Racquet’s See You In Court is a regular column in which Melissa Kenny, a famously mediocre lifelong player, opines on pro tennis. She also writes Hard Hitting, a Substack about the thrills and frustrations of recreational tennis.
After this article—or any article I write—is published, a gaggle of nameless voices will start taunting me:
“You won’t make a TikTok about it.”
“Set up the tripod and tell everyone about your little article.”
“COME WITH ME to see a writer unravel at the idea of promoting her work with a chatty, direct-to-camera video.”
Such are the times, as I know you know.
It’s possible I’ll make some yappity content once I figure out how to change my personality which is largely rooted in millennial scorn. Until then? Low “reach” metrics! Unrealized “amplification” potential! Does it surprise you to hear I strategize for brands on these exact things as part of my day job? Do as I say, not as I do.
Pro tennis players are confronted with a similar pressure, though theirs are furnished with infinitely taller budgets. Sometimes these budgets are callously misused, not unlike the way certain rich people buy the ugliest thing in the Prada store for its conspicuous logo.
Because competition courses mercilessly through their veins, let’s pit two tennis players against each other: Priscilla Hon and Jannik Sinner. Have they ever even met before? Unlikely! They play on different tours. One has 120 women ahead of her; the other would win everything if it weren’t for his newly mulletted frenemy.
But Hon is lapping Sinner in the content race, and it’s time everyone knew. (There’s a tempting quip hanging in the air—it correlates ranking points and free time, and sir; ma'am, I urge you not to make it.) Truth is, Priscilla is doing a lot with a little, and Jannik is doing very little with a lot. They should link up for a skills exchange: better tennis for Priscilla; better content for Jannik. Just a friendly (professional) recommendation.
“It’s a boring life at times,” muses Jannik Sinner, after sharing the components of his mixed media breakfast (fruits, yogurt, tea, omelet, ham, and bread) in his recent vlog titled, ‘Jannik Sinner - One day in Melbourne.’ ‘Boring’ as a thematic anchor for his YouTube video wouldn’t be false, but to be fair, modern-day voyeurism is predicated on the mundane. Such has been the stuff of “going viral” for years! At only three minutes and 56 minutes, this pithy tease of a YouTube video probably underwent an approval workflow for buy-in from at least five Sinner stakeholders. The camerawork and editing are smooth; and the lighting is… (ahem) Sinnermatic. For his trouble? 1.2 million views, and 816 gushy comments. And so, maybe boring is perfect.
But sue me, because like @excalibur-w9c, I want more. When Aryna Sabalenka’s on-court intensity translates into campy, self-congratulatory TikToks like this one and this one, harmony is felt and sense is made. But Jannik’s on-court persona, tightly controlled like an unseasoned chicken breast, respectfully, need not be repackaged for YouTube. Because where is the flavor?!
It bears formally announcing that there ARE fun, charming videos of Jannik on the internet. Videos in which he is unshackled from his team’s rigorous engineering. “That’s a rippah,” he says in perfect Australian for his interviewers. His execution is a dulcet emulsion of shy and silly, and follows his polite denial of having a skincare routine as he explodes into giggles. His (Australian) interviewer (with whom he’s on a mock date with for some reason) calls his skindifference a red flag, which Jannik deftly diffuses by cheersing her plastic wine glass and declaring he’ll pick up the check.
I guess it worked on Laila Hasanovic. (Speaking of whom, Jannik is partial to dating blonde model-ish women and fast cars—these are the sensibilities of a man who, surely, can show us something more corrupt less monotonous than ‘What he ate in a day’ or, like, a sweatless practice session against free-to-license lo-fi beats.)
And so, you see, I’m not looking to change the guy. This is an issue of creative direction, not personality.
If Jannik’s YouTube is about spiritual whateverness and seeming twice his age, Priscilla Hon, three years his senior at 27, captains hers with all the chaos of a self-actualized zoomer. In her latest vloggy vlog, she lazes poolside with friend, Amanada Anisimova. Priscilla’s outstretched arm holds the camera shakily as jokes, “we want to be doing this, not running around hitting tennis balls.”
Though she is very good at that, too—scrub to 4:50 for a tutorial on how to hit an exquisite backhand-overhead while, somehow, smiling with the warmth of a thousand suns. (Tangentially: would you rather do your taxes or hit a backhand-overhead in front of your ex?)
Onward, Priscilla tries to form a sentence but can’t, and admits she used to have a bowl cut. There is bad lighting, and there are choppy transitions between her phone’s aspect ratio and a more significant camera. Bless this mess, as it were.
Miss Hon is right not to sand down her personality into something antiseptic and brand-safe. In late February, I caught Priscialla’s first-round match in Merida. It had all the markings of one she wasn’t supposed to win: being the lucky loser; playing against the higher-ranked Renata Zarazua and her home crowd; checking out of the second set after taking the first. And yet, her perseverance and scrappy brilliance made her the eventual winner.
But in her subsequent match against Paolini, I saw floaty, chopped forehands replace her drive variety—I don’t mean when outstretched on the run, but when she had plenty of time to get around the ball; a signifier of low confidence. On both wings, deceleration cost her handsomely. Relatedly, she had a closing problem against Bencic last year at Beijing while up a set and 3-1; from there, walking back some of the aggression that earned her that lead.
She went on to lose to both Paolini and Bencic, who I’m sure can *do things* to a lesser-ranked player—but I can think of a freckled guy with a deep Rolex stack who’d make a fine mentor in mental fortitude. His services may not afford Priscilla an extortionate timepiece, but they will come with a complimentary bracelet:
For his trouble? Priscilla’s crash course in social media authorship. She’ll offer modules such as Learning to resist perfection and The art of acting natural. Jannik will fire his team of doers and start a new content franchise called Yapping with Jannik for which he may need to consume 2-3 standard drinks. His sports psychology efforts with Priscilla will pay off, and we will see her in a quarter final.
Just a first pass at some ideas; I’ll circulate the full deck once populated.
