Australian Open. Roland Garros. Wimbledon. US Open. Each Grand Slam is famous for its surface, aesthetic, and most importantly, atmosphere. Whether it’s the August heat, the clamor of New York City, or the stampede of influencers who couldn’t care less about tennis, one thing is certain: the atmosphere at the US Open is unmatched, and emotions run high.

The 2025 US Open was no exception to the rule; if anything, it raised the bar. It’s only natural that the pandemonium contributes to some strong emotions on the court, but the language media uses to reference on-court eruptions varies starkly by the players’ gender and race. The issue took center stage this year when Jelena Ostapenko faced off against Taylor Townsend. As White and Black women, Ostapenko and Townsend are subject to different levels of scrutiny and favor along the lines of their identity, and this became evident in this year’s media coverage. Ostapenko exploded when she accused opponent and victor Townsend of having “no education” following a second-round elimination. Shouting and red-faced, she didn’t get a rise out of Townsend. 

Despite Ostapenko’s tirade being clearly one-sided, CNN ran the headline: “Why the absence of a common act of tennis sportsmanship led to heated on-court argument at the US Open.” The headline implies that Townsend stooped to the level of her opponent despite refusing to engage in an “argument” whatsoever. Further, the headline leads the reader to believe that Ostapenko’s excuse for the tirade (a missing apology after a point won at the net) is in some way plausible, and not a pathetic excuse for an ugly moment when the mediocre player’s feelings got the better of her.

The difference between Ostapenko and Townsend? Ostapenko’s outburst was, at best, a heat-of-the-moment expression of racialized comments she didn’t mean and, at worst, an ugly unveiling of true colors that became a supposedly two-sided “argument” rooted in tennis etiquette. Townsend, extending a calm hand to congratulate Ostapenko on a “good match” and suggesting that Ostapenko needed to “learn how to take an L”, becomes an equal participant in the so-called argument. 

Of the slew of articles surrounding the situation, most described Ostapenko’s point of view, implying that Townsend was an equal participant or ignored Townsend’s participation altogether. But few praised Townsend for her conduct on the court, much less how she continued to respond when she addressed the issue in the press conferences that followed. When asked about the incident, Townsend said, “You’re not going to insult me, certainly after I carried myself a certain type of way with nothing but respect. And if I show respect to you, I expect respect as well.”

All the bedazzled Labubus, Sincaraz finals, and remarkable match points in the world cannot conceal the ugly misogynoir that mars tennis, the sports world, and our society more broadly. Ostapenko and Townsend are not outliers, but a high-profile example of a consistent trend that sees Angel Reese and Caitlin Clark suffer similar discrepancies. Especially when writing about marginalized communities who already suffer layers of discrimination, the writer has a responsibility to double, triple, and quadruple check that the language they employ, or fail to employ, does not cause further harm.

While the discrepancies in their coverage and language may not be intentional, journalists must make an intentional effort to remove those discrepancies rooted in the systemic inequalities that persist.

Emmy Snyder is a writer dedicated to highlighting stories of community, grit, growth mindset, and athletics. Her undergraduate degree in communication and Spanish from the University of Michigan serves as a foundation for her current work on the research, podcast, and social media teams at the USC Center for PR. She is pursuing a Master in Communication Management degree at USC Annenberg, where she hopes to grow her writing skills and apply them to women’s sports organizations.