The passing of the baton, the changing of the guard – call it what you like. The simple fact is that Carlos Alcaraz is the new king of the Centre Court and Novak Djokovic, the mighty collector of Grand Slam titles, has been deposed.

Alcaraz defended his Wimbledon title with a masterclass, dismissing Djokovic 6-2, 6-2 7-6(4).

“He had it all today,” Djokovic said. “He was an absolutely deserved winner today.”

Alcaraz’s parents looked as proud as punch. Djokovic looked resigned to his future: young Carlitos standing between him and the 25th Grand Slam title he so desperately craves.

It was a fascinating match-up between the two champions, past and present, and no one – be they pundit, punter or player – could identify a clear favourite before the match.

The problem was that the numbers were so one-sided as to be irrelevant. Titles won: Djokovic 98, Alcaraz 15. Grand Slam titles won: Djokovic 24, Alcaraz three. Wimbledon titles won: Djokovic seven, Alcaraz one.

Yet Alcaraz was the defending champion and he had beaten Djokovic on this court before.

As they walked through the Clubhouse to the court, there was a jovial discussion about who should go first. “I don’t know the protocol, you go first,” Alcaraz said with his usual, beaming smile. Little did Djokovic know that that would be the only time the defending champion would give way to him for the rest of the day.

Winning the toss and electing to receive, Alcaraz took 14 minutes, seven deuces and five break points to break the Djokovic serve in the opening game. The tone had been set and, for that set at least, the damage had been done. Djokovic never recovered.

Last year, both men were at their absolute peak and the five set, four-and-three-quarter hour final was as tight as tight can be. This year, both men have been below their best in every round; now the final promised to be even tighter than tight. And it was – but only for those 14 minutes.

Then again, this was not the rock-solid, baseline Djokovic we had come to know over the years. From the very first points, it was clear that the Serb was going to attack the net.

The first time he won here in 2011, Djoko came to the net eight times over the course of seven rounds. That equated to less than one per cent of the total number of points he played during the Fortnight.

In the first set alone, he had almost doubled that: 13 points played at the net although only four of them won.

What was also becoming increasingly clear was that Alcaraz was warming to his task. After that first, long game, any hint of pre-final jitters had gone and he was free to let his imagination run riot.

Able to create magic out of thin air from any quarter of the court, he was dismantling Djokovic piece by piece.

One of the greatest returners the game has seen; one of the finest defenders, able to neutralise any form of attack, Djokovic was stumped. He simply could not find an answer to the barrage of winners coming his way.

A crisp, forehand volley? Alcaraz chased it down and bunted a forehand winner down the line. A regulation rally point? Another forehand, this one blasted down the line.

Under that sort of pressure, Djokovic was crumbling before our eyes: a volley error and a double fault offered up his serve for the second time in the second set. The final was running away from him and he could only stand and watch.

If Djokovic played an average shot, Alcaraz punished it with glee. Even if he came up with a shot that against any other player would have been a clean winner, Alcaraz chased it down and swatted it away for a winner of his own.

And then he would turn to his box and smile. This was a Wimbledon final and he was loving it; he was having fun. No one, not even Djokovic, can put pressure on Alcaraz when he is in that sort of mood.

The third set offered Djokovic a glimmer of hope: he won the opening game. It was the first time he had managed all afternoon it and it was only a hold of serve, but it was a start.

Then, a few moments later, he won another marathon, 10-minute game of five deuces and four breakpoints. But that was only another hold. Still, he was on level terms in this set, at least. These were the first, small building blocks of a potential Djokovic comeback.

And then Alcaraz kicked them aside in a flurry of ferocious forehands. He shredded the Djokovic serve, taking it to love.

Only then did Alcaraz falter slightly.

After two hours and 11 minutes, he dropped serve for the first time. Admittedly, the tension that goes with serving for a Wimbledon title is like no other and from holding three championship points, he offered up his serve with a collection of errors.

Once into the tie-break, he was not going to do that again. Djokovic fought hard but Alcaraz was brilliant. He won on his fourth match point.

He had won his second Wimbledon crown and his fourth Grand Slam title. He has never lost a Grand Slam final. And he is still only 21.

The king is dead; long live the king.