hi anna, i'm watching the jannik matches from ao26 right now (the australian open is at an absolutely atrocious time difference to me, so i'm sticking to VODs rather than live viewing for now), and i couldn't help wondering: has the WTA ever played best-of-five format matches, or have the WTA slams always been bo3? is there ever discussion of switching the ATP slams to bo3 as well?
it's an interesting distinction to me, and i was curious whether there's any of bo5 format matches in women's tennis
hi sevens, it’s a very interesting question, and i totally get why it comes up, especially when you’re watching long men’s slam matches back-to-back and thinking about how different the two formats feel in practice. it’s one of those structural quirks of tennis that’s so normalised that it almost fades into the background, even though it shapes how the sport is experienced in really fundamental ways. and it’s also worth saying up front that the conversation isn’t only about whether women should move up to best-of-five — there’s been just as much discussion, at various points, about whether men should move down to best-of-three, at least in early rounds.
but the short answer is: women’s tennis has played best-of-five before, but only in very limited, historically specific contexts — and never in the modern slam era.
historical reality
at grand slams, women’s singles has overwhelmingly been best-of-three. the one real exception is the u.s. women’s national championships in the 1890s (the ancestor of the us open), where the final round was played best-of-five between 1891 and 1901 under the old challenge-round system. that format disappeared well before the open era and never reappeared at slams.
outside the slams, the most significant modern example is the wta tour championships (now the wta finals): from 1984 to 1998, the final was played best-of-five. that experiment produced some genuinely great matches (graf–seles, graf–hingis, etc.) but was eventually dropped. since then, no regular wta event has used best-of-five.
by contrast, men’s singles at slams has been best-of-five since the sport’s early institutionalisation, and that distinction hardened rather than softened during the open era.
has there been discussion of changing it?
yes — repeatedly — but it’s never gone beyond discussion.
there are two parallel debates:
1. should women play best-of-five at slams?
2. should men instead be reduced to best-of-three (at least in early rounds)?
both come up every few years, usually triggered by scheduling controversies (especially at roland garros), one-sided finals, or broader conversations about equality and workload.
arguments in favour of women’s best-of-five
supporters usually point to three things:
1. competitive depth & narrative
five sets reduce variance, reward endurance and tactical adjustment, and make it harder for matches to be decided by a brief dip or hot streak. advocates argue this would strengthen, not weaken, the women’s game.
2. symbolic and practical equality
as long as one gender plays a “longer” format at the sport’s biggest events, it’s easy for broadcasters and organisers to frame that product as more prestigious or more “serious.”
3. historical precedent exists
the fact that women have played five-set finals before (us championships, wta finals) undermines the idea that it’s inherently impossible or unsafe.
arguments against introducing it (and why these dominate)
these are the reasons tournament organisers consistently fall back on — and why inertia has held.
• scheduling volatility
best-of-five massively increases uncertainty. slams already run near capacity with singles, doubles, mixed, juniors, wheelchair, practice courts, and tv windows. doubling the number of potential five-set matches creates cascading problems, especially at events with weather risk.
• broadcast economics
broadcasters value predictability. a one-match night session that might end in 55 minutes or 5 hours is a hard sell — and this cuts directly into why men’s matches are often favoured for prime slots.
• player welfare & calendar pressure
the modern calendar is already brutal. adding potentially hours per match at four slams runs directly counter to the current push from players (both atp and wta) for workload reduction and injury prevention.
• lack of player consensus
unlike equal prize money — where there was a unified push — opinions among players are split. some are enthusiastic, others openly sceptical about entertainment value and physical toll.
what about switching men to best-of-three?
this idea is actually more common than people realise. proposals usually suggest:
• best-of-three in early rounds,
• best-of-five from quarterfinals onward.
the appeal is that it reduces load without expanding the tournament footprint. the resistance comes mostly from tradition: five-set matches are seen as a defining feature of men’s slam tennis, and organisers are reluctant to dilute that identity.
where things realistically stand
right now, the most plausible changes — if any — would be partial compromises, like:
• women’s finals only being best-of-five, or
• men’s early rounds moving to best-of-three.
a full switch to women’s best-of-five across a 128-player slam draw is generally viewed by organisers as logistically unworkable, even by those sympathetic to the principle. so the distinction you’re noticing isn’t accidental — it’s the result of historical path-dependence, reinforced by modern scheduling and commercial realities rather than by a single clear sporting rationale.
Do you know how easily spot which style a player is? Like baseline, all court, counter puncher etc. I heard that Novak and Carlos are 2 styles at once and I was also wondering how common that is. Idk if it's also possible to change your style depending on the match, season, surface or time in your career? I am guessing not all style combinations are possible at once, I guess some of them are on the opposite ends of the spectrum? If you have any links to videos or sth that explain it all that would be helpful too, thank you in advance!
my dear anon, were you the same one that sent the previous ask? it took me some time to answer it but it covers the part about carlos, novak, and contradicting styles pretty thoroughly in my opinion. let me focus more here on how you can actually spot the individual styles when you’re watching a match. i’ll use the atp’s own classification system since it’s the most detailed one out there.
the atp system
the atp uses system from a company called tennisviz that aggregates five key fundamentals of every player’s game: the type of shot played (they track more than 60 different shot types), the quality of each shot (ranked on a 0-10 scale), the situation of the player (serving, returning, both back, at the net), the phase of play (attack, neutral, defense), and their tactics and patterns of play (7 tactics and 48 patterns of play). 
from all that data, the system looks at four specific things to assign a style: how often the player comes to net vs stays at the baseline and how often they win the point inside the first three shots (their “point profile”), how they typically finish their points — winners, forcing errors, or unforced errors (their “point-ending profile”), the percentage of shots they hit on offense vs defense, and their serve speed. 
