The court access corridor at Melbourne Park is buried inconspicuously underneath the tournament grounds. A long, spacious walkway, it connects the east and west points of the vast Australian Open venue, allowing competitors to move unaccosted between the courts, player areas and media facilities. Right in the middle of the corridor, a large pair of automatic doors open up to the various private player areas.
Those same doors also lead straight to the entrance of Rod Laver Arena. On Tuesday, in the immediate aftermath of her excruciating 6-1, 6-2 loss to Elina Svitolina, Coco Gauff removed a racket from her bag, exited the double doors into the vacant corridor and up a ramp that she believed was hidden by a wall. She then proceeded to obliterate her racket on the concrete floor. Two days later, the force of that racket smash continues to reverberate around the tour.
Gauff’s release of frustration was actually an act of self-control. Although she desperately needed to vent after such a poor performance, the American waited until she left the court and deliberately chose to shatter her racket in the corridor precisely because she thought no one but a few tournament staff members walking past would witness her frustration. She did not grasp just how widespread cameras are around the grounds. Within minutes broadcasters had picked up the footage and spread it ceaselessly across the internet.
An hour later, Gauff sighed as she addressed her now-public racket smash: “I tried to go somewhere where they wouldn’t broadcast it, but obviously they did,” she said. “So yeah, maybe some conversations can be had, because I feel like at this tournament the only private place we have is the locker room.”
While tennis players tend to disagree on basic issues, Gauff’s colleagues have been unanimous in their concurrence. Novak Djokovic is already resigned to the belief that cameras will only become more invasive over time. “I’m surprised that we have no cameras while we are taking a shower. I mean, that’s probably the next step. I’m against it,” he said.
Jessica Pegula, meanwhile, conveyed the unpleasantness of being constantly followed by cameras: “You’re just kind of going about your day. To feel like someone is constantly filming you, I saw online people were zooming in on players’ phones and stuff like that. That’s so unnecessary. I just think it’s really an invasion of privacy.”
Even as she seethed after a frustrating defeat by Elena Rybakina, Iga Swiatek still managed to express her disapproval: “The question is, are we tennis players or are we animals in the zoo where they are observed even when they poop?”
It is difficult to overstate how widespread the cameras are in the private player areas and media buildings at the Australian Open. They are present in countless corridors, the gyms, match-call area, transport hub and even the media centre. A livestream is broadcast on the tournament’s YouTube channel each day, which devotes hours to showing players navigating these areas in real time.
In a world where popular influencers hold daily streaming marathons and content is king, there is obvious logic to the Big Brotherfication of tennis. Swiatek herself was a subject of one of the semi-viral moments of the tournament after she was denied entry to a restricted area for not having her accreditation.
Tennis fans are interested to know what life looks like for players before they enter the court and these videos do show different sides to the elite. The cameras show players interacting with teams, working through warm-up routines and playfully greeting other players. They are also an asset to the athletes’ public images. Without footage of his interactions with team members, fans might not grasp how playful Jannik Sinner can be with those around him, considering how reserved he can be in public.
To some, players’ huge earnings justify a few cameras following them, as does the growing phenomenon of players attempting to create their own content and employing videographers in restricted areas.
However, there are many instances where their privacy is breached. Pegula’s comments referenced an incident earlier in the tournament where Carlos Alcaraz was absent-mindedly scrolling his phone without realising that the camera behind him had a clear view of his screen. Fans zoomed in, took screenshots of his phone and drew their own conclusions.
The responses from some of the governing bodies have been interesting. The Women’s Tennis Association issued a forceful statement in support of its players, saying: “Players deserve spaces away from competition where they can recover in private.”
Craig Tiley, Tennis Australia’s chief executive, opted for a conciliatory tone. “We want to listen to the players, we want to really understand what their needs and what their wants are,” he told Tennis Channel. “So, that’s the first question we’ll ask: ‘We’ve heard you and whatever adjustments [we] need to make we will make.’”
Perhaps it could have asked some questions before the cameras were installed. The grand slam tournaments so often act unilaterally, imposing their conditions on players rather than consulting them. Regardless of how much they earn, the players deserve to have a say in their working conditions, particularly on a serious issue such as privacy. While they perform for the public on the court, it is completely reasonable for players to argue that not every aspect of their lives should be up for public consumption.
