Tennis has long marketed itself as a sport of decorum. White attire, restrained applause, and respectful quiet between points are often treated as important as the win itself. These customs are often framed as tradition, but they have also been used to quietly police who gets to express how emotion is expressed on the court.
That tension surfaced again at this year’s Australian Open during a second-round match between Naomi Osaka and Romania’s Sorana Cîrstea. Osaka won decisively, but the post-match handshake was brief and “icy”. Cîrstea later expressed frustration with Osaka’s vocal self-encouragement “Come on!” exclamations. These moments are common across professional tennis and fully permitted under the rules, which Kelly Rask, the Chair Umpire during the match, stated were allowed
Osaka later addressed the moment in her post-match interview, offering an apology for her comments in the moment. Shortly afterward, she withdrew from the tournament due to an abdominal injury, clarifying that her exit was physical and not related to mental health or trolls, as early speculation suggested.
While the exchange itself was minor, it fit a familiar pattern. Black women in tennis have long faced heightened scrutiny for expressive play, particularly when that expression makes opponents uncomfortable—often in moments of loss.
Notably, tennis has never had a written rule requiring silence from players. What exists instead is a prohibition against “deliberate hindrance,” a loosely defined standard that gives umpires wide discretion to determine what constitutes distraction or unsportsmanlike conduct. Self-directed vocalizations: celebratory shouts, verbal motivation, or expressions of frustration, have always been legal.
Silence was never a rule. It was, however, an expectation. One rooted in tennis’s elite European origins, where emotional restraint was closely tied to class, discipline, and legitimacy. Over time, composure became synonymous with sportsmanship, while overt expression was framed as excess.
As the sport evolved, that cultural framework remained unevenly enforced.
Jelena Ostapenko of Latvia (R) argues with Taylor Townsend of the United States (L) at 2025 US Open.” class=”wp-image-328868″ />This imbalance became especially visible in recent years. Last summer, U.S. player Taylor Townsend was targeted after her opponent, Latvian Jelena Ostapenko, was caught on a hot mic calling Townsend “no class” and questioning her “education.” The remarks were widely criticized, but they revealed how quickly critiques of style can slide into coded judgments about intellect and worth.
Serena Williams’ experience looms even larger. During the 2018 U.S. Open final against Osaka, Williams faced intense backlash for her emotional response to disputed calls. Many observers pointed out the contrast between how her behavior was received and how male players—most famously John McEnroe—were historically celebrated for similar or more extreme outbursts.
McEnroe’s confrontations with officials and broken rackets were absorbed into tennis lore as evidence of competitive fire rather than a breach of decorum.
Tennis’s global showcase events further highlight these contradictions. Each Grand Slam operates within its own cultural norms. Wimbledon remains the most tradition-bound, emphasizing restrained crowds and strict adherence to long-standing customs. The Australian Open and U.S. Open, by contrast, have embraced more relaxed atmospheres, night sessions, and louder spectator engagement, reflecting the sport’s broader internationalization. The French Open occupies a middle ground, shaped by its own history and audience expectations.
Yet even as audience behavior shifts from venue to venue, expectations placed on players, particularly women and Black competitors, often remain tethered to older standards. Expressive play that is accepted or even celebrated in one context can still be framed as disruptive, especially when the competitor is in fact losing.
This tension speaks to a larger identity struggle within the sport. Tennis wants to attract younger audienceselevate player individuality, and present itself as modern and inclusive. At the same time, it continues to uphold unspoken norms that limit how that individuality is allowed to manifest.
Vocal self-motivation, a common psychological tool across competitive sports, is frequently reframed in tennis as provocation rather than preparation. When those expressions come, they are more likely to be treated as violations rather than evidence of competitive intensity.
Competition is inherently expressive. It carries momentum shifts, frustration, resilience, and release. Overall, the governing organization of tennis seems to understand the value of player individuality, while it seems more often than not that it’s some of the players who continue to uphold archaic standards that equate silence with fairness.
Expecting athletes to suppress emotion runs counter to the reality of competition itself. Black women deserve the same freedom to experience all of it on a level playing field, without their expression being treated as a reason for one’s failure, but rather as a part of the game.