this gives them six categories. here’s how to spot each one when you’re watching:
big server
the easiest style to spot. the serve dominates everything. you’ll see aces (serves the opponent can’t touch at all), service winners (serves they touch but can’t return), and points that end in the first two or three shots. on their service games, rallies are short — often the point is basically over after the serve itself. these players tend to be tall (often 6’4” and above) because height gives a mechanical advantage on the serve: more angle, more power, harder to return. the scorecard tells the story too: look for a high ace count and a very high percentage of first-serve points won. the flip side is that when their serve has an off day, they can look surprisingly beatable because the rest of their game isn’t as dominant. you’ll also notice that their return games (when the OPPONENT is serving) often look much weaker than their service games: there’s a big gap between how they play when serving vs returning.
current tour examples: giovanni mpetshi perricard is probably the purest current big server. he set the wimbledon serve-speed record in 2025 with a 246 km/h (153 mph) serve, which is about, and he has been one of the tour’s biggest ace producers. reilly opelka is another classic serve-first case and led the tour in average aces per match in 2025 at roughly 16.1. ben shelton and hubert hurkacz are also heavily serve-dependent, though both have more to their games beyond just the serve. historically, john isner, now retired, was the ultimate example: incredibly tall, huge serve, limited movement.
serve-and-volleyer
visually the most distinctive style because the movement pattern is unique: serve, then immediately sprint toward the net. you’ll see them hit the serve, take a few explosive steps forward, and try to finish the point with a volley (hitting the ball before it bounces on their side). on return games they sometimes do a “chip and charge”: they slice the return back low and rush forward. the rallies are very short, but unlike the big server (who ends points WITH the serve), the serve-and-volleyer ends points at the net with volleys and overheads. you’ll also notice they look uncomfortable if they’re forced to stay at the baseline and trade groundstrokes — long rallies are their enemy. this style is extremely rare on the current tour because modern racket technology and string makes it too easy for baseliners to hit passing shots past a net player.
current tour examples: honestly, there’s almost nobody playing pure serve-and-volley on the current tour. maxime cressy was the last notable serve-and-volleyer, but he stepped away from the tour in 2025 due to persistent back injuries. you’ll still see serve-and-volley used as a tactical weapon — alcaraz does it on big points, federer used to do it on grass — but as someone’s PRIMARY style, it’s essentially extinct in 2026 men’s singles. it’s much more common in doubles, where the net position is more advantageous because there’s less court to cover.
attacking baseliner
the player stands at or just behind the baseline and is clearly the one controlling the rally. the biggest visual cue is aggression: they’re hitting hard, going for big shots, and trying to end points on their terms from the back of the court. they usually have one particularly devastating shot, almost always the forehand, that they build their game around. you’ll see them sometimes running around their backhand to use their forehand even when the ball comes to the “wrong” side. the ball comes off their racket with serious pace and you can often hear it. they take risks, which means they generate a lot of winners but ALSO a lot of unforced errors. their court position tends to be on or inside the baseline: they want to take the ball early and give the opponent less time to react. they’re not usually comfortable at the net and won’t come forward voluntarily unless they’ve already hit a shot that has their opponent scrambling.
current tour examples: jannik sinner is the clearest modern attacking baseliner, overwhelming opponents with clean timing and heavy ball-striking from the back of the court. andrey rublev is another obvious example, built around relentless baseline aggression and a huge forehand. among younger players, jakub mensik is almost self-described as a very aggressive baseliner, and joao fonseca is emerging in a similar mold. 
solid baseliner
this looks similar to the attacking baseliner at first glance, they’re also operating from the baseline, but the energy and rhythm are different. the solid baseliner is more patient, more balanced between offense and defense. they don’t go for broke on every ball. they’re happy to rally, they make fewer unforced errors, and they’ll shift between attacking and defending depending on what the point gives them. visual cues: they often stand slightly further behind the baseline than an attacking baseliner, giving themselves more reaction time. their shots have more margin: higher over the net, more topspin for safety. the rallies tend to be longer. they won’t produce as many “how did they hit THAT” moments, but they also won’t randomly gift you free points. they’re the player who makes you earn everything. the key difference from an attacking baseliner is patience — they’re fine with building a point slowly and waiting for the right ball to attack, whereas the attacking baseliner wants to dictate from shot one.
current tour examples: medvedev is the clearest example, with atp classifying him as a hybrid of big server and solid baseliner. cameron norrie also fits here, even if he mixes in a bit more variety than the label suggests. tommy paul is another strong example, balanced and patient from the back of the court, and hard to hit through cleanly. among younger players, flavio cobolli belongs here too, comfortable defending for long stretches and turning defense into offense.
counterpuncher
the human wall. the player who makes you feel like no matter what you hit, the ball is coming back. the visual cues are distinctive: they stand well behind the baseline, sometimes to 1.5 m (3 to 5 feet) back, giving themselves maximum time to react. their game is based on great side-to-side movement and stroke consistency — they move laterally 60 to 80 % of the time. you’ll see them reaching shots you thought were winners, sliding into impossible positions, and just… getting everything back. they rarely go for big shots themselves. the rallies are long, sometimes absurdly long. their unforced error count is very low because they’re not taking risks. the opponent often looks increasingly frustrated as the match goes on, because nothing they hit seems to work. the other emotional tell is that counterpunchers tend to thrive in long matches: they have exceptional fitness and actually get BETTER as the match drags on while the opponent fades.
current tour examples: alex de minaur is the clearest current counterpuncher at the top of the game, built on elite speed, retrieval, and the ability to turn defence into attack at the right moment. yoshihito nishioka is still a classic lower-ranked example, small, extremely quick, and built around making opponents hit one extra ball. pure counterpunchers are rarer than they used to be, though, because many modern players in this lane are really hybrids rather than full-time defensive specialists.
all-court player
the hardest to pin down because the whole point is that they don’t have one pattern. it’s difficult to develop a strategy against the all-court player because they’re prepared for almost every situation. the visual giveaway is variety and unpredictability: if you’re watching someone and their game looks genuinely different from point to point, that’s your all-court player. one rally they’re grinding from the baseline. next point they rush the net behind a big serve. then a disguised drop shot. then a defensive retrieve that turns into an attacking winner. they seem to have every shot in the book and they pick whichever one fits the moment. they can have a plan a going into a match, and if it’s not working, they switch to a plan b or c — other types of player don’t usually have plan b. the other cue is adaptability across matches: if you watch the same all-court player against different opponents, their game can look noticeably different each time because they’re adjusting their tactics.
