In 2019, 15 and a wild-card entrant to the US Open, Coco Gauff had been steamrolling her way through the championship till she ran into Naomi Osaka, World number 1 and defending champion. The match was unremarkable: Osaka won 6-3, 6-0. But it was what came after that made it unforgettable. Osaka, 21, went up to the weeping teenager and invited her to participate in the post-match interview with her. In the teary-eyed session that followed, Osaka said, “… the fact that both of us made it, and we’re both still working as hard as we can… is incredible.” Six years later, at this year’s Open, not much seems to have changed, except for the status of the players. Osaka, now World number 24, making a comeback after a motherhood break, defeated World number 3 Gauff 6-3, 6-2. At the post-match interview, the script of their solidarity remained unchanged.
What made the match striking was the emotional undercurrent that girds the players’ relationship. Both players model a version of strength that runs counter to the culture of cutthroat ascendancy. Gauff and Osaka are, by their own admission, not friends. They admire each other as colleagues. They are both players of colour in a sport with a history of exclusion. Osaka has lived through the long shadow of early fame on her mental health; Gauff still struggles with her prodigious — and erratic — genius. Together, they serve a reminder that resilience is not always loud, that empathy is not incompatible with excellence.
In 1950, Althea Gibson became the first Black woman to play in what was then the US National Championship. Her legacy paved the way for Evonne Goolagong, the Williams sisters and countless others who followed. By holding each other up, Osaka and Gauff honour Gibson’s struggle and offer a narrative of stewardship in which an ethic of care illuminates the path forward and along which they become visible, often vulnerable, examples of change.
