Tennis Mailbag: Why the Carlos Alcaraz–Jannik Sinner Rivalry Is Good for the Sport

Submissions have been lightly edited for brevity and clarity.

As it is written, Wednesday is mailbag day …

• Here’s my U.S. Open 50 Parting Thoughts column.

• Here’s the Served podcast’s U.S. Open recap show:

Onward …

Jon, I am counting on you to help me appreciate men’s tennis right now. I love [Carlos] Alcaraz and [Jannik] Sinner. How can you not. But two men does not a tour make. How invested can we get in a tournament when we all know only two guys have a real chance?

Bruce, D.C.

• We, as tennis fans, are a picky lot. We bemoan parity and romanticize the power of rivalry. (I do, anyway.) Then, immediately after the Big Three, a new rivalry takes hold, and what do we do? We complain about the absence of parity.

Seriously, I hear you. I liked this line from Ben Rothenberg. “The first six rounds could have been an email.” For the eighth(!) straight major, Sincaraz won. For the third consecutive major, they met in the final, and neither was really challenged en route. Alcaraz was awesome. Sinner was sometimes awesome and sometimes not. And it didn’t matter much.

Two sweeping thoughts:

A) Pick a cliché. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! Take yes for an answer! Smell the roses! Rivalry is the rocket booster of sports. We have two individuals, similar in age and contrasting in styles, pushing each other, taking the sport to new heights and splitting the last eight majors 4–4. Lean into this element of the rivalry, not the absence of challenge preceding their inevitable encounter for the trophy.

B) I point you to a Serbian player in 2011. Novak Djokovic essentially said, I do not and will not accept the status quo. Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal are swell, but I am coming to break up this duopoly and impose myself. At some point, someone will come along, fashion their game for a takedown, and push Alcaraz and Sinner. The “who” and “when” are to be determined, but eventually we will recall the time we wondered who would break up the party. This is the nature and beauty of competition.

Hi Jon,

I hope you are doing well.

I am writing about recent reports that the USTA has asked broadcasters to “refrain from showcasing any disruptions or reactions” to President Trump’s presence at the U.S. Open men’s final. I am disturbed that the USTA feels the need to proactively ask the media to censor or adjust its coverage of a live event.

Context matters, and this is not an isolated event. President Trump has previously threatened the media when he is unhappy with how he or his adversaries are portrayed. I am bothered that the USTA is inserting itself in this way—it feels like they are running interference for the President.

I do not want President Trump to become the main character of the U.S. Open men’s final. Sinner and Alcaraz have earned that right. I also believe that people who I find morally objectionable should be allowed to attend sporting events and enjoy watching the sport that I love. On the other hand, I think it is inappropriate for the USTA to ask broadcasters to potentially censor negative responses to the President.

As a USTA Member I am deeply saddened and angry that the USTA would ask the media to censor or adjust their coverage to portray a particular narrative. I respect you as a thoughtful member of the tennis media. Is my anger unwarranted? Should I write to the USTA? Should I consider cancelling my USTA membership? Should I just let this go? Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

Thanks, Brennan Mange, Austin, TX

• My advice: Don’t cancel your membership, thereby depriving yourself of tennis. But also, don’t let this issue go. If the USTA has shown anything here, it’s that commerce is king. If enough dues-paying members and ticket-paying fans complain vocally—leaving the equivalent of bad Yelp reviews—it might do more than the global condemnation the tournament received.

Let’s try to swerve around divisive politics. As I see it, this is not, ultimately, a left vs. right, MAGA vs. non-MAGA issue. This is about a sporting body acting with minimal principle and maximum cowardice, effectively seeking to censor the public. Whether this was at the behest of the White House or a preemptive move doesn’t ultimately matter. Asking broadcasters to “refrain from showcasing any disruptions or reactions in response to the President’s attendance in any capacity” is what an invertebrate organization looks like.

So, let the USTA know that this is wildly unacceptable. That this is wildly inconsistent with all the values it professes to hold. That, for all the flag-waving, military processions, Althea Gibson celebrations and press releases about “inclusion” and “transparency,” censorship is the antithesis of all that; in fact, it is the antithesis of American democracy. That for an organization that feasts on viral clips and celebrity sightings and “disruptions and reactions”—How many times have we all seen Taylor Swift and the Honey Deuce? Simone Biles’s reaction to Coco Gauff was a featured tile on the U.S. Open homepage!—this policy is hypocrisy in its most elevated form. (That an organization that, I’m told, spends $200,000 a month on outside PR advice, is getting some terminally rotten PR advice.)

I spoke with several people on Sunday, trying to piece together the timeline and mechanics of the directive. The range of conflicting answers—even among USTA employees (and fear of going on record)—spoke to the internal chaos, to how sudden, unanticipated and convulsive this visit from
President Trump was.

President Trump was a guest of a sponsor, Rolex, and not the tournament itself, which complicated matters. Fine. There was a lack of advance warning, which complicated matters. Fine. As a nonprofit organization exempt from taxes, the USTA wants to stay in the good graces of the federal government. Fine-ish. Clearly, there was—and is—a lot going on here under the surface.

But a censorship memo? What are we doing here? Bryan Graham—former mailbag editor—nailed it in this column featured in The Guardian: “Fans will still do what fans do. If they want to boo, they will boo. But millions at home may never see it, thanks to a governing body that has chosen to act less like a guardian of sport and more like a nervous producer of campaign stagecraft. For a sport that prides itself on honesty and clarity—the ball is in or out—it is a shameful retreat.”

Jon, how do you answer your own question?

Eddie S.

• This question was in reference to a point I raised on X about Djokovic during the Alcaraz match:

Hard not to feel for Djokovic in this purgatory….He’s legit the third-best player in the world—still too good to walk away… But the two guys ahead of him are just too young/physical/tough… What’s the 38-year-old unrivaled champion to do?

