Andy Murray must crush Wimbledon history as well as Novak Djokovic | Kevin Mitchell

Andy Murray with fans after a Court 15 practice session on the eve of the Wimbledon men's singles final. Photograph: Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images

Whether or not Andy Murray can break through the next level of shackles the nation has wrapped around his psyche – the 77-year wait for a Wimbledon men's champion – his final against Novak Djokovic on Sunday will almost certainly be an ordeal. We will love it. The winner will too. For the loser, the pain will be considerable, to heart and body.

The odds are overwhelmingly that this final will be similar to each of their past three battles for a grand slam title. In all four of their big clashes – the first was a relative blitz in three sets in Melbourne two years ago – they have spent nearly a thousand minutes across the net from each other, but the others, again for the Australian title in 2012 and this year, as well as the US Open last September, were the most brutal examinations of their commitment to the demands of the modern game.

Tennis did not used to be like this. It was always tough, often pretty, but never demanded that the combatants give so much to the cause. There were limits. No longer.

Djokovic's semi-final win in five sets over Juan Martín del Potro on Friday was the most graphic demonstration of that verity. It was not only the longest semi-final in the history of the tournament, it was one of the best. The level of tennis hit such a consistency of excellence that Boris Becker – previous owner of the longevity record with Andy Murray's coach Ivan Lendl – was moved to remark, "Can it get any better than this?"

The answer is: probably. It is astonishing what the best players in the world have given us in recent years, finals of such draining intensity it is tiring just watching them and there seems to be no avoiding these climaxes of quite terrible beauty.

But it is what they sign up for from a young age. Murray and Djokovic first played each other at a youth tournament in France when they were 11 years of age. Murray won. Djokovic said on Saturday (as he has said before) what he remembers most about Murray then is his curly hair. He has put considerably more relevant information into his Andy Murray file since then, as has the Scot.

As with Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, they have established such a long-running rivalry that there is little about each other's game they do not know. They no doubt recognise tics and twitches, like two gunslingers eyeing up each other and squinting for the merest advantage in time and anticipation.

As ever, especially on grass, those reaction times against big serves will determine the early tone and the result of their 19th contest. And the prize is the same. Djokovic says he had dreamt of winning Wimbledon since he was a small boy. Murray, also, has had that dream – with the attendant nightmare of a nation's expectations. He has tried hard to ignore that burden but it is difficult to believe it is not lurking in a small part of his brain.

"Any tennis player, that is the goal that you have," he said on Saturday after his final workout on Court 15, the place he has been going to for each of his eight campaigns here. "You want to try to win Wimbledon and the closer you get to it the more you are obviously going to think about it. But the most important thing is that you aren't looking [too far] ahead.

"At no stage of the match can you get too ahead of yourself. Against most players that is dangerous, against someone like Novak that is even more dangerous, because he is extremely fit and doesn't give anything away. I am going to need to earn every point."

Even the language that Murray uses is that of suffering: the "need to earn", the obligation to live up to the demands of his sport, to put it on the line. Nothing will come easy for either of them on Sunday afternoon.

As for the expectation of others, they will not go away. Can Djokovic win his second Wimbledon, or will Murray win his first? Will this be another defining match in the game's new rivalry? These are the questions people will be thinking, even if for the participants such considerations are secondary to the job in hand. That is how professionals talk and prepare.

They cannot afford to be distracted by history or statistics. So here are some numbers for them to ignore: 1,600,000 for a start, the prize in sterling for the champion, twice as much as for the loser, which is the way it should be – and all part of a quite staggering increase in overall prize money of 49%.

There a few other digits that matter: the No1 ranking will stay with Djokovic, whatever the result, and Murray will stay at No2. The last time the world's two best players were in this final was two years ago, when Djokovic beat Nadal – and how unceremoniously did the Spaniard leave us this time, bombed out on the first day, followed quickly by Federer. Times are shifting rapidly.

So what of their form here? Djokovic, it has to be said, has looked slightly stronger overall. Murray has had more anxious moments but they have both found a way through. When they dragged themselves away to their respective ice baths on Friday, Murray had racked up 14 hours and 51 minutes of court time, Djokovic 25 minutes fewer. That's only about an hour longer than they spent beating each other up in their last three grand slam finals.

But will their only grasscourt match – Murray's win at Wimbledon in the semi-finals of the London Olympics a year ago – be an X factor in the equation, a key to the result?

