WIMBLEDON: Andy Murray’s Win Took Forever, Will Last Forever

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REPORTING FROM THE ALL ENGLAND CLUB IN WIMBLEDON

This one is forever. For Andy Murray. For Britain. It took forever.

It lasts forever.

Andy Murray is the Wimbledon champion. How many times has he heard that in his head over the years? How old was he the first time? How many times has he told himself he’d never get there? He beat Novak Djokovic 6-4, 7-5, 6-4 Sunday, and is the first Brit to win Wimbledon since Fred Perry in 1936.

Understand that for the Brits, this is like the Boston Red Sox finally winning the World Series. It would be like the Chicago Cubs … well, let’s be serious.

Sometimes, it seems impossible breaking forever, making forever.

“I think I persevered,’’ Murray said. “That’s really been it, the story of my career probably.’’

We’ve seen this journey for years, Murray’s and the Brits’ together.

Please read the rest of the column here

About gregcouch

I can talk tennis all day long, and often do. And yet some of the people I talk to about it might rather I talk about something else. Or with someone else. That’s how it is with tennis, right? Sort of an addiction. Sort of a high. I am a national columnist at FoxSports.com and a FoxSports1 TV insider, and have been a columnist at the Chicago Sun-Times. In 2010, I was the only American sports writer to cover the full two weeks of all four majors, and also to cover each of the U.S. Masters series events. I’ve seen a lot of tennis, talked with a lot of players, coaches, agents. I watched from a few rows behind the line judge as Serena rolled her foot onto the baseline for the footfault, a good call, at the 2009 U.S. Open. I sat forever watching a John Isner marathon, leaving for Wimbledon village to watch an England World Cup soccer game at a pub and then returning for hours of Isner, sitting a few feet from his wrecked coach. I got to see Novak Djokovic and Robin Soderling joke around on a practice court on the middle Sunday at Wimbledon, placing a small wager on a tiebreaker. Djokovic won, and Soderling pulled a bill out of his wallet, crumpled it into his fist and threw it at Djokovic, who unwadded it, kissed it, and told me, “My work is done here.’’ And when Rafael Nadal won the French Open in 2010, I finished my column, walked back out onto the court, and filled an empty tic tac container with the red clay. I’m looking at it right now. Well, I don’t always see the game the same way others do. I can be hard on tennis, particularly on the characters in suits running it. Tennis has no less scandal and dirt than any other game. Yet somehow, it seems to be covered up, usually from an incredible web of conflicts of interest. I promise to always tell the truth as I see it. Of course, I would appreciate it if you’d let me know when I’m wrong. I love sports arguments and hope to be in a few of them with you here. Personal info: One-handed backhand, serve-and-volleyer. View all posts by gregcouch

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