The Roman Amphitheatre in Queens - Gladiator

Andy Murray holding the US Open Men's Singles Trophy last night in New York.

Watching Novak Djokovic play in solid blue shorts and shirt, matching his demeanor in this fifth set, I am trying to imagine what Andy Murray is experiencing on the blue New York court where true champions, or shall I say gladiators, survive.

Forget that Andy is the first Briton to win a Grand Slam title since 1936. Forget that he won Olympic Gold earlier in the summer. Andy has been at the door beckoning for a Grand Slam title just as golfer Phil Mickelson waited long and hard for his first title. It becomes a gladiatorial battle within one's self to achieve survival and victory.

I doubt Andy is thinking about Fred Perry and the last Briton winning the US Open at Forest Hills over 7 decades ago. Murray is thinking about each and every point and how he can win it. He says, after the match, he was thinking how he "can get through this match" as a victor. 

Fred Perry with the only grip of the day: Continental

Tennis is broken down to the minutiae of each point, each stroke, each tape-touching ball. We look to Chase Review for the slightest one-hundredth of an inch that the naked eye of a lines-person can't discern...for the final say on a Murray serve in the final game that catches the very corner of the ad court's srvice box.

The swords of each gladiator bear the logo of a world-wide brand, Head. And yet, surely,  tennis is really a mental game aimed at the head of your opponent when there is so little to differentiate a forehand, backhand, or serve between these two players.

Murray serves the 6th game with ease, putting the pressure on Djokovic in the crucial 7th game. In the heat of the 5th hour, this truly remarkable sporting achievement must be something worthy of Nero and the Roman Empire. And Djokovic, starting to suffer physically under the watchful eyes of those in the Coliseum in Queens, loses the game easily leaving Murray to close out the match on serve.

It's over and Murray looks as if he doesn't know what to do with no further play necessary. Since childhood Murray has been pretending, creating and replaying this moment and this scenario in his head. His mind's eye has him hitting a winner, but in reality it's an unforced error by Djokovic. However, in his time working toward this sole objective, there has always been another point, another match, another ball to be struck.

But before the crowd's applause, there is that moment of silence after the last bounce. A stillness.

There are no more points to be played. Survival, success, and victory are odd when finally they are achieved. How strange is it that they leave us all, in sport and in life, a bit bewildered and in awe of ourselves and, perhaps, a bit empty inside.