"I don't know how many times I have played him," Murray said, "about 12 times? [18, with the Serb up 11-7] and we have played so many points, so many close sets, so many long rallies. I don't know whether it is a match, or a few points or just years of information gathered against each other, I don't know exactly what it will be that makes the difference.

"But, having played against him and won against him on grass will help me. I know what worked against him at the Olympics and hopefully some of those things will work again."

So, alongside struggle there is hope. We had better prepare for another mighty collision of wills.

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Andy Murray v Novak Djokovic: a Wimbledon showdown to savour | Observer editorial

Change of service: Wimbledon delivered a string of surprises this year. Photograph: Tom Jenkins

For all its grace and gentility, the annual spectacle of Wimbledon is about the closest we come on our sofas to what students of the higher primates call a "dominance hierarchy". Such a hierarchy involves the continuous head-to-head confrontation between members of a social group to establish a ranking order of prowess and strength and, ultimately, to establish the alpha male. In less evolved species, such contests are explicitly linked to mating rights, which, of course, have no place at all in our subconscious fascination with the green theatre of Centre Court (cut here to intimate close-up reaction of girlfriend to that last impossible backhand down the line).

Just occasionally in all such dominance hierarchies, an unforeseen shift occurs overnight, and all that seemed stable suddenly looks thrillingly provisional. This year's Wimbledon has been so fascinating because it has dramatised exactly such a shift. The surprising frailty of the old order of Federer and (wounded) Nadal – and in the women's draw Sharapova and Serena – has been unceremoniously exposed, and new fearless pretenders have emerged: the indomitable Marion Bartoli, the alarming roaring Pole, Jerzy Janowicz, and Juan Martín del Potro, testing every detail of the world No 1's mettle in nearly five hours of brutal and mesmerising combat.

That Andy Murray should have emerged from this wildly uncertain fortnight to face Novak Djokovic once again says pretty much everything you need to know about him as a competitor. We hesitate to suggest that Murray's time to top the dominance hierarchy – and lift that golden trophy – is overdue. Djokovic is too athletic and adamantine an opponent for that. But we take heart from the fact that Murray seems to have the knack of finding ways to prevail from unpromising ones. Whatever the outcome, we are guaranteed a very long afternoon in the summer sun, and one that will no doubt echo to that familiar guttural primal scream: "C'MON ANDY!"

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Rewind radio: Wimbledon; Living in the Memory Room; Shaun Keaveny

'Compelling soundscape': Andy Murray in action at Wimbledon last week. Photograph: Dennis Grombkowski/Getty Images

Wimbledon (5 Live) | iPlayer
Living in the Memory Room (R4) | iPlayer
Shaun Keaveny (6 Music) | iPlayer

Sometimes, when I'm lost while driving in an unfamiliar town, I will do the sensible thing and stop to ask for directions. A passerby will attempt to set me back on the right course. But as soon as they start speaking, something in my head completely disengages. I switch off and forget to listen and, by the end of it, am no clearer on my geographical location than before.

It's a similar experience trying to listen to live Wimbledon tennis on the radio. It's not the fault of the BBC Radio 5 Live commentators, all of whom possess a preternatural talent for speaking almost as fast as Jerzy Janowicz's first serve (140mph, in case you're wondering). The failing is altogether a personal one. I simply can't visualise the shots being described. Even when I write it down it doesn't make sense. Take this, from Jonathan Overend's commentary on Andy Murray's quarter-final victory over Fernando Verdasco: "Forehand return from Verdasco, on to the baseline, backhand from Murray, forehand Verdasco on to the backhand side of Murray, Verdasco is down the line with the forehand, now the backhand is going on to the baseline again... no, it's off... "

And yet, even though my mind invariably ends up wandering, the Wimbledon soundscape is deeply compelling. Listening to the grunts and thwacks, the cheers and sighs, the light smatterings of applause when a rally is played well and the shouts of self-loathing when a player misses their shot, is an immersive and atmospheric experience that you don't get on television. Still don't have a clue what's going on though.

Sound – or rather the remembrance of it – was similarly evocative for Kim Normanton's mother. Living in the Memory Room was a touching half-hour programme for Radio 4 in which Normanton spoke about her mother's worsening dementia and how the use of certain objects from the past could trigger flashes of complete coherence.