current tour examples: carlos alcaraz is the current all-court player example — aggressive baseline game, devastating drop shot, serves-and-volleys on big points, counterpunches when pushed deep, incredible variety. grigor dimitrov has always been a classic all-court player — gorgeous all-around game, comfortable everywhere. holger rune fits here too — aggressive but with real variety and a willingness to come forward. and peak novak djokovic is the historical gold standard — his ability to be an attacking baseliner, a counterpuncher, and an all-court player depending on what the match required is a huge part of why he won 24 slams.
quick spotting guide
honestly, if you’re just getting started watching tennis, the fastest way to identify a style is to ask yourself three questions while watching:
1. where does the player spend most of their time? (behind the baseline = some kind of baseliner. at the net a lot = serve-and-volleyer or all-court. moves everywhere = all-court.)
2. are they the one attacking or the one defending most of the time? (attacking from the back = attacking baseliner. defending from the back = counterpuncher. balanced = solid baseliner. varies point to point = all-court.)
3. how long are the rallies on their service games? (very short, 1-3 shots = big server or serve-and-volleyer. medium = attacking baseliner. long = counterpuncher or solid baseliner.)
those three questions will get you to the right answer like 80% of the time.
resources to learn more
for a broader overview of styles with strategies on how to beat each one, the articles on playo.co (“top four tennis playing styles”) and tennislifemag.com (“the 4 styles of tennis play and key strategies to beat them”) are both solid and written for people who aren’t tennis experts.
for audio, essential tennis podcast episode 117 (“are you born with your tennis playing style?”) is a great listen — the host walks through each style, gives pro examples, and talks about how players develop and change styles over time.
for data nerds, the harvard sports analysis collective published a really interesting piece called “sorting strokes: classifying tennis players based on stats and style” where they used statistical clustering to objectively group atp players into style categories using actual match data.
and honestly the single best way to learn is to just watch matches with these categories in mind. once you have the framework, you’ll start spotting styles within the first few games of any match. it becomes almost automatic pretty quickly.
I love jannik but part of it is money right? appearance fees gotta be high for a top player like him
oh anon, we can absolutely joke about jannik being a little money-motivated sometimes, but this is actually the one situation where the “he’s here for the appearance fee” theory doesn’t really survive contact with the rulebook.
atp appearance fees are only allowed at 250s and 500s, and even there they’re technically framed as “promotional service fees.” masters 1000 events like indian wells aren’t allowed to pay appearance fees at all unless the atp gives a special exemption and there’s zero indication that’s happening here.
so if jannik is playing doubles at indian wells, the money involved is just the same doubles prize money everyone else in the draw gets. no secret envelope labeled “thanks for being famous.” which means, tragically for the conspiracy theorists, the explanation is probably the boring one: extra reps, working on returns and volleys, and hitting with a buddy.
so yes, we can keep the running joke that jannik likes money… just maybe not at the one event where the rules literally say he can’t get paid to show up.
Hi Anna! Do you know if its common to switch serve stances during the match? Like first serve pinpoint and the second platform? Is this typical? And which players do that? Thanks!!
my dear anon, the short answer: no, it’s not something that is happening. there are no top players who routinely do it. the reason is biomechanical and it’s also not advisable coaching practice in general. however, when looking at what is happening on court during a match, several things can create the perception of stance switching even when it’s not actually occurring.
why switching stances point-to-point is biomechanically problematic
the serve’s kinetic chain transfers energy sequentially from the ground through the legs, hips, trunk, shoulder, arm, and racket. the stance is the entry point of that entire chain. it determines how ground reaction forces are generated, how weight transfers, how the loading phase is timed, and how the body coils before acceleration. research on the topic shows that the foot-up (pinpoint) stance generates significantly higher vertical ground reaction forces and a higher contact point, while the foot-back (platform) gives a wider, more stable base of support.
these aren’t cosmetic differences. they produce fundamentally different loading sequences, different leg drive timing, and different momentum profiles through the acceleration phase. the motor pattern for each is deeply grooved through thousands of repetitions. switching between two different kinetic chain entry points within a single service game would mean alternating between two distinct neuromuscular timing sequences, two different balance profiles, and two different weight transfer patterns. the serve is already the most complex stroke in tennis. running two parallel motor programs for it in the majority of cases would certainly degrade consistency rather than enhance it.
what can create the perception of switching
1) the hybrid stance
most players categorised as “pinpoint” on tour don’t use a pure pinpoint where both feet come together. the majority use a hybrid where the feet start apart and the back foot slides partway forward during the motion. sinner and zverev are good examples. within that hybrid, the degree of back foot slide varies naturally from serve to serve. on a big flat first serve where the player is seeking maximum vertical ground reaction force, the foot might come further forward to allow both legs to push as a single unit. on a safer kick second serve, which requires more upward and lateral brushing action, the slide might be shorter and less pronounced. this isn’t a deliberate stance switch. it’s natural variation in the amplitude of the same motor pattern. but on camera it can look like pinpoint on one point and platform on the next.
looking at stills taken from the exact same court position and camera angle makes the differences way easier to see, because it takes out a lot of the visual distortion you get from changing broadcast angles.
alcaraz vs sinner vs fritz serve stance during 6 kings slam 2025
from that same baseline view, alcaraz looks like a pure pinpoint server, with the feet fully together and a very narrow base; sinner looks like a hybrid pinpoint, with the back foot coming forward but still leaving some space between the feet; and fritz looks like a clear platform server, with the feet about shoulder-width apart and the back foot basically staying where it is. side by side, the contrast is pretty obvious. but sinner’s hybrid sits in that grey area: on one serve, if the back foot slides a bit farther, it reads as pinpoint; on the next, if it slides a bit less, it can read as platform. from a tv broadcast that keeps cutting between angles, the same player can end up looking like two different kinds of server from point to point, even though the underlying motion hasn’t actually changed.
