displaying a special brand of gall, people who have never been ranked among the top players in the world, who have never been crowned highest-paid athlete — as osaka was last year, to the tune of us $55 million — those who don’t have the faintest idea what pressure she’s dealing with, were telling her that her well-being wasn’t a priority but press appearances were.
i’m a long-time tennis fan, and part of what i love most about the sport is its traditions, like players wearing only white at wimbledon, and patrons drinking the signature honey deuce cocktail at the u.s. open. but traditions, at times, need to be adjusted.
in her statement, osaka painted a clear picture of what she wanted to avoid: leaving a press conference distraught and in tears. does it happen all the time? no. but how many players need to break down before we give a damn and review the way this often less-than-glorious exercise is conducted?
what was inelegantly asked of osaka is the equivalent — post #metoo awareness — of forcing her into a pre-arranged marriage with a man she expressly says she wasn’t comfortable around.
did i hallucinate all of our talk of openness, the campaigns encouraging us to seek mental health help, the initiatives à la bell let’s talk? because some of the commentariat, the ones in chorus with most tournament officials, the ones who would have you believe osaka is nothing but a spoiled brat incapable of understanding the type of contracts she’s been signing for years, make me believe that the recent advances we’ve claimed to have made when it comes to mental health are really just for show.