Bill Simons
At the Open we saw Aryna Sabalenka with her dog Ash on a leash, a $110,000 necklace on her neck, a Tiger tattoo on her arm and a problem on her hands.
Elena Rybakina.
Never mind that the Australian Open champion had been hobbled by an ankle injury in August, and over the past decade had never gotten beyond the fourth round in the Big Apple.
Years ago, tennis dubbed Tunisia’s often jolly Ons Jabeur the Minister of Happiness. Rybakina is the WTA’s Minister of the Interior.
“She’s very quiet, very soft-spoken,” noted Chris McKendry. “We don’t know very much about her.” Lindsay Davenport observed, “She doesn’t let you in. We don’t know what she’s thinking.” Mary Carillo quipped, “She’s not a New Yorker.”
New York is loud. Elena is quiet.
But at this year’s Open, her results were deafening. She beat four-time Slam winner Naomi Osaka, Olympic champion Qinwen Zheng and America’s darling, Coco Gauff. And, yes, by reaching the semis, she dethroned Sabalenka as the world No. 1.
Aryna was not pleased. “How dare you?” she seemed to say. “I’ve been No. 1 for 99 weeks, I’m the best hard court player in the world. I’ve won the Open twice in a row. I’ll show you!”
But, at first, she didn’t.
Her focus strong, Rybakina came out on fire and in the zone. Blazing backhands? Yes. First serves in? Not so much. But she punished with her second serve.
Elena is an extraordinary ball striker. Clean strokes, easy power, great balance, little stutter steps – simplicity and efficiency are her allies. She imposed in the first set, taking the lead over the edgy, tightly wound Sabalenka.
As Brad Pitt looked on, Sabalenka was in the pits. Forehands flying, hands flailing, howling in frustration, she bashed a ball into the stands and seemed close to imploding.
How can such an elite champion, the best hard court player of our era, be so out of sorts, so off center?
Earlier this week, when Coco Gauff was struggling, she observed, “I just have to tell the negative me to shut up.”
Sometimes it seems as if Sabalenka beats up more on herself than her foes.
Aryna lost the first set 6-4, and Rybakina gained two early break points in the second set. All seemed lost. The 27-year-old Rybakina might soon be leaving the Big Apple with the top ranking for her resume, a shiny trophy for her mantle and a whopping $5.5 million in her pocket.
But Sabalenka dug deep and flashed her athleticism as she retrieved a short volley, and, in a flash, switched her once sagging body language as she found her long lost confidence, won 12 points in a row and took the second set 7-5.
With the match even at a set apiece, the stats sheet showed us just how evenly matched these power blasters were: 7-7 head to head in their hard court matches, each had won 23 sets against the other, and, today, both had collected 71 points. Amazing!
So close you couldn’t blink – but Aryna did.
While the composed Elena kept her game face in place and hit lasers deep into the court, Sabalenka wobbled. Her backhands dipped into the net. She flung her racket to the ground, her level dipped. She bent to the ground in agony. And again, we saw a series of tortured expressions – such pain.
And, as Rybakina’s pressure paid off, the Kazakh simply dominated. She broke twice in the third set, and barely lost a point on her improving and punishing first serve.
Appropriately enough, Elena shrugged off two double faults at crunch time before she blasted an ace to score the third Grand Slam title of her career, 6-4, 5-7, 6-2. And while the gutted Sabalenka pouted, smashed her racket and began to weep, something amazing happened.
The Minister of the Interior let us in. She raised her arms in gentle glee, and offered two lovely fist pumps and a sweet triumphant smile.
And we were sure that somewhere in Sousse, Tunisia, the Minister of Happiness was smiling.
NO PRESSURE BEN: Argentina is wild about soccer. Australia loves its sports. But, come on — here in America, sports is a religion. The Super Bowl is a billion-dollar spiritual experience. When the Knicks win, New York goes nuts. At the Olympics, we gather a bounty of gold.
And our women tennis players — whether named Billie Jean, Venus, Serena or Coco — helped forge the most successful women’s sport on the planet.
So, American men’s tennis, what’s up?
Twenty-three years without a Grand Slam title is enough. And guess what? We’re tired of the explanations. Some contend America has become a bit soft. Yes, tennis is a bigger deal in Europe. Yes, the Big Three were a sporting blitz. And who knew that, without taking a breath, Alcaraz and Sinner would pick up the European banner and keep the domination rolling?
So, no pressure, Mr. Benjamin Todd Shelton. Tomorrow we’re not asking you to pull a rabbit out of your hat. You don’t wear a hat. We’re not saying you should show us some special trick you have up your sleeve. You don’t have any sleeves.
All we’re saying is that, tomorrow, you have the hopes of a tennis nation on your shoulders. And trust us, we’re searching for any signs of hope.
After all, the last Black American man to reach a Grand Slam final was MaliVai Washington at Wimbledon in 1996 — a final preceded, improbably enough, by the only streaker ever to dash across Centre Court before a Slam final.
So, Ben, tomorrow, dash around Ashe all you want.
Just keep your clothes on — and, puh-leez, put an end to the most humbling streak in American sports.
TWO THINGS CAN BE TRUE AT ONCE: An odd thing happens at Wimbledon. Amid all its grandeur, after a while, it can get annoying. It’s so refined, so proper, so ordered. Every petunia is in its proper place. As Russian Marat Safin put it, “You have to wear white, be nice and polite to people.”
