Over the fortnight in Indian Wells, as players and fans alike fell away and moved on to other pursuits like a day job or the practice courts at the Miami Open, we at Racquet remained stalwart, watching the ebbs and flows of crowds and weather and wins and losses, like a time-lapse video slowed waaaay down.
Not that we’re complaining: despite bouts of rain and wind and frigid desert nights, sometimes Tennis Paradise was just plain paradise. There were mornings when we awoke to purple mountains sharpened against bright blue California skies, and the scent of sun-lifted grapefruit blossoms in the air. And you can’t overstate the soul-soothing effect of truly great avocado toast.
Given our two-week Tennis Garden residency, we can confidently report that the 2025 tournament went off without a hitch—unless you count swirling winds that sometimes stopped play, but Tennis Paradise can hardly be held accountable for that.
We aimed to give readers a final Oakberry açaí stain count, so we spent a lot of time watching the crowds for what we expected would be scads of purple splotches on shirt fronts, but we never found a single one. Nor barbecue sauce, nor salsa, nor even cheesy dipping sauce. One wonders if the rain ponchos have something to do with this.
On warm afternoons, lines would develop at the Drop Shot cocktail stands. We at Racquet didn’t partake of the yellow cocktail with the garish green float of some alarming liquor—the only floats we do involve lazy rivers—but the signature glass that’s included might have driven some sales: one woman standing in line confessed to wanting the glass despite her aversion to pineapple.
Carlos Alcaraz failed to defend his title—or even reach the final—but he came away from his favorite tournament with a new type of fan: people in bee suits showed up to root for him, a reference to a match last year, when Alcaraz dodged a swarm of bees as they chose to settle on his court. This year, there was no sign of the buzzy friends but Alcaraz fans have embraced yellow and black stripes as a badge of fandom (à la Jannik Sinner’s Carota Boys), and the Spaniard appears to approve. The countdown for a bee-themed nickname starts now. Maybe El Aguijon (the stinger)?
The tournament ended the way it began: perfect skies, perfect temperature, maybe a little breezy. The die-hard fans who’d mobbed the practice courts two weeks previously were replaced by the lucky few tennis-curious, well-dressed holders of Stadium 1 Finals tickets. Whether they understood the spectacle or not, they were on hand to witness history: a changing of the guard as 17-year-old Mirra Andreeva took down world number one Aryna Sabalenka, followed by a long-time-coming Masters 1000 title for Englishman Jack Draper and a heartbreaking loss for Holger Rune.
Late Saturday, BNP Paribas announced they’d be sponsoring the tourney for another five years. Consider this an extension of our stain count and our campaign to change Tsitsidosa to BadAss.
