Every once and a while a story comes along that touches us neurotic journalists to our core. The latest chapter in the life of tennis star Naomi Osaka is such a story.
As you by now no doubt know, Osaka — the No. 2-ranked woman in tennis and the highest paid female athlete in the world, one who advocates for racial justice and expresses herself through fashion —was struggling through the clay court season when she hit a roadblock at the French Open in Paris. Osaka decided she would not attend the obligatory press conferences as questions about her poor clay court play were messing with her head. Being a 23-year-old, Osaka did what any 23-year-old would do: She made the announcement on social media. Tournament officials did what tournament officials do-do so well: They fined her.
Had there been some kind of direct, back-channel communication, as sportswriter Howard Bryant observed to Amna Nawaz on the “PBS NewsHour,” the situation might’ve been resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. Instead Osaka decided to quit the tournament, citing anxiety and depression — which she also announced on social media — while French Open officials decided to double down, issuing a statement with the Australian and US Opens and Wimbledon that noted she would be barred from play at the Slams if her press boycott continued. Then they did an about-face to signal their support of her.
First, if you think your work is affecting your mental health, you should “step back” — in the parlance of the moment — if you can. Few, however, have Osaka’s financial security and thus the luxury to do so. (She made $55 million last year.) But her wealth is no reason to assume that her problems aren’t real and that she’s merely acting like an entitled Gen Z-er. Granted, she should’ve communicated directly with French Open authorities in a phone call, email or letter, not on social media. But they in turn didn’t have to come down on her with heavy-handed threats.
And what of the press’ role in all this? In our partisan culture, reporting has given way to commentating. It’s interesting that the initial story on the front page of The New York Times described Osaka as tennis’ “most magnetic” star. Says who? Why not “one of tennis’ most magnetic stars” or “a star whose magnetism has earned her millions in endorsements”? We in the press puff these stars up only to tear them down. I didn’t see anyone on The Times’ front page shedding any tears last year for Novak Djokovic when he angrily bounced a ball that hit a lineswoman accidentally in the early rounds of the US Open. Even though he apologized and checked on the lineswoman, he was in turn bounced from the tournament, fined, and then fined again for skipping the press conference. And that was that.
It must be humiliating to have to sit through a presser when you’ve just played your heart out and lost in a sport in which most players lose most of the time. It must be tiresome to be a top player and have to answer the same tedious questions over and over, particularly when you’re trying to focus on your game as you move deeper into a tournament. And it must be particularly difficult to have to face questions you’ve probably asked yourself: Why doesn’t the No. 2 player in the world play better on clay? It’s a question members of her own team alluded to on social media. (Maybe instead of avoiding press conferences, which can be controlled, people should avoid social media, which can’t.) Maybe, too, Osaka will never be a great clay court player. Pete Sampras wasn’t. But maybe it’s a question of maturing and getting better acquainted with a surface as Andre Agassi did with Wimbledon grass.
In any event, every job has its tedium and its challenges, doesn’t it? As I always tell my younger writers: “Find what you like in what you don’t.” And the sooner you get something unpleasant over with, the sooner you can get to what you really want to do.
The idea that a public “performer” — be it a politician, an athlete or any kind of artist — shouldn’t talk to the press is limiting and potentially dangerous. A free press is the backbone of democracy. And it has two thing social media does not — editors and context. The press is an ally when providing Osaka with a platform for her racial justice issues or her co-chairing of September’s Met Gala, but it’s intrusive when probing her tennis game? She can pose in skimpy clothing in Vogue but she’s too shy to speak to the press about tennis? Sorry, but there’s a disconnect there.
And what are we as reporters supposed to do? Fold our tents and go away and let the Wild West of the web take over unfiltered? The press has a job to do and a right to access to do that job. And Osaka seemed to understand that several years ago when she appeared at the US Open’s Media Day. “I love you guys,” she said as she appeared before a handful of reporters and an audience of fans, saying she was there to help in any way she could. I thought then, She is lovely, poised, gifted and totally together. Now it all seems too much. Somehow I don’t think the press is the heart of the issue.
I myself happen to be an anxious person. But when I’m most anxious, I focus on my writing. I concentrate on the work. Perhaps this will be a teachable moment in which tournament officials devise a new plan for press conferences, cutting players some slack and allowing them to skip them occasionally. But perhaps it will also be an opportunity for Osaka to home in on what she does best — play tennis.