2) deuce vs ad court geometric adjustments
players naturally adjust their foot positioning and body alignment depending on which side of the court they’re serving from. the front foot sits at a more open angle on the deuce side, the feet are narrower apart, and the upper torso rotates through a greater range of motion before impact — especially among platform stance players. on the ad side, the front foot closes up, the feet spread wider, and the torso doesn’t need to travel as far. these differences are small but consistent across players.
the reason is simple geometry. the server is aiming at a diagonally opposite service box from two different positions, so the body’s relationship to the target changes between sides. the front foot angle and hip alignment shift to accommodate that. players make these adjustments naturally, but not enough to fully compensate for the changed geometry. this is part of why the serving motion never looks quite identical from both sides, even when the player is doing the same thing mechanically.
some coaches actively teach this as something players should exaggerate deliberately rather than leave to instinct. the teaching frames front foot adjustment as a tactical lever: angling the front foot more toward the net opens the hips and makes it easier to swing around the ball for a wide slice serve, while keeping the foot more parallel to the baseline keeps the body more coiled for a kick serve. the idea is to favour whichever serve type is most valuable on each side. other coaches treat it more lightly — a small tweak of 15–20 degrees between sides, nothing more. but the kinetic chain entry point doesn’t change. the back foot behaviour, weight transfer pattern, and loading sequence all remain the same.
on camera, though, the different foot angles and body orientations between deuce and ad points can look like a player is changing their entire motion when they’re simply adjusting their alignment to the target, and this visual difference gets amplified by broadcast camera positions. compare djokovic serving from the deuce side and the ad side during the australian open against musetti.
djokovic serving from the deuce side (above) and from the ad side (below) during his australian open 2026 quarter-final against lorenzo musetti
on the deuce side, filmed from further behind the baseline, the body looks more turned away from the camera, the feet appear to sit wider apart, and the whole motion seems more explosive and open. on the ad side, filmed from a closer side-on angle, his front foot angle is more visible, the stance width looks moderate, and the body’s turn appears more contained. side by side, it almost looks like two different serving motions. but much of that difference is the camera geometry compounding the real geometric adjustments, not the player changing his mechanics. the behind-the-baseline angle on the deuce side foreshortens the lateral distance between the feet and makes any back-foot drift toward the front foot far more visible. djokovic does allow his back foot to slide slightly forward during loading — a mild platform-hybrid movement that’s consistent across both sides — but from the rear camera angle on the deuce side, that drift looks almost like a full pinpoint step-up. from the side-on ad-side angle, the same movement is barely perceptible. it’s one motion with the front foot angle adjusted for the target geometry, viewed through two very different camera positions that exaggerate the apparent differences.
3) energy and effort differences between first and second serves
a flat first serve aimed at maximum velocity involves deeper knee flexion, more explosive leg extension, and greater forward body launch. a kick second serve prioritises upward brushing action, tighter body rotation, and a more arched back at contact. the stance foundation stays the same, but the forces driven through it are different in magnitude and direction. the differences between first and second serves happen from the trophy position upward (toss placement, racket path, pronation angle, contact point) rather than at the feet. but the visual difference in effort and body language can create the impression that the stance itself has changed.
what the coaching practice and real-world examples tell
the broader coaching consensus is that experimentation with different stances is valuable during practice, but the goal is always to settle on one motion that works for your body, your game, and across an entire match. the serve is a deeply grooved motor pattern built on thousands of repetitions. coaches and players who have tested multiple stances consistently report trade-offs that make alternating impractical: pinpoint tends to give more raw power on flat serves but at the cost of spin control and kick serve quality. platform with heavy leg drive works well when fresh but can break down under fatigue, at which point the shoulder compensates for what the legs can no longer provide. the answer is to find the single best compromise, not to toggle between two different kinetic chain patterns.
the clearest real-world illustration of why suddden stance changes are risky comes from stefanos tsitsipas. he had been a platform server his entire professional career and was ranked second on tour in hold percentage in 2023. then, just days before the 2024 australian open, he switched to a pinpoint stance and debuted it against zizou bergs in the first round. it is very unusual and risky for a top 10 player to introduce a new base mechanic at a grand slam. tsitsipas himself called it “tactical” and said he’d only been trialling it over the past few days. the results were telling: he landed just 46% of first serves in the opening set and described it as feeling like his worst first serve percentage ever. he improved later in the match as he drifted back toward his familiar motion, but the disruption was visible.
by may 2024, tsitsipas had abandoned the experiment entirely and returned to his platform stance. he described the tinkering as something that took a mental toll, broke his rhythm, and led to overthinking. he said he’d been trying different things during the match, but such changes are not something that he recommends and that the platform stance was part of his identity as the player. the whole episode, from experimentation through disruption to abandonment, lasted about four months. even a player with elite body control couldn’t make a sudden stance change work. this tells you how difficult and disruptive altering the kinetic chain entry point is at this level.
the actual pro pattern
players pick one base stance and build their entire serve around it. they then differentiate between first and second serves by varying what happens above the foundation: toss placement, racket path, spin axis, contact point, and swing speed. the stance type stays constant. major differences between serve types occur higher in the kinetic chain, primarily at the racket face angle as determined by forearm pronation and shoulder internal rotation. there can be small adjustments in front foot angle and toss position, particularly on first serves when targeting different locations, but the base motor pattern and the kinetic chain entry point remain the same.
when stance changes do happen at the pro level, they happen across weeks or months as deliberate technical overhauls. jannik sinner went from platform to pinpoint (2018), back to platform (2021), and then back to pinpoint again (mid-2023), each time to address power generation and overall efficiency. madison keys switched from platform to pinpoint in late 2024 to reduce physical strain and improve longevity, and as she won the australian open 2025 shortly after, the change stuck. jack draper recently switched from pinpoint to platform in 2026 after his arm injury, with the explicit goal of reducing cumulative stress on the serving arm and preventing further issues. these are carefully planned reconstructions of the entire motor pattern, not in-match adjustments.
