The often unseen social hierarchy and unwritten rules around practice courts in tennis can reveal a lot about the sport’s underlying dynamics — and sometimes, it’s quite revealing. But here’s where it gets controversial: despite being a sport renowned for its fairness and individual effort, the reality on the practice courts can sometimes be starkly different, with subtle inequalities and unspoken competition impacting players’ experiences.
Imagine a tranquil Wednesday afternoon shortly before the US Open last year. Top players Daniil Medvedev and Alexander Zverev are deeply engaged in an intense practice session at Louis Armstrong Stadium, fine-tuning their skills. Nearby, Danielle Collins and Christian Harrison, both on their way to competing in the mixed doubles semi-finals, arrive promptly for their scheduled training. As they prepare to start, an amusing scene unfolds: Medvedev and Zverev, eager to keep playing, begin to hesitate and deliberate quietly about extending their session despite the designated time being up. They even line up on the baseline again, lingering on the court well past their time, only to eventually concede — giving way to Collins and Harrison, who stood quietly on the sidelines.
While players often train with their rivals throughout the year and maintain a friendly competitive spirit, disputes can sometimes arise over the use of practice courts. One of the most common sources of frustration among players is when a peer extends their session beyond the agreed-upon slot without regard for others waiting. This breaches a kind of unwritten etiquette: don’t monopolize the practice court. Though some players dismiss early extensions as minor and harmless, others view it as a serious breach of respect and professionalism.
Gabriel Diallo, a promising young Canadian ranked No. 41 worldwide, shares his perspective with a broad smile: “Some players really push their time. If it’s supposed to be an hour, they’ll go to 1:05 or 1:10 without a second thought. I tend to avoid conflict because I’m Canadian and prefer peace — I just let it go, maybe too much sometimes.”
Similarly, Coco Gauff offers a lighthearted but practical view: “It’s more common now than in juniors — you notice some players who will push their time two, three, even four minutes over. I personally try to be mindful of the clock. If I’m on court, I check with my coach for the time. I don’t want to be that person who extends beyond their slot. I usually stop about a minute early, especially when courts need cleaning, like on clay.”
Ending a practice session smoothly can be awkward for everyone involved. There’s often a little tension as players try to conclude their routines on time, which is not always a pleasant experience. Emma Raducanu describes her own frustrations: “Most times, I end up double-faulting when I need to finish. That’s happened on a day I actually had a good practice. The pressure of knowing others are waiting — especially if they have a whole team waiting to get on — makes it a funny little ritual. The last point can turn out to be either spectacular or terribly disappointing.”
Courts are a valuable resource at nearly every tournament, and most players don’t get as much time to train as they might desire. Top-ranked players often enjoy better courts and more privileged access compared to those ranked lower, which can stir resentment. Jessica Pegula, who spent much of her career outside the top 100 before breaking through, illustrates this disparity. Reflecting on her earlier days, she recalls: “Back then, I’d be in a park, smelling the weed and all the city’s smells. The practice courts I used were very different — faster, rougher, not as refined as the match courts. Over time, I’ve noticed that as I’ve risen in the rankings, I’ve gained access to better facilities and more favorable court times. Some might say that’s unfair, but I believe you have to earn it.”
When it comes to how players handle others hogging the courts, opinions vary. Pegula suggests most competitors are understanding and flexible but admits she’s not afraid to enforce boundaries when needed. “It’s kind of funny — I walk out, stand around, and say, ‘Your time’s up,’” she explains, mimicking the subtle assertiveness. “You just bounce the ball or stand there waiting, signaling it’s time to switch.”
Gauff echoes this proactive approach when she encounters players taking extra time: “Some people stretch their slot and you start inching closer to the court’s center, signaling subtly that you’re waiting. I don’t mind if players go over their time a little, but it’s respectful to acknowledge it. If someone says, ‘Sorry, I just need a few more serves before my match,’ I get it. But the worst is when players ignore the clock entirely and don’t say a word — then I think, ‘Okay, noted.’”
During the early rounds of the US Open, Cameron Norrie experienced firsthand what it’s like to wait for delaying players, like Novak Djokovic and Alexander Zverev, to finish their session. As the hour wound down, Norrie nudged his trainer, joking: “It was about 59 minutes past. I was trying to get him to pressure them a bit, but he refused.”
Some players adopt a more patient but resigned attitude. Diallo prefers to wait peacefully, although he judges the extra seconds spent on court during his allotted time. “After a while, it’s just ridiculous,” he notes. “If they’re just finishing their serves, that’s fine. I don’t think it affects their game much at that point.” He smiles wistfully, adding, “I just sit and watch, waiting for them to feel satisfied that they’re done — a true Canadian approach, I suppose.”
In the end, the debate around court etiquette and resource management is more than just about scheduling. It reflects broader issues of fairness, respect, and status within the tennis community. Some players, especially those just starting out or lower-ranked, might see the privilege of better courts and longer practice times as a form of unintentional favoritism or even injustice. But the question remains: Should top players always be expected to yield their time, or is it justified by their achievements and status? How do we balance competitiveness with courtesy? And what do you think — is this hierarchy fair, or does it need a complete overhaul? Share your thoughts below — the tennis world is never short of opinions.
