Heaven and hell on The Hill

Henman Hill became Heart Attack Hill at Wimbledon yesterday afternoon as Tim Henman once more put his legion of fans through the emotional wringer in his match against South African Wayne Ferreira. Despite edging the first set on a tie-break, Henman lost the second set, and only took the third set on another, controversial tie-break in which the umpire's overrule swung the set Henman's way. As Henman attempted to charge through the fourth set, his fans on The Hill were left checking how much hair they had torn out over nearly three hours of torment.

The early birds had encamped immediately after the gates had opened at 10.30am, and they quickly perched on the dozen or so tables and chairs which had been laid out on Henman Hill – formerly known as Rusedski Ridge on Friday. By 12.30pm, not a blade of grass or a concrete step was left uncovered by human flesh, much of it decorated by Henmemorabilia, from tennis-ball earrings to sloganised T-shirts. The Hill has become the place where Henman's version of the "barmy army" pay homage to their field marshal, as he appears on a 50-feet by 40-feet television screen.

It was estimated that up to 5,000 fans had taken their places on The Hill, on the north side of Court No 1, to cheer Henman on into the last 16. They flocked to the Pimm's tent and the ice-cream bar that stand on one side of The Hill, and waited for their icon to appear. But first the giant remote control appeared to have been mislaid as a match between two junior girls was being relayed.

Soon the screen switched to Centre Court, where the sport and showbiz stars in the Royal Box were invited to take a bow. The first Saturday has become a mini "people's day" with celebrities installed in the Royal Box rather than the usual mixture of foreign ambassadors and assorted Kents.

Sir Bobby Robson and Martin Keown got a cheer from The Hill, but there was a clucking of disapproval when a shot of television game-show host Angus Deayton appeared. Henman Hill clearly likes its heroes to be spotlessly clean. And then He appeared from the locker-room and a cheer rippled across the packed terrace, mingled with shouts of "Come on Tim", as if they thought he could hear them from the Centre Court, 400 yards away.

It is truly a bizarre phenomenon. Thousands of people effectively becoming a human sculpture of a giant couch laid out before a giant television screen. The young girl sitting next to me phoned home on her mobile to tell her parents that they could watch television and possibly catch her being shown watching the giant television, as a BBC camera frequently relayed shots of the Hill People to the Hill People themselves. Each time, they stood and waved in self-acclaim.

The crowd's early optimism began to fade as Henman squandered a 5-3 lead in the first set. Pockets of South African support retaliated with flags and cheers for Ferreira as their man resisted the popular tide. But then there was a standing ovation as Henman finally edged the set.

By now the gathering on the mount had swollen to biblical size, and dark-suited security guards began barking instructions. A stream of Henmen and Henwomen were kept in wearying motion around The Hill to avoid further overcrowding. They clambered on to benches and stood on tip-toe to peer over the tall privet hedges of a pergola at the top of The Hill.

Up on the screen, Henman began to wilt himself. "Silly boy!" cursed one middle-class lady in a beanie hat. As Ferreira deservedly took the second set, the unthinkable happened as dozens of non-believers moved off The Hill, only to be replaced by devotees who had been waiting on the fringes.

The agony of another tie-break, after a tortuous third set, had Henmania turning to paranoia, as it seemed the Brit would make it as hard as possible for himself to win this third-round match. "Why does he do this to us?" asked one fan through gritted teeth, before leaping in the air as Henman finally took the tie-break on a Ferreira error. Henman thumped his heart to gesture his strength, while the fans on The Hill checked theirs to see if they were still beating.

As Ferreira ebbed away in the fourth, the Henman Hillbillies hugged each other in relief. But they may choose to watch his next game lying down in a darkened room. The Hill makes you ill.