The moment everyone missed from Ash Barty’s Wimbledon win

Millions of Australians watched on as Ash Barty won the final of the ladies singles at Wimbledon in the early hours of Sunday morning but there’s one moment most people missed.

Social media and TV ratings prove what we already know. Basically the whole country stayed awake till 1am Sunday to witness Ash Barty win the final of the ladies singles at Wimbledon.

As she collapsed to her knees and covered her face in awe after winning the Championship point, the significance of the moment became apparent.

Not only did the proud Ngaragu woman from Ipswich, who “dared to dream”, win her maiden title but she did it 50 years after her hero, Evonne Goolagong Cawley, did the same thing. The fact it occurred during Naidoc Week, to one of the countries most likeable athletes, at a time when we need to feel united as Covid once again tears our life apart, well, made it feel like a plot from a film.

Ash Barty embraces her partner Garry Kissick following her Wimbledon win.

Her win against Czech Karolina Pliskova will go down as one of the great moments in Australian sport. You couldn’t have scripted a better ending.

But it’s not the moment I will remember most.

For me, the most powerful part of the Barty’s win came 30 minutes after she dropped her racquet. After the pomp and ceremony was over. After she’d been presented with the Venus Rosewater Dish from the Duchess of Cambridge and watched as her name was etched onto the winners board at the All England club. After officials took the famous silverware from her (winners get replicas) and she was left alone to walk back through the hallowed halls of the members section to return to her locker. When she was literally stripped bare of all the external trappings of being a Grand Slam champ.

The moment came then.

Ash Barty with coach Craig Tyzzer at the hotel after her win in the Wimbledon final.

Garry Kissick and Ash Barty at Wimbledon, a few days ahead of her big win.

When she spots her team, including coach Craig Tyzzer and partner Garry Kissick, waiting for her at the end of the hallway in front of the locker room.

Now, if this was a movie, lazy script writers would have Barty, champion of the world, perhaps slow motion run to her team and throw herself into their arms. There would be screams. There would be fist pumps. There would be a scene.

Which is exactly what didn’t happen.

Instead, Barty approaches the group, smiles and Tyzzer casually says, “Hey, How are ya?”

Then, after she’s leans into the arms of Kissick for a hug and a cry, the team, in a uniquely Australian way, joke about doing a full practice tomorrow.

Ash Barty with her parents Robert and Josie in mid-March 2021. Picture: Nic Morley

Look up the definition of humble and you would find this moment. It’s the most Barty-esque interaction ever.

But really, it shouldn’t come as surprise.

After all, this is the girl who, after winning the Junior Wimbledon title 10 years ago, forgoes the extravagant gala heads straight to the airport so she could celebrate with her friends and family at home.

This is a girl who, when she started to struggle with the loneliness of the tennis circuit, took time off to play cricket and be part of a team environment.

This is a girl who, whether she’s winning a trophy as a kid or winning Wimbledon, seems to be smiling just the same. Because it really is not about winning or losing, it’s how you play the game.

Ash Barty as a child tennis star.

Ash Barty and her manager Craig Tyzzer enjoying a beer following her win at the Miami Open.

The nation has fallen in love with Barty’s humility and here, in a small corner in one of the most famous sporting institutions in the world, it was on full display.

In recent interviews, the 25-year-old’s mindset coach Ben Crowe has explained that what makes Barty such a force to be reckoned with is that she doesn’t get her self worth from what she’s achieved.

After the match, Barty herself said, “I just try to live by my values … I mean, it’s more important to be a good person than a good tennis player. So I think that’s my priority, making sure I’m a good human being.”

Aussie athletes become heroes and role models in our society, whether they deserve it or not. But the reason I want my daughter and son to look up to Barty is not for what she’s achieved on the court (as remarkable as it is), but because she’s got her priorities sorted. In her mid twenties she’s already figured out what it takes others to a lifetime to learn, that the purpose of it all is really who we share it with.

In a world that’s obsessed with outcomes, someone that measures their success by who they are, rather than what they’ve done, is a champion.

And well, that’s worth staying up late for.