There was a lovely bit when Normanton brought in a pair of lacy pantaloons to show her mother, who immediately recalled racy Auntie Sissy wearing them when she was trying to be posh. Normanton later travelled to Hogewey dementia village in the Netherlands, a community that recreates the surroundings of the residents' youth with old-fashioned furniture and a supermarket selling the sweets of their childhood. Normanton, while sympathetic to the approach, asked Hogewey's director about the morality of perpetuating what was essentially a complicated lie.

"Sometimes you lie because you help people," came the reply.

What I liked most about Living in the Memory Room was its lack of sentimentality. Normanton was a likable and straightforward presenter, always aware of the need to make a general point from a personal experience. Those brief, intimate moments when her mother surfaced from the depths were all the more moving as a result.

Among the objects Normanton brought in to show her mother were wooden clothes pegs of the kind she remembered her using in years gone by. Clothes pegs were also, bizarrely, on the mind of a listener who called Shaun Keaveny's BBC Radio 6 Music breakfast show on Tuesday. "Will you tell my wife to put the clothes pegs back in the bag after she's done the washing," said Keaveny, reading out the message. "It drives me mad."

His guest that day was comedian Russell Brand, who had recently appeared on the American talkshow Morning Joe – an encounter that became a viral hit after the hilariously ill-informed presenters spoke derisively about Brand's clothes and talked about him as if he wasn't there.

As a result Keaveny seemed at pains to demonstrate his own intellect, throwing in a polysyllable here and there and talking about "dissemination". Brand did his best to lighten the tone. Much of it became an interview about another interview, which was very meta, and all I could think about was those errant clothes pegs. I hope they've been put away neatly. If so, this could be a whole new take on public service broadcasting.

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Cyclops: a one-eyed look at Wimbledon

Andy Murray – made of Lego in a Dunblane toy shop. They’ve really nailed the trademark beard, hat and glasses. Photograph: Danny Lawson/PA

Marion Bartoli's Pat Cash climb to the players' box – driven by the shock of winning £1.6m in 81 minutes.

Hitting partner Thomas Drouet told Wimbledon.com pre-match how Bartoli had taken another last-minute power-nap before the final, as she did before the semis. "She does as she feels, if she feels like sleeping, she sleeps." Dad Walter: "She had this serenity. It's impressive."

Why all the snoozing? Bartoli's declared IQ of 175 famously ranks her above Plato and Einstein, obliging plenty of down-time. She doesn't like to talk about it. "I'm kind of hiding it, trying not to be with a huge head. But that's how I am, you know. That's how I was born."

Mike Bryan, on how he and brother Bob managed to win the men's doubles and hold all four grand slams and the Olympic title at the same time: "I feel like we're hitting our peak."

Roman Zoltowski, 75, Wimbledon's official trophy engraver since 1979 – who drives to the tournament each year from his home in Poznan because airlines consider his tools offensive weapons. "Sunday is stressful," he says. "But it is the highlight of my year. I'm not ready to retire and wear slippers yet."

It is 77 years since a British man won Wimbledon. Sunday's final takes place on 7/7. And for added proof that there is something in the air: Virginia Wade won her title in '77.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship – No1 in May 1987 when both Murray (15th) and Djokovic (22nd) were born.

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Barty and Dellacqua lose in Wimbledon women's doubles final

Ashleigh Barty, left, and Casey Dellacqua pose with their trophies after the women's doubles final. Photograph: Anja Niedringhaus/AP

Australians Ashleigh Barty and Casey Dellacqua missed another chance to secure a first grand slam women's doubles title, losing in the final at Wimbledon.

The 13th seeds fell 7-6 (7-1), 6-1 to the eighth-seeded combination of Taiwan's Su-Wei Hsieh and China's Shuai Peng on Saturday.

Barty and Dellacqua, in just their fourth WTA tournament together, were bidding to become the first all-Australian duo in 35 years to win the women's doubles at the All England Club.

The pair also lost the final at the Australian Open in January.

The Australians started brightly on Centre Court and had a set point on serve up 5-4.

However Hsieh and Peng fought back to claim the first set in a tiebreaker.

The Asian duo carried the momentum into the second set and raced to a first grand slam doubles title.

It was Barty and Dellacqua first defeat on grass in 10 matches, having claimed their maiden WTA doubles title in Birmingham earlier this month.

Both players failed to secure spots in the singles draw at Wimbledon, with 17-year-old Barty a surprise first-round loser in qualifying after winning her first grand slam singles match at the French Open last month.

