Serena finds an orbit all of her own

This is a weekend Serena Williams is not likely to put out of her mind for a long time. Yesterday she was crowned Wimbledon champion and tomorrow she will ascend to No 1 in the world. The player she deposed on both counts was her older sister, Venus, who forfeited the Wimbledon title she had held for the past two years. Serena won 7-6 6-3 in an hour and 18 minutes. She won worthily and without any hint, as there has been on previous occasions when the two have met, of any form of collusion or connivance about the outcome.

Venus was, by her demanding standards, poor. Serena, who has sailed through the fortnight without dropping a set, was, in a favourite word of her American compatriots, awesome. The standard of tennis was, as you might expect of the world's best two women, on another plane altogether when they got it together. When they didn't, because of the level they were playing at, the errors appeared trite. There were 22 unforced ones from Serena, 25 from Venus.

Serena has established herself over the past 12 months, ever since Venus was crowned on Centre Court in July 2001, as the best woman on a tennis court; 52 matches won, four lost. Seven titles, including the Grand Slams of France and Wimbledon in succession, emulating Steffi Graf in 1996. This was the third time in the last four Slams the sisters had contested the title; Venus was the winner last September at the US Open.

They were the first all-sister finals at a major championship since Maud Watson defeated her sister Lilian 6-8 6-3 6-3 at the inaugural women's singles in the 1884 Wimbledon. Yesterday the three British women who have won here since the Second World War, Angela Mortimer-Barrett (1961), Ann Jones (1969) and Virginia Wade (1977) were in the Royal Box as witnesses of history but, alas, neither Watson is around from when long skirts, corsets and hats were the accepted attire.

Yesterday at 2pm precisely, as the tournament decrees, the Williams sisters walked out, turned and curtsied towards Princess Alexandra and prepared to do battle on a still, overcast afternoon. Venus's all-white outfit was topped by a golf-type visor cap, the sort favoured by Helen Wills Moody, eight times the champion here between the wars.

As they warmed up we disposed of the waggism which attends all the Williamses' clashes: "C'mon Williams" was the cry, raising the usual laugh. Both women started as if it was a 5,000 metre chase rather than a sprint; serves fell well below the 100mph mark. Then they settled to it. After Venus held comfortably in the opening game, Serena overcame a double-fault to level the scores with a crunching forehand.

Venus, clearly less comfortable, dropped serve at once, double-faulting and then driving backhand and forehand shots beyond the baseline. There was muttering as Serena immediately surrendered her own delivery, with a backhand into the net and a wild double-fault. Was it a fix after all? Not by the look of Serena, who delivered a vigorous chat to herself and showed who was going to be boss on this day by breaking Venus again next game.

The exchanges tended to be brief, and frequently brutal, but the sixth game produced an exquisite 17-shot rally of all that is best in the women's game, terminated by a violent Serena smash. Then came a backhand arrowed down the line, lifted from the textbook of the game's greatest shots.

So, on the strength of two service breaks to one, Serena stepped up to serve for the first set at 5-4 and got within two points of it on another explosive backhand. "Hit it a bit harder next time," jested a spectator. Instead, Venus struck the meaningful blows, winning four successive points to level at 5-5. To dispel any thoughts of a sisterly deal, Serena very publicly and very angrily bounced her racket hard on the turf.

An exchange of love games moved the set into a tie-break, where Serena's power was the deciding factor. A forehand into the deepest corner achieved a mini-break for a 3-1 lead which she extended to 5-3 with another of those double-fisted backhand specials. A net cord left her holding three set points, only one of which was squandered before Serena uncorked her third ace of the set to win by seven points to four.

Looking thoroughly miserable, Venus struggled from the outset in the second set. Two more double-faults presented Serena with double break-point, and here there was at least a suspicion of a sisterly foot off the pedal, if only slightly, as loose play from Serena permitted Venus to scramble clear of trouble.

Venus was again two points away from dropping serve at 1-2. Once more Serena failed, or opted not to press her case with vigour. But there was no salvation for the defending champion, who self-destructed when she was required to serve again, her fifth double-fault taking Serena to break point, to be followed by a forehand error from Venus.

Serena opened the door obligingly by dropping her own serve, to more audience muttering, with an amateurishly hooked forehand and a netted backhand. But at once Venus handed back the initiative, meekly dropping serve for the fourth – and last – time with another double-fault.

Now it was time for Serena to serve herself into history. She took a deep breath but needed to contribute just one service winner in a game in which Venus unerringly missed the court on every shot. So, after 20 straight singles wins at Wimbledon, 22-year-old Venus Williams had ceded the crown to 20-year-old Serena. Venus had played poorly, and she knew it. There was a congratulatory arm round her sister's neck at the end, but no kiss was proffered.

And that deep breath from Serena? "I said 'Hey, it's now or never because I am playing the two-time Wimbledon champion'." Now she can breathe easily, with her winner's cheque for £437,630 and a trophy which will be moved from one shelf to another in the same household.