source list
tsitsipas serves notice after early stumble. australian open. https://ausopen.com/articles/news/tsitsipas-serves-notice-after-early-stumble
‘new heights’ with stefanos tsitsipas. tennis.com. https://www.tennis.com/news/articles/new-heights-with-stefanos-tsitsipas
disclaimer: i am not a tennis professional. gifs used here were created by me.
hi anna! i'm not sure if this question has an absolute answer, but i figured i might as well run it by you.
when it comes to the player names in the bottom left of the screen, is there a specific order to which player is listed top or bottom? for example, i have seen sinner's name at the bottom more often than not. is it just a coincidence, or is there a system in the sport?
my dear anon, the general rule is that the order on the scoreboard is a direct transfer from the tournament draw sheet. whichever player is physically listed higher on the draw is listed first and appears on the top line of the scoreboard.
seeding plays an indirect role in this. the no. 1 seed is automatically placed at the top of the draw and the no. 2 seed at the bottom, which is why they can only meet in the final. as a result, the top seed will always appear first on the scoreboard, while the second seed will always appear second. for everyone else, the order simply follows the structure of the draw. it has nothing to do with rankings, head-to-head records, nationality, or recent results. it is purely determined by draw position.
if you look at the berlin open 2026 draw, jessica won her match today and whoever she plays tomorrow, she will be listed on the bottom line of the scoreboard because her draw position is below her opponent’s.
With the news of Jannik playing doubles with Opelka in Miami, I had a doubles related question. Why do the top players in WTA play more doubles and are also successful than in the ATP? Does the way women play make it more suitable for them to play both singles and doubles without changing their styles too much and be successful at both? Also, why do players like Jannik sign up for random doubles at some events? Is it to get some more practice/ play time in?
Thank you in advance!
hiii, i am doing good. and i believe that jannik and opelka are supposed to play in indian wells together. but anyway, this is a very interesting topic. there are a couple of structural reasons, from my perspective, why you see more top singles players on the wta successfully “double up” than you do on the atp, and they mostly come down to workload, incentives, and what modern doubles rewards.
1) the workload math is different, so doubles is a more rational “add-on” for many wta contenders.
at the biggest events, the marginal cost of extra matches really matters. men’s singles at majors is best-of-five, which increases both time on court and the recovery burden across a deep run. that makes doubles the first thing to drop because it’s optional: if your primary goal is to win singles, you protect your recovery window. women’s singles is best-of-three, so even though the tour schedule is very demanding, “the fatigue tax” from a long singles run is typically lower, which makes it easier to justify adding a doubles match or two without compromising singles as much.
2) modern men’s singles is more serve/hold-dominant, and that changes how it translates to doubles.
men’s tennis has become more first-strike and serve-driven, so you see fewer service breaks and more sets trending toward tiebreak dynamics. doubles compresses time and space even further: a net player can cut off patterns that work in singles, and returns, first volleys, and poaches become disproportionately important. that means a top men’s singles player stepping into doubles is often entering a game that rewards very specific repetitions — return positioning against huge serves, coordinated patterns, and fast net exchanges — and those aren’t always the core things their singles training focuses on.
on the women’s side, where singles is generally less dominated by serve holds and return games matter more, there can be a smoother overlap. strong returning, passing, lobs, and using angles under pressure are already central to winning singles points, and those skills transfer well to doubles. it’s not that women don’t need to adjust, doubles still requires different positioning and decision-making, but the gap between elite singles patterns and elite doubles patterns can be smaller.
3) the specialist moat is deeper in men’s doubles, so casual participation is harder to turn into results.
elite men’s doubles is highly structured and optimized, and it’s dominated by dedicated teams who train it as their primary craft. with modern scoring formats like no-ad games and match tiebreaks, there are fewer neutral points, and matches often come down to just a handful of moments. that rewards teams with rehearsed patterns, clear roles, and strong communication under pressure. the result is that a singles player can absolutely enter and win matches, but it’s much harder to be consistently successful without investing real time in doubles-specific habits.
women’s doubles also has specialists, of course, but historically there has been more crossover. more top singles players choose to play, and enough of them have the skill overlap to win big. that reinforces the culture loop: if singles stars see other singles stars succeeding, they’re more likely to treat doubles as a viable add-on rather than a distraction.
4) doubles is deliberately time-capped, but men and women don’t use it equally often.
both tours use formats designed to keep doubles shorter and easier to schedule (no-ad scoring and match tiebreaks). that makes it attractive as competitive reps rather than a full second campaign. players can use doubles to sharpen:
• return precision
• first-volley and half-volley reactions
• transition footwork and taking the ball early
• serving patterns and first-ball discipline
• and match nerves without the full psychological load of singles.
men do use doubles this way too — you often see it early in a tournament, after time off, or when a player wants extra match rhythm. the reason it shows up less at the very top of the atp mostly goes back to the earlier points: heavier singles workload, a stronger specialist ecosystem in men’s doubles, and a bigger opportunity cost when singles is the clear priority.
5) the money and title math also matters and it can push wta players toward doubles more than atp players.
singles still dwarfs doubles financially at most events, and doubles prize money is split between two players. for a top atp singles star, the extra upside often isn’t worth the added load and risk. but for many players outside the very top, and this is where the wta effect can be stronger, doubles can materially move the needle. if your singles results (or prize pool at that level) aren’t generating huge weekly earnings, a couple of doubles wins can be meaningful extra income during a week where travel costs are already covered.
the men’s tour also has more top-heavy earning power in singles and endorsements, which makes the relative value of an extra revenue stream lower for elite atp players. on the women’s side, more players have a reason to treat doubles as both development and a practical earning tool, which also increases the number of top singles players who keep doubles in their schedule and become good at it.
so money is rarely the only driver, but it’s a real supporting factor, especially for players who aren’t consistently making deep singles runs.
