Match point to Andy Murray. The sort of raucous atmosphere otherwise generated by AC/DC and AC Milan. The Poms were on the verge of their first Davis Cup victory since Fred Perry knocked over Australia's Jack Crawford at Wimbledon in 1936. Abused by Belgium supporters for three consecutive days in the Brussels suburb of Ghent, the confrontational Murray was up for it.
David Goffin served at 3-6 5-7 3-5 30-40. He slid one down the T. For the next 20 shots, Murray stretched wide, he inched forward, he retreated, he grunted and groaned, he went over the ball, he went under the ball, he was on the defensive until the last desperate backhand topspin lob. It was delivered with an exasperated ugh; it sailed over Goffin's head and landed a metre inside the baseline. It was a monumental point to crown a phenomenal achievement: Britain had failed to secure the Cup in the 79 years since Perry and Bunny Austin beat Crawford and Adrian Quist while wearing long white pants and sleeveless sweaters at SW19. 
"You know, I imagine it will take a few days before it really sinks in but I probably haven't been as emotional as that after a match that I've won," Murray said.
"I've been pretty upset having lost matches before but I'd say that's probably the most emotional I've been after a win. It's incredible that we managed to win this competition. I didn't know that would ever be possible." Murray draped the Union Jack across his back. He was lifted on to the shoulders of the teammates he carried all year. It was all very Chariots of Fire. Murray was 11-0 in Davis Cup rubbers for the year. He grabbed all three points in the final. His commitment was unwavering. His shotmaking against Goffin was off the charts. He glared at unruly Belgian spectators and gave them a mouthful. One of his full-stretch, running, near-impossible passing shots had his pregnant missus, the opinionated Kim Sears, leaping from her seat and hollering, "Oh my god! That's brilliant!" Match point was so monumental that it prompted its own statistical analysis. According to the back page of The Daily Mail, the speed of the shot was 60km/h. The distance of the shot was 25.4m. The height of the shot was 4.5m. The time the shot took to go from Murray's strings to the court was 1.56sec. It was a historic shot. An exquisite shot. A great shot from a great Scot. It was the shot that will send Murray flying into the Aust-ralian Open.
Because Davis Cup heroics light a fire in players. In 2000, Lleyton Hewitt's epic five-set win over Albert Costa in a feral Spanish stadium wasn't enough to get Australia over the line in the final. But the match of the 19-year-old Hewitt's life, to that point, immediately preceded his US Open breakthrough and rise to the world No 1 ranking. Pat Rafter came from two sets down to snatch an epic Cup clash with France's Cedric Pioline at White City in early 1997. Rafter won the next two US Opens and ended up with an unlikely one-week stay as the world No 1. The charged team atmosphere of a titanic Cup battle can fuel individual renaissances when the main tour resumes.
"The Australian Open is next," Murray said. "I've lost in the final four times. I play some of my best tennis when I'm playing for my country and I need to learn a few things about how I've handled this weekend. I will try to do that in Australia." Andrew Barron Murray's accomplishments have become historically heavy-duty. He was the first Brit to win Wimbledon in 77 years. He's landed the first Davis Cup since before World War II; since the year Edward VIII became king. The Daily Mail yesterday called for him to be knighted and nominated him as the greatest British athlete in history.
Murray has been less prolific at the majors than Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic because his head has done him in. He's lost six slam finals in consistent bursts of self-loathing and foul-mouthed frustrations.The pressure of the Davis Cup final had made him a basket case at the ATP World Tour Finals in London. He knew a Cup decider against a mediocre Belgium team was the opportunity of a lifetime. Just don't stuff it up. The pressure had him gibbering into his whispy little beard at the O2 Arena. He did a bizarre midnight training session after losing to Stan Wawrinka, hitting balls in an empty stadium before sitting in a plastic chair and staring at the court in a trance. Defeat at Ghent might have ruined him. Such a stirring success will spark a spirited visit to Melbourne Park in   January. The last Brit to win the Australian Open? Perry. Eighty-one years ago.