An Open Letter to Naomi Osaka

Bill Simons

Dear Naomi,

What I most love about tennis is that it so adeptly reflects life and so amplifies character. And one thing I love so much about my profession is press conferences. I take them seriously. I consider them both a treasure and a kind of art form. A carefully crafted question can deepen our understanding. The spontaneous give and take of a great exchange can delight.

Press conferences are a gift – a unique opportunity to learn. They can reveal so much – and not just about why a player chose to go cross-court on breakpoint deep into the third. In the best of pressers we may learn of the wonder of an emerging teen, the pathos of a star struggling with losses or injuries, or the poignant memories of a legend stepping away.

The best press conferences are journeys in which we can learn about almost everything: pain, triumph, fear, the heat of battle, psychology, culture, politics, spirituality, ethics, quirks and dreams – how wonderful! We can laugh, share history or get serious and call for accountability.

Press conferences are unpredictable. They can be trivial bores or even absurd, like when Anna Kournikova gathered the media to promote her sports bra. They can delight, like when Goran Ivanisevic spoke of the three sides of his personality, or when Li Na and Andy Roddick would unleash their cut-to-the-chase zingers. (There’s nothing like a group of grizzled reporters leaving the press room in stitches).

Pressers can be tense, as when Serena spoke with us after her tumultuous 2018 US Open final. They can astound: Stefanie Graf wept as her career wound down. Rafa reflected on the nature of doubt. After a daunting off-court incident, Venus bared her soul. And Arthur Ashe and Andy Murray both broke down while revealing their maladies.

Clearly, reporters make their share of unforced errors. I certainly have. There have even been instances of violence at pressers. After a testy 1981 McEnroe match at Wimbledon, a British and an American writer fought. Another time, in the Wimbledon interview room, Jeff Tarango’s wife slapped ump Bruno Rebeuh, whom she claimed was “the most corrupt official in the game.”

Not surprisingly, Naomi, I first encountered you at a whimsical 2014 press conference at Stanford. You were just 16 and fresh off a win over Sam Stosur when I asked you about your name and your birthplace in Osaka, Japan. You broke up the room when you joked, “Everyone who lives in Osaka is named Osaka.” You were delightful then, and, over the years, your pressers so often have been enchanting, not-to-be-missed happenings. More than any other player, we have seen you thinking aloud. You have let us in, and your unscripted transparency has disarmed and enchanted us. You told us, “I am weird. It’s kind of a fact.” We celebrated your innocence. And we saw you grow and evolve. Your steel strength on court impressed, your integrity off-court resonated. Last September when we asked you to explain your calls for racial justice, you stepped up and spoke with eloquence, honesty and wisdom. While referring to George Floyd, you told us, “It’s amazing how one person can inspire so many.” Now at just 23, you are an inspiration. Many believe you are the future of our sport. Still, as Billie Jean King has said, “The higher altitudes of tennis can be a bare-knuckle place.” Then again, she told us, “Champions adjust,” and “Pressure is a privilege.”

While you shared that you struggled with shyness and depression, I don’t really know you. Still, your core kindness is clear. It’s hard to imagine anyone trying to hurt you or hoping to instill you with doubts.

I’ve covered tennis for 40 years, and when it comes to compelling and revealing press conferences you are right up there with Billie Jean, Arthur Ashe, Roger Federer, Andre Agassi, John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Andy Roddick, Yannick Noah, Andy Murray and Li Na. And you do yours in English and in Japanese.

In your recent statement explaining why you wouldn’t be doing press conferences in Paris, you brought up the critical issue of mental health. You contended, “I’ve often felt that people have no regard for athletes’ mental health, and this rings true whenever I see a press conference or partake in one.”

Certainly there have been wretched moments in press conferences. Jennifer Capriati broke down in tears at the US Open. Serena teared up during her Australian Open presser this year and left. After the death of her father, Amanda Anisimova was asked a troubling question. There are other examples.

Facing a press room packed with reporters can be intimidating, even for veterans. On occasion, tabloids assign non-tennis writers to ask “gotcha” questions. Certainly the press needs to have empathy and perspective. It’s imperative to have more diversity in the media and to gain more awareness relating to mental health. But I believe that there have been relatively few instances of abuse in pressers, and that doing press conferences, while often challenging, is part of the responsibility of being an elite, well-paid athlete on a big stage.

Yes, without doubt, mental health comes first. Still good press conferences are a key vehicle through which the tennis world discovers what really happened on court, who our stars really are, and what, beyond great groundies, makes them tick. Through press room exchanges the media gains insights and then shares them with fans around the world. Maybe we have ro re-imagine them in certain ways – do no harm. Still I feel they are essential in promoting the game. We get to know and appreciate each other.

It’s wonderful you brought up the issues of mental health and abuse. You are such a leader and we need to reflect. But my feeling, Naomi, is that the press conference, rather than being shunned, should be used as the unique platform and pathway it often is. A medium that, at its best, provides clarity, reveals truths and seeks understanding on many levels.

Sincerely,

Bill Simons

Founding Editor and Publisher

Inside Tennis