6) why someone like jannik signs up for “random” doubles
when a top singles player like jannik enters doubles at an event like indian wells or miami, it’s almost never random. it’s usually a calculated decision based on performance optimization, scheduling realities, and risk management. the main reasons typically include:
a) competitive match rhythm — especially at two-week masters events
at masters 1000 events, top seeds receive a first-round bye in singles. that means they may spend 4–6 days at the tournament before playing their first real singles match. in the early rounds of these tournaments, you also play matches every second day. practice sessions, even intense ones, can’t fully replicate the physiological and mental stress of competition — decision-making under pressure, reacting to unpredictable patterns, and managing scoreboard tension.
entering doubles allows a player to simulate real match intensity without compromising singles. this is especially useful for maintaining return timing, adjusting to court speed and conditions, and fine-tuning movement. for rhythm-dependent players like jannik, these competitive reps are extremely valuable.
b) targeted technical development
doubles forces repeated exposure to situations that are less frequent in singles but still critical, including:
• return precision against huge serves
• fast reaction exchanges at the net
• transition play and first-volley execution
• tactical awareness of positioning and angles
these situations happen more often in doubles, which compresses skill development into a shorter period. for baseline-dominant players like sinner, doubles helps reinforce net instincts and early ball-taking without restructuring their entire singles game. and we know he’s actively sharpening his net play, so that’s most likely a major reason.
c) low marginal cost due to time-capped formats
modern doubles is designed to minimize match length and scheduling disruption. no-ad scoring and match tiebreaks reduce both physical load and time commitment. this allows players to gain meaningful competitive reps without significantly increasing fatigue risk. doubles also involves less court coverage per player, reducing overall physical strain while still providing valuable competitive stimulus.
d) schedule flexibility and risk management
entering doubles doesn’t mean a player has to finish it. withdrawals are common if singles priorities shift, fatigue builds, or minor injuries appear. this creates asymmetrical risk: the upside is meaningful, while the downside can be managed. strategically, that makes doubles a low-risk, high-upside decision.
e) environmental adaptation
conditions vary across tournaments: court speed, bounce, humidity, ball type, and altitude all affect timing. doubles provides extra live exposure to those exact conditions, helping players adapt faster. this is especially relevant at events like indian wells and miami, where court characteristics differ subtly from other hard-court tournaments.
f) psychological benefits
doubles carries less individual psychological burden because responsibility is shared. that allows players to stay competitive with less stress, maintain confidence, and avoid mental stagnation during long tournament weeks. it also adds variety and enjoyment, which helps sustain motivation over a long season.
g) partner and contextual factors
sometimes the decision is simply practical. a friend, compatriot, or compatible partner is available, and schedules align. familiarity makes the experience productive and enjoyable.
in jannik’s case, as funny as it sounds to some people, opelka is actually a very valuable doubles partner. his serve profile creates ideal development conditions for jannik while still being structurally effective in doubles. but that’s a separate topic, and i can elaborate on it in another post if anyone is interested.
to sum it up
wta top players play doubles more and tend to succeed at it because the cost–benefit balance is generally more favorable. the singles workload is slightly more manageable, the skill overlap is stronger, crossover is more realistic, and for many players the economic upside is more meaningful. top atp players still use doubles as a development tool at times, but less often, because the risk–reward balance is harsher and the specialist level is higher.
Hello good evening! What it means to be a metronomic player? And apparently there are various forehand shapes? What does it mean? Thanks a lot!!!
my dear anon, i’m going to assume the first question is about jannik, since he’s one of the clearest examples of what people mean when they call someone a metronomic player on the current tour. the answer below the cut.
why jannik can be classified as a metronomic player
a metronome produces sound at a uniform interval. a metronomic tennis player works in much the same way: there’s a steady internal rhythm governing timing, contact, and shot selection from stroke to stroke, creating a very narrow and repeatable band of outcomes. jannik sinner is about as clear an example of that as you’ll find.
the foundation of jannik’s game is timing. everything in his tennis is built around an early-ball contact profile. he takes the ball early, meets it at the right moment, and steals time from opponents almost by default. this isn’t occasional aggression or some change of pace he reaches for in certain moments; it’s the basic setting of his game. jannik’s contact point stays consistently well in front of his body, whether he’s perfectly balanced or still moving into the shot. that consistency at contact is really the mechanical signature of a metronomic player. the swing keeps arriving in almost the same place relative to the body over and over again, which means the timing window he operates in is both very narrow and very deeply grooved.
most players show a lot more speed variance depending on the situation, the surface, or the match context. jannik, by contrast, plays with a timing system that doesn’t seem to fluctuate much under changing conditions. that’s what makes him feel so metronomic: the rhythm holds. the output stays remarkably stable and that only happens when the underlying system is extremely repeatable. jannik’s swing also stays loose and rhythmic under pressure, which lets him keep his racket-head speed in moments where most players tighten up and start producing shorter or less controlled balls. that’s a central feature of the metronomic archetype: the rhythm doesn’t break when the stakes go up.
but being metronomic doesn’t mean being limited. with jannik, it’s really the opposite. the system produces elite-level output precisely because the rhythm is so locked in. his forehand technique is biomechanically demanding, requiring huge strength and exceptional timing, especially with that late whip of the racket into position just before contact. the fact that he can repeat that motion so cleanly and so often is what makes his consistency so very impressive. the metronomic quality is what allows a difficult motion to hold up at tour-leading level across thousands of shots in a tournament.
that’s also why jannik can feel so relentless from the baseline. he hits the ball flat and deep, keeps the pressure on, and suffocates opponents through the steady repetition of pace, depth, and timing. that’s really a description of the architecture of his game built on rhythmic regularity, timing precision, and a narrow output band that maximizes reliability. the trade-off is that, against an opponent with enough variety, that regularity can become a little predictable, which is exactly why jannik has talked about needing to expand his repertoire. but the metronomic core is still the engine of everything he does, with everything else built around it.
what do different forehand shapes mean
the forehand is not one shot. it’s a family of shots that share the same basic mechanic — dominant hand, swinging across the body — but produce very different outcomes depending on how several variables are combined.
grip is the foundation because it determines the default angle of the racket face at contact, which sets the boundaries of what shapes are naturally available. the main forehand grips sit on a spectrum defined by where the base knuckle of the index finger sits on the handle, which has eight sides called bevels.
