Behind the glamour of centre court battles at Grand Slams lies a hidden world of hierarchy and unspoken rules, centred on one of tennis's most precious commodities: the practice court. As players like Jessica Pegula attest, your access to prime training slots and quality surfaces shifts dramatically as you climb the rankings, creating a stark divide between the sport's elite and the chasing pack.
The Awkward Handover: When Court Time Runs Out
A telling scene unfolded at last year's US Open, highlighting the inherent tension. Daniil Medvedev and Alexander Zverev were deep in an intense practice set on Louis Armstrong Stadium when their allotted hour ended. The scheduled pair, Danielle Collins and Christian Harrison, arrived and waited quietly on the sidelines. Medvedev and Zverev, clearly reluctant to stop, deliberated and even lined up to play one more game before finally conceding the court.
This scenario is a common source of friction. While players train together amicably year-round, the strict scheduling of tournament practice can test patience. An unwritten global rule exists: do not hog the court. Yet, as Canadian star Gabriel Diallo (world No. 41) notes with a smile, some push the limits. "Some people abuse their time. It's one hour, they push it to 1.05, 1.10. I'm Canadian so I hate confrontation. I just let people play, maybe too much."
US Open champion Coco Gauff observes this trend is more prevalent on the professional tour than in junior tennis. "You definitely get some people that you know will push their time two, three, four minutes past," she says. Gauff is meticulous about her own etiquette, asking her coach for the time to ensure she finishes early, especially on clay where court cleaning is needed.
A Privilege Earned? The Stark Divide in Court Quality
The issue is compounded by a significant disparity in the quality and location of practice courts allocated to top players versus the rest. Jessica Pegula, who broke into the top echelons after years outside the top 100, experienced this shift firsthand. Speaking of her early days at her home Grand Slam, the US Open, she recalls: "I was back in the park smelling all the weed and all the smells New York City has to offer."
She explains that those peripheral courts were not only less desirable in location but also in condition, playing "so fast" and being "nothing like the match courts." Her perspective now, as a consistent top-10 player, is nuanced. "I've definitely seen a shift in my practice courts and my times and what courts I can get now that I'm a top player. I guess you could say it's unfair a little bit, but I also think sometimes you've earned that right."
Navigating Etiquette: From Passive Patience to Polite Pressure
Players have developed distinct strategies for dealing with court hogs. Pegula believes most are flexible, but she isn't afraid to apply subtle pressure. "It is kind of funny, because you walk out and stand around: 'All right, your time's up.' You go up and stand there, bouncing the ball. Like, 'OK, it's time to get off.'"
Gauff takes a similar, proactive approach, gradually encroaching onto the court. For her, the real irritation comes from a lack of acknowledgement. "If someone [says]: 'Sorry, I have a match, I just want to hit a few more serves.' I'm, like: 'OK, cool.' But the worst is if the player just keeps going like they're not in the wrong. And then they don't say sorry after. And I'm like: 'OK, noted.'"
British number one Cameron Norrie recounted a time he waited for Novak Djokovic and Alexander Zverev to finish. At 59 minutes past the hour, Norrie tried to nudge his fitness trainer onto the court to apply pressure, only for the trainer to refuse, not wanting to interrupt the superstars.
Others, like Diallo, opt for a more passive, yet internally judgmental, stance. "I just sit and watch them until when they're going to be satisfied that: 'OK, I've had enough and I can go and be calm now about my match.'" He grins, adding, "Very Canadian."
Even finishing a session on time can be fraught, as Emma Raducanu points out. The pressure of an incoming team can disrupt the final point. "Seven out of 10 times you end up double faulting," she says. "That's what happened to me today and I had a good practice... It is always a funny little interaction because the [final] point usually ends up being either terrible or unbelievable."
This complex ecosystem of privilege, etiquette, and competition remains an unspoken yet integral part of the professional tennis tour, a microcosm of the sport's broader hierarchies played out daily behind the scenes.