Me? I can only answer the question for myself, what I would do if similarly positioned. But it’s not my call to make (happily) or, really, anyone else’s other than Djokovic. I do think this underscores the difficulty presented to players deciding their futures, and it’s easy to argue either way.

Angel on the shoulder: Retire? Are you nuts, Nole? There are eight billion people on the planet, and you still have a skill you execute better than all but two people. You make millions. You’re adored. You’re still charged by competition. Sometimes sports decide for you. (You’re injured. You’re embarrassed. You lack will.) This is none of those. You’re known for your persistence. So, persist! Keep playing and maybe you’ll crack this riddle!

Devil on the other shoulder: Dude, enough. You have every record. You have a wife. You have two kids who are growing every day. For most players, being No. 3 would be awesome. But you are not most players. You yourself said it, you’re basically playing solely for the major. Well, the majors have spoken, and spoken consistently. You can beat 125 players in the field, but not the two guys ahead of you—certainly not back-to-back. Your record of 24 major titles is safe. You’re crowding age 40. You have other interests. Return to Europe and become a non-authoritarian world leader. Learn coding. Brew your own craft beer. But what are we doing here? You crushed tennis. Why keep going just to lose in the semifinals?

Novak Djokovic fell to Carlos Alcaraz in the semifinals of the 2025 U.S. Open. | Mike Frey-Imagn Images

Have you seen the Lost Boys IV Script starring ATP Players?

[Taylor] Fritz, [Andrey] Rublev, [Stefanos] Tsitsipas and [Alexander] Zverev as the leads.
Written by Federer, Djokovic and Nadal.
Produced by Alcaraz and Sinner.
Directed by [Dominic] Thiem and [Daniil] Medvedev.
It’s a horror film for the stars; a comedy for everyone else.

Duane W., DC

• This is too harsh by one order of magnitude, but point taken. We had the Big Three. When that dynasty finally decomposed, there was surely a collective sigh of relief and now-it’s-my-time sentiment. What happened? Two guys who are simply better than the others emerged. Check this out: The prime years of a tennis player these days are, say, 25 to 30 years old? (Sinner says it’s 28.) Yet, one active player born in the 1990s has won a major. And he (Medvedev) is no longer in the top 15.

Jon, nice work with your practice court interviews and pieces! Please can you tell us more about practice partners? Who are they and can the players bring their own?

Susie B in SB

• Thanks. First, I’m not a marketer, and this isn’t my lane, but I feel like I need to plug these daily two-hour Tennis Channel pregame shows, to which you allude. Objectively, they are awfully good. Jim Courier, Lindsay Davenport and Chanda Rubin—whom I would pit against any starting three in tennis—giving analysis. Brett Haber hosting. I did segments from the grounds and practice courts. The gang in California weighed in from the studio. These shows had all the elements covered, especially for the hardcore fans: Laughs. Serious talk. Data. Player interviews. Highlights. Tennis politics. Informed opinions. I’m doing my part to spread the word for the next major.

Anyway, sure, I’m happy to answer this. At this event, there was a roster of 18 potential sparring partners. All male. They were mostly college players, but some were also juniors. A few players (Alcaraz) bring their own hitters, but most players use the house session players, as it were. Some players ask for specifics. I’m playing a lefty, so can I practice with a lefty? I’m playing a heavy hitter; can you give me your biggest slugger? Aside: I was speaking with a practice partner who is heading to Columbia in a few days, where he’ll be on the tennis team. One day you’re on Arthur Ashe hitting with Coco Gauff, the next day you’re at freshman orientation trying to remember the hometown of your fourth suitemate.

Hi Jon!

I'd love an answer to this question, if you have any insight. Thanks for all your work!

What is the incentive for the mid-match coach interviews? Why do coaches participate in these interviews courtside while the match is going? Brad Stine while Tommy Paul played, Mark Knowles while [Jessica] Pegula was losing(!) a service game. Why would you ever want to talk about your coaching insights about your player or your player’s opponent? Do the players like that their coaches are doing this? Is there $ involved as an ESPN contributor or something?

Best, Marina

• To be clear, no money is changing hands. Free of cynicism, the segments are a value add for viewers, a way to bring in some additional insight and add characters to the tennis cast. Coaches aren’t giving away real strategy, but a simple pop—Jess is really trying to be aggressive returning second serves, but sometimes she’s getting handcuffed—makes for decent TV. More cynically? In some cases (not, I hasten to add, the two examples mentioned in the question), the coach is happy for the publicity and airtime. It’s a way to promote his academy or branded apparel, or serves as an audition for his next gig or media ambitions.

**We use “his” intentionally. With scant exception, professional coaches are overwhelmingly male. Next week, we can discuss why and how to change that.

Love your mailbag.

Can you address the tendency of announcers talking about tennis players differently, indicating familiarness for one over another. The most recent example was Chrissie Evert constantly mentioning Coco and Osaka in their match. Why not name each player similarly? Yes, I know Coco is American and Naomi represents Japan. But Naomi has a Haitian American father and Japanese mother but lives in the U.S. It just grates on me this implied favoritism.

Warren

• I adore Chris Evert; she can do no wrong in my book and is a treasure. (While we’re here, note the 50-year celebration of her triumph at the 1975 U.S. Open.)

Yeah, I could go either way on this. In theory, we want impartiality and neutrality from commentators. But we also want authenticity. And commentators often know Player X better than Player Y, so why pretend otherwise? No one wants extreme patriotism. No one wants outright rooting. No one wants favoritism or blatant partiality. But if an analyst is much more familiar with one player—and may even have a personal or professional relationship, as, say, Brad Gilbert does with Gauff or Evert does with Ajla Tomljanović—why conceal that?