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the eastern grip produces a face angle closer to vertical at contact, making flatter driven shots the path of least resistance. the semi-western, the most common grip on the professional tour, rotates the hand one bevel further underneath, tilting the face slightly closed so that brushing up the back of the ball for topspin becomes more natural while still allowing the player to flatten out for pace. the western grip goes further again, closing the face enough that extreme topspin becomes the default output but low balls and flat shots become much harder to execute. most players also make small grip adjustments within rallies depending on the ball height and the shape they want, but the base grip defines the zone they operate in and how much adjustment is required to step outside it.
spin is probably the most important shot-to-shot variable within whatever zone the grip allows. brushing up the back of the ball creates topspin, which makes the ball dip faster during flight and then kick up high after the bounce, pushing the opponent back. the reason topspin dominates the modern game is that it lets players aim higher over the net while still bringing the ball down inside the baseline, giving them a much wider margin for error. cutting underneath the ball produces slice or backspin, which keeps the ball low, makes it float longer through the air, and skid after landing. hitting straight through the ball with minimal spin produces a flat shot, which travels fastest but leaves the narrowest margin between clearing the net and landing inside the court. players can also apply sidespin by adjusting the angle of the racket path, curving the ball laterally — a tool used particularly on inside-out forehands and approach shots.
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direction is the next layer. crosscourt sends the ball diagonally, which is the highest-percentage option because the net is two inches lower at the centre strap than at the posts and the court is longer on the diagonal. down the line sends it straight, which changes the geometry of the rally and can wrong-foot an opponent. inside-out is when a player runs around their weaker side to hit a forehand at an angle back across the court, a pattern used heavily by players with dominant forehands. the inside-in forehand, where a player runs around the backhand to hit a forehand down the line instead, is a different shape again with its own risk-reward profile and is a key weapon for players like sinner.
height and depth of trajectory create further variation. a heavy looping ball that clears the net by several feet and lands near the baseline is a very different proposition from a low driven ball that barely clears the net. a short angled ball that pulls the opponent wide and off the court is another shape entirely. these choices affect not just where the ball lands but how much time the opponent has to react and at what height they have to play their next shot.
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timing of contact relative to the bounce changes the character of the shot even when the swing itself is similar. taking the ball early on the rise rushes the opponent and flattens the exchange. hitting it at the apex, the top of the bounce, gives a predictable ball height to work with and suits many players’ preferred strike zone. letting it drop and hitting it later allows for more spin and angle but gives the opponent more time to recover. the best timing choice depends on context: on clay, where the ball bounces higher and slower, players often let the ball drop to find the right contact height for heavy topspin. on grass, where the bounce is low and fast, players are often forced to take it on the rise because the apex happens too low and too quickly.
stance and body position also shape the outcome. an open stance, where both feet are roughly parallel to the baseline, is the dominant position for forehands on the modern tour — the vast majority of professional forehands are hit this way. it allows for greater trunk rotation, which is the primary power source in the modern forehand, and permits faster recovery back to position. a neutral or closed stance, where the player steps into the shot, generates more forward weight transfer and is used in specific situations: approaching the net, handling low balls, or when a player has time to set up and drive through the court.
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the combinations of these variables is what is meant by different “shapes.” each distinct pairing of grip, spin, direction, trajectory, timing, and stance produces a different ball flight, a different bounce, and a different tactical problem for the opponent. the more shapes a player can access reliably, the harder they are to read and the more tools they have to solve different situations during a point.
Hey Anna: This may or may not be a stupid tennis statistic question.
At the Australian Open (AO26) for each set - they flash up set statistics. They are highlighting « total distance » as the last stat at the bottom of the screen.
They seem to be yellow highlighting the player who covered more distance (greater number of metres) as a positive stat.
However, wouldn’t the player who covered less total distance in each set have the advantage? It would mean that potentially they served more aces, dealt more lethallity from the baseline, etc. And if they covered less total distance, they probably expended less energy overall.
That’s my take on it - can you explain AO26´s?
Thanks!
my dear anon, there is no such thing as a stupid question, especially when it cuts straight to how modern tennis broadcasts can shape the way we interpret the game. what you’re really circling here is the growing gap between what modern tennis analytics can measure and what a broadcast graphic encourages the viewer to believe. when the ao flashes up “total distance” at the end of a set and visually singles out the player who ran more, it creates the impression that covering more ground is a marker of superiority. but at the professional level, tennis is rarely won by who works hardest. it is usually won by who controls space, time, and point length most efficiently.
the distance stat itself is neutral. it simply counts how many metres a player moves while the ball is live. it has no awareness of whether those metres came from being dragged corner to corner, from absorbing pressure and counterpunching successfully, from standing deep and grinding, or from being forced into constant recovery because the opponent is dictating. likewise, a lower distance total can be the fingerprint of authority through big serving, first strike tennis, and court positioning, or it can just as easily reflect early errors and short points going the wrong way.
that is why your instinct about efficiency, baseline dominance, aces, and energy expenditure is exactly the right place to start. distance is not a verdict on who is playing better tennis. it is a workload trace of how the set unfolded. interpreting it properly means unpacking where those metres came from, what kind of points produced them, and who was actually in control of the geometry of the court.
with that in mind, let’s dive into how the ao distance stat is actually defined, how it is generated, and how it should and should not be read.
1. definition: what ao means by “total distance”
at the australian open’s advanced-stats layer, “total distance” = the total metres a player covers during points (i.e., ball-in-play movement). it’s not “how much they wandered around for towels,” and it’s usually presented per set because that’s an easy broadcast unit for context. (ao’s own explainer language is essentially “distance covered during points.”)
so mathematically: total distance (set) = σ over all ball-in-play frames of instantaneous player displacement. and it is a descriptive metric: it describes movement volume, not “quality.”
