I didn't manage to see much of Andy Murray's amazing match at Wimbledon on Monday, but from what I did see there is no doubt that it was one of the great sporting occasions of our times.

For most of the evening I was in the House of Commons chamber as we debated our plans for a new independent authority to oversee MPs' expenses and allowances.

So we were oblivious to the drama unfolding under the lights on Centre Court – although even after our debate had finished the match was still going on. It must have been the first time in history that has happened.

I think it would be stretching the point to say that Monday threw up a new tennis hero – we've known about Andy Murray's potential for some time (though in all fairness to his opponent, Stanislas Wawrinka, I'm told that such was his contribution to the match that he should be regarded as more than a supporting act in the drama).

But despite all we already knew about Murray I do think this took him into a new chapter – a prime time TV audience of 12.6m, with EastEnders shovelled on to BBC2 (highly paid BBC executives get some things right it seems) and the Ten O Clock News held up – and seals Murray's place in the UK's hall of sporting heroism. He’ll have thousands of new fans and the raw emotion he showed at the end of the game will help to rid him of the criticism that he is sometimes too dour.

And from what I've seen since of some of his remarkable play, he will be a major sporting figure in British life for years to come.

But if Murray's star is set firmly in our minds after Monday, the other momentous thing about the match was the birth of a new sporting icon – the Wimbledon roof and floodlights.

Sport at its best is pure theatre. The twists and turns, the way it affects our senses – the sweaty palms and stomach flutters as nerves kick in and the sheer ecstasy (or sometimes despair) at the final conclusion. There is nothing like it.

And then there is the atmosphere. Without a crowd, sport becomes like watching TV with the sound turned off. The fans on centre court and Henman hill (is it now Murray’s mound?) outside, created such a sense of nail-biting tension and excitement that it seemed to leap out of the TV screen into our living rooms (or Commons offices).

And the backdrop to the event can also make all the difference.

Murray's game would have been riveting whenever it was played. But under lights with the roof closed and the rest of Wimbledon shrouded in darkness the scene seemed to raise the drama a notch.