However she bounced back strongly from the disappointment, also reaching the quarter-finals of the mixed doubles event alongside compatriot John Peers.

The last all-Australian women's duo to win the Wimbledon title was Wendy Turnbull and Kerry Melville Reid in 1978.

Promising Australian juniors Nick Kyrgios and Thanasi Kokkinakis reached Sunday's boys doubles final and will face Enzo Couacaud and Stefano Napolitano.

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Wimbledon Women's Final: As one smile fades, the crowd hails an eccentric new champion

Marion Bartoli hoists the championship trophy as she celebrates her victory over Sabine Lisicki. Photograph: Kerim Okten/EPA

One of the defining features of Wimbledon 2013 had been Sabine Lisicki's smile. But the final of the women's singles on Saturday will be remembered for her tears. They started during the second set, temporarily abated during a brief comeback, and then flowed unstoppably at the end as she was overwhelmed 6-1, 6-4 by France's Marion Bartoli.

On a brutally hot afternoon at Wimbledon – not a sentence one has to write too often – it was a strange, anticlimactic end to two weeks of a women's competition that has thrown up surprises, controversy and consistently excellent tennis. The 28-year-old Bartoli won her first major title in her 47th grand slam appearance, breaking the record for late development.

Lisicki may have been the crowd favourite, but Bartoli is an eccentric and popular champion. Her family hails from Corsica, and she looks like a tennis player created by Asterix's Goscinny and Uderzo. She is a frenzy of compulsive tics on the court and an endearing oddball off it. She has an IQ score of 175, higher than Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking.

The match-up against Lisicki, a grass-court specialist who is mildly allergic to grass, appeared to be an intriguing one. But the 23-year-old German – known as "Boom Boom Bina" for her aggressive, uncompromising playing style – appeared to melt under the heat and the pressure. "Boom" rather quickly turned to "Bust". Nevertheless, the presence of two wild outsiders in the Wimbledon final – Bartoli was seeded 15, Lisicki 23 – is a welcome reminder of the depth of talent in women's tennis. In the previous 15 months, all the major prizes in the sport had been claimed by three players: Serena Williams, Maria Sharapova and Victoria Azarenka. Williams, in particular, had been so dominant that opponents were said to start matches against her aiming not to lose 6-0, 6-0: a game-within-a-game called "bagel avoidance".

Wimbledon turned all the form on its head. Sharapova lost to a 5ft 5in, 20-year-old Portuguese qualifier called Michelle Larcher de Brito. Azarenka pulled out minutes before the start of the second round with an injury. Williams was brought crashing down by Lisicki in three electric sets.

Bartoli collected prize money of £1.6m, the same as Andy Murray and Novak Djokovic are playing for on Sunday. Today's female stars clearly owe a debt to Billie Jean King, who brought the top female players together and founded the Women's Tennis Association in 1973. At that time, women received a fraction of the rewards of their male counterparts: in 1968, for example, King won £750 for winning Wimbledon, while Rod Laver received £2,000. Full parity was not achieved until 2007.

Last Sunday, to celebrate 40 years of the WTA, 17 former world number ones came together for an event at Wimbledon called 40 Love. Several of them – including King, Martina Navratilova, Martina Hingis – returned to the royal box on Saturday.

It is a testament to the quality of the tennis that equal pay has not been an issue during the Wimbledon fortnight. The match between Lisicki and Williams was an instant classic, while Lisicki's semi-final against Agnieszka Radwanska, which ended 9-7 in the third set, was even better. It was a crushing disappointment that she could not summon any of that form in the final. "I think I was overwhelmed by the whole situation," said Lisicki afterwards.

A further sign of the health of the women's game is that the debate has shifted on to whether men should play the best of three sets, instead of women playing five. "It's really becoming so taxing that I believe one day we will have two out of three sets in the grand slams," said Navratilova recently. "Otherwise they're going to be taking people out on stretchers."

Early on in the tournament, there was a minor kerfuffle when Andy Murray challenged Serena Williams to a match in Las Vegas – a throwback to King's "Battle of the Sexes" contest against Bobby Riggs in 1973. Williams seemed hesitant when the subject was brought up: "I doubt I'd win a point, but that would be fun," she replied unconvincingly.

No one was in any doubt that this match was unlikely to happen any time soon. Women's tennis does not need the publicity or the validation these days.

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