2. where the ao number comes from
ao’s distance stats are produced from court tracking infrastructure + analytics packaging.
2.1 raw tracking layer (measurement)
ao uses optical tracking on courts (the same ecosystem that underpins ball tracking/line calling). modern optical systems can track:
• player position (x,y on court) many times per second
• ball position likewise.
2.2 derived metrics layer (transformation)
from the time series of player positions:
• compute distance between consecutive samples
• sum those distances during ball-in-play windows
• output per set / per match.
2.3 broadcast stats layer (presentation)
a partnership group (tennis australia’s insight/analytics function, working with research partners) curates which metrics become “tv stats.” distance is popular because it’s:
• intuitive (“they ran a lot”)
• visualizable
• emotionally legible (“this set was physical”)
so: tracking → computation → packaging → broadcast graphic.
3. interpretation: what “more distance” can legitimately indicate
distance is basically work volume. higher distance in a set can mean any combination of:
a) longer rallies / more ball-in-play time
if rallies are longer, players simply accumulate more metres. key driver: rally length distribution.
b) defensive load (being moved)
if player a is constantly on the stretch, a will often run more. key driver: who controls court geometry (depth/angle).
c) a “retriever” game plan that’s working
a counterpuncher can run more and win, because they:
• tolerate being moved
• extend rallies
• win later in the point
so higher distance can signal successful absorption of pressure.
d) a tactical shift (e.g., returning position)
if someone is standing deeper, or getting pushed back, their movement profile changes:
• more distance to recover
• more lateral + backward travel
e) physical intensity cue (audience-facing)
even when it doesn’t predict winning, it’s a credible cue for:
• “this set was demanding”
• “this player is grinding/defending like mad”
distance is a good narrative stat for physicality.
4. your claim: “wouldn’t less distance be the advantage?”
often, yes — but only under specific conditions. here’s the clean logic.
4.1 “less distance” can mean “dominance” if…
less distance tends to look like advantage when it co-occurs with dictation:
• more unreturned serves / aces (points end fast)
• more +1 control (serve + first groundstroke dictates)
• better court positioning (living on/near the baseline, taking time away)
• forcing the opponent into larger, reactive movement
in that world, “less distance” is a symptom of:
• shorter points
• better positioning
• opponent doing the running
so your intuition maps to a real mechanism:
efficient domination → reduced movement requirement.
4.2 “less distance” can also mean something neutral or bad
this is the part broadcasts rarely spell out.
a player can run less because:
• they’re making early errors (points end quickly against them)
• they’re not reaching balls they could reach (fatigue/injury/slow reaction)
• they’re playing low-mobility tactics (standing farther back and not changing direction much)
• the opponent is missing quickly (free points) — which helps but isn’t “skill in the rally”
so: low distance is ambiguous without point context.
4.3 the core issue: distance is not directional
distance ignores why you moved:
• proactive movement (to attack) vs reactive (to defend)
• efficient movement (small, early steps) vs inefficient (late, big sprints)
• movement quality (timing/balance) vs pure quantity
distance is scalar volume, not tactical meaning.
5. why would ao highlight the higher distance as “positive”?
two reasons, one broadcast psychology, one analytics packaging.
5.1 broadcast psychology: celebrating effort
tv graphics often “yellow highlight” extremes because extremes are interesting.
and in sport storytelling:
• high effort reads as admirable
• “they’re working harder” reads as heroic
so the highlight is frequently “notable / standout,” not “better.”
5.2 analytics packaging: distance pairs naturally with other physical stats
ao’s newer stat ecosystem often clusters:
• distance
• sprints / high-intensity movement
• direction changes
those are “physical battle” stats. in that frame, more can be framed as: “this player is doing more physical work”… which can be “positive” in the sense of resilience, not necessarily in the sense of control.
6. the methodical way to actually read that stat in a set
if you want to interpret the distance number properly while watching the match, focus on four simple layers of context.
step 1: match tempo and set length
first, calibrate the number against the rhythm of the set. a long, tight set with multiple deuce games and long rallies will naturally produce high distance totals. a short, clean set with quick holds will suppress them.
instead of thinking only in total metres, think in terms of distance per point. if the set felt grindy and physically demanding, high distance is expected. if the set felt quick and clinical, low distance tells you very little.
step 2: how points are ending
next, watch how rallies are resolving.
if you are seeing lots of aces and unreturned serves, distance is mostly irrelevant because rallies are not developing. movement volume is low by design.
if you are seeing extended baseline exchanges, scrambling defence, and repeated recovery runs, distance becomes meaningful as a measure of physical workload.
step 3: control of court geometry
then look at who is shaping the point. notice who is stepping inside the baseline, taking time away, and changing direction first.
the player who dictates depth and angle usually runs less. the player who is reacting, stretching wide, and recovering back to centre usually runs more.
if player a has the higher distance and is losing, the usual inference is that player a is being moved and carrying the defensive load. if player a has the higher distance and is winning, the usual inference is that player a is absorbing pressure, extending rallies, and turning defence into offence.
step 4: quick reality checks
finally, sanity-check the distance number against a few simple match cues:
• winners vs unforced errors
• average rally length
• unreturned serves / return points won
• net points / time in the front court (if shown)
distance alone is incomplete. it only becomes meaningful once you connect it to the flow, shape, and outcome of the points you are actually watching.
7. my final take
the distance stat is not a verdict on who is playing better tennis. it is a trace of how the set unfolded physically. it tells you how much court a player had to cover while the ball was live, but it does not tell you why they had to cover it, whether those metres came from dominance or defence, or whether the movement was efficient or desperate.
to read it properly, you have to connect it to what you actually saw. long rallies, repeated scrambling, and extended deuce games will inflate distance. serve dominance, first strike tennis, and early point endings will suppress it. the player dictating the geometry usually runs less. the player reacting to it usually runs more.
so when ao highlights a high distance number, read it as a signal of physical workload, not competitive advantage. it is a measure of effort, not authority.
