It was the summer of Omicron and, after two years of on-and-off lockdowns, no one was happy about it. To cap it off, blackfellas across the country were recovering from another Invasion Day, with protests held around the country against blak deaths in custody.

But at night, we had something to look forward to. Ash Barty was storming through the Australian Open and bringing a nation along with her. No one from this country had won the Open in more than four decades but that looked set to change.

A confession – at the time I wasn’t a big tennis fan per se, just a Barty fan. I was one small part of the “Barty party” and I was a relative latecomer, jumping on the bandwagon during her incredible 2021 Wimbledon win, exactly 50 years after her mentor, Wiradjuri woman and tennis great Evonne Goolagong Cawley, did the same.

And sure, part of the allure of the Barty party was the joy that came with rallying around an athlete at the prime of their career, winning title after title. Another drawcard was Barty’s delightful presence post match – calm, incredibly modest and quick to flash a cheeky grin.

But for mob, Barty’s pull was about much more than that. As a kid I had a bevy of blak sporting men to look up to, and would boast about my distant family connection to NRL great David Peachey. However, outside Cathy Freeman (my go-to idol) the culture at the time did not lionise blak sportswomen in the same way.

That summer, things were different. Barty was reigning world no 1, competing on home soil. Everyone knew her name, everyone knew she was proud of her Ngarigo heritage – claims of cousin-hood were multiplying by the minute.

The night of the final, Barty squared off against American Danielle Collins. It would not only prove to be an incredible match (with record-breaking TV ratings making it one of the most popular sporting moments of the last two decades) but a defining moment for blak women in sport.

After Barty beat Collins in straight sets, she was in for a surprise.

Goolagong Cawley had been unwell and before the tournament she told Barty she was unable to attend. But after a last minute change of heart, a cloak-and-dagger plan was hatched to get her to Melbourne and into the arena without anyone knowing the wiser.

“We have a special guest to present the finalist trophy” said the announcer, and Goolagong Cawley emerged on the court to an uproar. Barty broke into a million-watt grin, bending over in shock.

As if one magical aunty arrival was not enough, the broadcast then cut to Cathy Freeman in the crowd, who, in true proud aunty fashion, was taking pictures on her phone. She wasn’t a mere onlooker but also go-to pillar of support for Barty.

“Cathy’s incredible. I remember it was only a couple years ago after a semi-final loss I was on the phone to Cathy in tears and just chatting to her about her experiences,” said Barty at the time.

For me, and for many others, this moment was nearly too much to bear. To see these three beloved faces back to back, to see three blak women showing up to celebrate each other – it was a triple hit of serotonin. Watching from home and struggling to find words, I merely tweeted each of their names, using a deranged amount of exclamation marks. To date it’s one of my most popular tweets.

“Sometimes you have to stop and say I’m witnessing history right now,” said Emma Kemp, reporting courtside for Guardian Australia.

“I really made a point of stopping for a couple of minutes and just soaking it all in because … I think it’s going to be one of those sporting moments that goes down in history, much in the same way that Cathy Freeman’s 2000 Olympics was,” she told the Full Story podcast.

Later Barty spoke (in her usual modest way) about being part of this moment and this legacy.

“I am certainly not at their level,” she said. “Cathy and Evonne are exceptional people, exceptional athletes and they have paved the path for so many of us. I am still in the category of trying to follow in their footsteps and be the best that I can.”

Just a few months after the 2022 Australian Open the Barty party came to a sudden and unexpected halt, with the announcement of her retirement from tennis at the age of 25. Barty was “spent”.

“I have given absolutely everything I can to this beautiful sport of tennis,” she said.

In a time where athletes such as Naomi Osaka and Simone Biles were taking leave from competition in recognition of its gruelling physical and mental impact, Barty’s decision could only be applauded.

I’m just glad she gave us what she could. I’m glad she gave us that myth-making night – full of surprises, celebration, and blak joy.