Then, inevitably, Wimbledon delivers incredible drama that amply feeds the tennis soul.
The US Open is just like that – only more so. For three weeks, we’ve heard it all. We’re becoming a tennis Disneyland with stratospheric ticket prices, an uncontrolled “fork over your $3,600 for a ticket” resale market, the USTA empowering gambling outfits, night tennis that doesn’t know when to quit, too many influencers and some swift kicks in the shins to the media. Have a nice fan experience.
Hundreds of thousands have said, “Hey, this is the Open – I’m going!”
Night tennis is its own animal. There’s only one Arthur Ashe Stadium – sizzle on steroids.
So it’s all a bit complicated.
The phrase, “Two things can be true at once” comes to mind. As Shelton and Tiafoe lit up Ashe Stadium and New Yorkers howled, Chris Fowler observed, “Regardless of what you think of the US Open, only this place can produce moments like these.”
For generations, people have told their friends, “May you live in interesting times.”
From the outset, the Open, with Serena appearing on court, Federer drawing kudos, Djokovic seeking to defy mortality, Wawrinka and Monfils bowing out, the re-emergence of the dazzling Alcaraz, and the breathtaking surge by Americans has certainly given us interesting times – even at 3:30 AM.
THE SADNESS OF SABALENKA: Years ago after losing the Open Aryna smashed her racket and threw it in a trash can. She did it again today after her loss. In a different vain, In her presser she spoke of Rybakina saying “99 weeks [at No. 1], let’s see if Elena can beat that. If she continues to play like that, yeah I’m in trouble.”
RANKING ROYALTY: Monday’s world rankings will look like this for America’s best: Ben Shelton – No. 4, Frances Tiafoe – No. 8, Taylor Fritz – No. 10, Jessica Pegula – No 3, Coco Gauff – No. 4.
A GAME WITHOUT BORDERS: We all know tennis is a game without borders, an international circus where strangers are honored.
This week, we were reminded that Frances Tiafoe’s parents came to America from war-torn Sierra Leone. One of our favorite international narratives is about Cam Norrie, who was born in South Africa, raised in New Zealand, moved to Britain and then headed off to Texas to play at TCU.
Thursday, there was a ceremony honoring the retirement of doubles savant Rajeev Ram – a man of Indian heritage who was reared in Indiana before he lived in Walnut Creek, California – was celebrated.
And there was a full-circle touch. Ram was honored with new USTA chief Craig Tiley on hand — the same man who recruited and coached him at Illinois.
Tiley, the only man to be at the helm of two different Slams in one year, is very much a global figure. Born in South Africa, he became a NCAA championship college coach at Illinois, then headed to Melbourne, where he ran the Aussie Open for two decades, and has just become a certified New Yorker.
LONG-DISTANCE TRAVELERS: Never have two US Open women’s finalists represented lands so distant from New York. Sabalenka’s hometown of Minsk, Belarus, is 4,438 miles from New York, while Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, which Rybakina represents, is 5,772 miles away. That’s a combined 10,210 miles – even farther than Russians Svetlana Kuznetsova and Elena Dementieva, who met in the 2004 final.
Then again, Sabalenka now lives in Miami, while Rybakina who is based in Dubai and Slovoka, has said that, because she travels so much, she doesn’t really have a permanent home.
IS 6’ 6” THE NEW NORMAL? After 6’ 6” Alexander Zverev beat 6’ 6” Karen Khachanov, he was interviewed by Sam Querrey, who’s 6’ 6”.
TAYLOR’S GRAND SLAM: Taylor Townsend and Katerina Siniakova beat Ashlyn Krueger and Robin Montgomery 5-7, 6-0, 6-2 for the women’s doubles title. Townsend thereby completed the career Grand Slam. Siniakova remarkably completed a second career Slam – with a second partner.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1: Five people from four countries, including three commentators, two Hall of Famers and one Slam winner were all in the same orbit, when Mary Carillo, Lindsay Davenport and Germany’s Andrea Petkovic called Kazakh Elena Rybakina’s quarterfinal victory over China’s Qinwen Zheng.
FATHER KNOWS BEST: Shelton and Zverev are both coached by their dads.
COULD THIS BE? Whenever Aryna Sabalenka talks about her sweet dog Ash, she makes it sound like the pup was named after Arthur Ashe Stadium, not Arthur himself.
KUDOS TO FOE: Frances Tiafoe won the opening set of his semi against Shelton, but then lost the next three. Nonetheless, he was a wonder on Louis Armstrong Court where he now has a 10-0 record. He dubbed the stadium “The People’s Court,” and, with Alex Michelsen was half of the most poignant men’s tennis embrace since Yannik Noah bear-hugged his dad after winning the 1983 French Open.
MISSING CHRISSIE: A voice of grace and wisdom has been absent from the broadcasting booth. Sadly, as best we can tell, for the first time since 1971, we’ve had a US Open without Chris Evert. It’s just not the same, and the whole tennis world is wishing her success in her ongoing battle against cancer. BTW: In 1971, as a 16-year-old amateur on a two-week break from high school, she reached the US Open semis, where she lost to the No. 1 seed, Billie Jean King.
