A Decade On: How 2016's Golden Wimbledon Weekend Transformed British Tennis

July 2016 was a peculiar moment in British life. The country had just voted to leave the European Union. Leicester City had won the Premier League against all odds. England held the Ashes. And on the grass courts of Wimbledon, something remarkable was happening: British tennis was winning everything.

Five trophies. That was the haul that weekend—a record for home players at the All England Club. The first came on Court 17, a modest outside court with 276 seats, where Gordon Reid faced Sweden's Stefan Olsson in the inaugural wheelchair singles final. Reid had barely slept the night before, forced to change hotels because of a party next door, but he won 6-1, 6-4, and his friends and family celebrated by drenching him in champagne as he walked to the media centre. Within hours, Jordanne Whiley and Yui Kamiji won the women's wheelchair doubles, their third consecutive Wimbledon title together. The momentum was building.

Then came Andy Murray on Centre Court. By that point in his career, Murray had grown accustomed to losing Grand Slam finals to Federer, Djokovic, and Nadal. But 2016 was different. Federer had been upset in the semi-finals by Milos Raonic. Djokovic had crashed out in the third round. Nadal was injured and absent. Murray, meanwhile, had dropped only two sets on his way to the final and was playing the best tennis of his life. He had won Queen's and the Italian Open that spring, and he carried the weight of history—his 2013 Wimbledon victory had ended a British men's drought stretching back more than seven decades. Now he was chasing a second title. When Lewis Hamilton won the British Grand Prix at Silverstone that same afternoon, the national mood was almost surreal. Murray won 6-4, 7-6, 7-6, his forehand approach shot drawing a netted passing shot from Raonic on the decisive point. He cried into his towel repeatedly, hugged the trophy so hard he looked unwilling to release it even in the ice bath afterward. His coach Ivan Lendl, usually impassive, had tears streaming down his face.

In the on-court interview, Sue Barker asked if he felt good. "Er, yeah," Murray replied—possibly the understatement of his life. When he acknowledged Prime Minister David Cameron in the Royal Box, the crowd booed; Cameron had announced his resignation just weeks earlier in the wake of the Brexit vote. Murray defused the moment with characteristic wit, saying he wouldn't want Cameron's job because "it's a tough job." He then stepped onto the pavilion balcony to show the trophy to thousands of fans below, signing autographs and posing for selfies.

Heather Watson was watching Murray's match on television screens in the locker room, preparing for her own final. She remembers waking that morning with absolute certainty: "I thought, 'Well, today's the day I win Wimbledon'. Like, there was no doubt in my mind." Partnered with Finland's Henri Kontinen, she won the mixed doubles, becoming the first British woman to claim a Grand Slam title since Jo Durie in 1991. It was the fifth trophy of the weekend and the first time since 1937 that British players had won two of Wimbledon's five traditional trophies.

The celebrations that night were legendary. The Wimbledon Ball became a blur of champagne and dancing. Murray, who had said beforehand he wouldn't dance with the women's champion unless he'd had several drinks, apparently did exactly that—Watson remembers him dancing with Serena Williams, and Murray later revealed he was sick in a taxi on the way home. Alfie Hewett, eighteen at the time, brought his grandfather and marveled at the fancy red carpet. Gordon Reid shared a cool moment with Murray, who sought him out to congratulate him and invite him to the after-party, though their paths got lost in the chaos of departing cars. Watson and Murray partied until 7 a.m., at which point her Finnish doubles partner had to leave for an early flight. "I didn't even realise the time because I was having that much of a good time," she said.

A decade later, the ripples from that golden weekend are still reshaping British tennis. Murray went on to win five more titles that year, including the ATP Finals, which secured the world number one ranking. He never added another Grand Slam—a hip injury in 2017 required major surgery and ultimately ended his chances despite seven more years of valiant effort. But the template he set endured. In 2016, three British men ranked in the top 200; now there are eight. Emma Raducanu ended a 44-year wait for a female Grand Slam singles champion with her 2021 US Open victory. The doubles game exploded: in the decade before 2016, British players won only two Grand Slam doubles titles; in the decade after, they won twenty. Grassroots participation surged to 5.8 million adults and four million children playing annually. The LTA invested £250 million in refurbishing public courts, adding covered and floodlit facilities, and making booking easier. Wheelchair tennis evolved from a Court 17 curiosity to a Court One showpiece drawing thousands. Even in retirement for the past two years, Murray's influence persists—he coaches Jack Draper, plays golf with rising players like Jack Pinnington Jones, and offers informal mentorship. This year, 21 British players are competing in the main singles draws at Wimbledon, including three who qualified for the first time since 1999. The question now is what that depth will produce.