciatingly difficult to conquer; the tactical solutions largely unclear. This straight-set match lasted a lengthy 3 hours 9 minutes for a reason, and the terms of engagement were clear from the very first point: a lengthy, deliberate exchange of baseline blows. The Murray who returned to Wimbledon this year was more settled and confident. His draw, in terms of his opponents’ rankings, was a stroll. But he had to deal with greatness in the flexible form of Djokovic, who had beaten him 11 times in 18 matches and 3 times in a row.
Fred Perry, a paragon of classic, attacking grasscourt tennis, would have surely rubbed his eyes in disbelief at the style of play that predominated on Sunday. The grass, in essence, could have been cement or red clay. “It must mean a lot to everybody,” Djokovic said of Murray’s victory. “Wimbledon is the most important tennis tournament in the world. Especially for him as a British player and the crowd, couldn’t be a more perfect setting for them. So he deserved to win, and that’s it.”
On the court where the serve and the ace once ruled in men’s tennis, Djokovic and Murray combined for 30 break points and 11 breaks of serve: 4 for Djokovic and 7 for Murray. Murray and Djokovic were born a week apart, and their games, athleticism and staying power are now so similar that to watch them play is to watch equal forces canceling each other out. There is, for now, more hard labor than high art in their rivalry. The rallies Sunday were long and exhausting, the territory excruciatingly difficult to conquer, the tactical solutions largely unclear. This straight-set match lasted 3 hours 9 minutes for a reason.
The difference was in the details: serves that landed in the corners instead of in what the British call “the tramlines”; half-volleys that struck the net cord and tumbled over for a winner. Perry, a paragon of classic, attacking grass-court tennis, would have surely rubbed his eyes in disbelief at the grinding baseline style that predominated. On the court where the serve once reigned, Djokovic and Murray combined for 30 break points and 11 breaks of serve: 4 for Djokovic and 7 for Murray.
But there were some broad-brush realities, too. Murray was much more effective with his first serve: winning 72 percent of the points to Djokovic’s 59 percent. And Djokovic, more often the aggressor than the defender was also not nearly as effective as he needed to be when he decided to swallow hard, take the risk and attempt to unlock an extended point. The difference was in the details. But there were broad-brush realities, too. Murray was more effective with his first serve, winning 72 percent of the points to Djokovic’s 59 percent. Djokovic, often the aggressor, was not nearly as effective at the net as he needed to be when he risked unlocking an extended point.
“I wasn’t patient enough in the moments when I should have been, when I should have looked for a better opportunity to attack,” he said. “And my serve wasn’t as good as it was the whole tournament. But that’s also because he’s such a good returner. Even when I was putting my first serves in he was always getting them back in the court and making me play an extra shot. That’s why he won the tournament.” “I wasn’t patient enough in the moments when I should have been, when I should have looked for a better opportunity to attack,” he said.
Djokovic, who led 4-1 in the second set and 4-2 in the third set, also looked less spry and energetic than usual. He has recovered so often and so well from marathon matches that it now seems surprising when he does not, but his spectacular five-set, nearly five-hour semifinal victory over Juan Martin del Potro on Friday appeared to exact a toll. Djokovic, who led by 4-1 in the second set and 4-2 in the third, also looked less fresh and elastic than usual. He has recovered so often from marathon matches that it now seems surprising when he fails, but his five-set, nearly five-hour semifinal win over Juan Martín del Potro on Friday appeared to exact a toll.
“It took a lot out of me,” Djokovic said, emphasizing that he was not looking for excuses. “I’ve been in these situations before. I felt O.K. Maybe physically, because I didn’t feel maybe I had enough gas in the important moments, I went for my shots more than usual.”“It took a lot out of me,” Djokovic said, emphasizing that he was not looking for excuses. “I’ve been in these situations before. I felt O.K. Maybe physically, because I didn’t feel maybe I had enough gas in the important moments, I went for my shots more than usual.”
Meanwhile, Murray, who has slowly remade his physique into a weapon over the last few years, was running down drop shot after drop shot in the final stages: hitting passing shots on the stretch and making the road back look like the road from Everest base camp to Djokovic. Murray ran down drop shot after drop shot in the final stages. Still, even in straight sets, it never appeared easy, just as Wimbledon has never felt easy to Murray since he first played in the main draw at 18.
Still, even in straight sets, it never looked easy, just as Wimbledon has never felt easy to Murray since he first played in the main draw at age 18. “For the last four or five years, it’s been very tough, very stressful, a lot of pressure,” he said.
“It’s hard, really hard,” he said. “For the last four or five years, it’s been very tough, very stressful, a lot of pressure.” But after 77 years, and on the 7th day of the 7th month, the pressure has been released.
But now, after 77 years and a whole lot of strawberries and cream, the pressure has been released. “I think now it will become easier,” Murray said. “I hope it will.”
Whatever will the British talk about next year?