Naomi Osaka: Seven Matches, Seven Masks, Seven Names
Words by Matthew Romano
Graphics by Aspasia Celia Tsampas
Despite her characteristically shy personality, 22-year-old Japanese and black tennis player, Naomi Osaka, is no stranger to making headlines, particularly at the US Open. Even amid a global pandemic, nestled away inside the tennis bubble set up by USTA on the grounds of Flushing Meadows, this year’s US Open proved to be no different. In fact, the headlines have never been bigger, the words never holding as much weight as they do now.
So, how did we get here?
In 2018, in what was a masterclass on how to handle pressure and absorb power, Osaka earned herself a 6-2, 6-4 straight set upset victory over twenty three time champion Serena Williams in the U.S. Open final, capping off an already breakout year and a “Cinderella-story” for the ages. However, media frenzy, hysteria, and controversy would come to surround this match, which made national headlines for weeks, months, even years after, and for vastly different reasons. It is the infamous story of Serena vs. The Umpire (as it was dubbed in an ESPN Backstory special which premiered last August on ABC) which, for those who have not heard, involved Carlos Ramos’ launching of accusations that Williams was receiving coaching during the match, illegal per rules set by the USTA. The accusations would manifest in three code violations, a claim of verbal abuse, a point-penalty, a game-penalty, and $17,000 in fines. You can watch what happened HERE.
Osaka, rising above the headlines, would make herself a household name with her soft-spoken nature, infectious smile, and her endearing, self-deprecating, and often audibly nerve-wracked interviews. She awed tennis fans that had been used to a poker-like game of composure, sometimes at the expense of emotion and rawness. In a tense and raucous trophy ceremony, Osaka’s teary-eyed “I’m sorry” to millions of Serena fans seemed to cut through the tension, halt a barrage of boo’s, and cement her place in the memories of all those who happened to tune in that night. Thanks to 21st century technology, here are some other examples where Naomi Osaka’s timid, socially awkward, and always captivating personality is center stage. Watch for yourself and try not to “aww!”
Indian Wells 2018 Acceptance Speech
U.S. Open 2018 Women's Final Trophy Ceremony
Naomi Osaka just being Naomi Osaka
In 2019, Osaka again made headlines on the jam-packed 23,771-seat Arthur Ashe stadium in what, at first glance, appeared a routine, straight-set 6-3, 6-0 third round victory. Those who followed tennis in 2019 knew, however, that this moment meant so much more.
The player on the losing end of the lopsided score was none other than teenage tennis prodigy, Coco Gauff. Gauff, only 15 at the time, made her own headlines earlier that year by defeating her idol, Venus Williams, in the Wimbledon first round — becoming the youngest player in the Open Era to do so. Coco-mania, as it came to be called, would sweep the nation with almost the same intensity as Osaka’s triumph in the previous year. The defeat left Gauff visibly distraught. It was as if, in that moment, the emotional high of a spectacular 2019 had just come crashing around her, bringing with it the waves of cheers emanating from the stadium and the weight of the world watching, waiting, and hoping.
Naomi Osaka was, by then, no stranger to the trials and tribulations that come with being a young and idolized tennis player of that magnitude. Earlier that year, she opened up courageously and candidly about her struggles with confidence, the pressure of meeting sky-high and still-rising expectations, and her depression following her Australian Open win. Osaka seemed to recognize and to empathize with Gauff’s intense and emotional reaction as the latter packed her racket away in concession. After all, it was that time a year ago, on the same stage, that she was in Coco’s shoes, sharing an embrace with Williams, a new mom, as she tried her best to comfort the young star. Crowds there and at home could just make out Osaka’s words to Gauff. “Do you want to do the interview with me? These people are here for you.” “I’m going to cry the whole interview,” replied a distressed Gauff. Eventually, Gauff would relent and the two would share an awe-inspiring, certainly memorable, and teary-eyed joint post-match interview with Gauff at one point saying, “I’m gonna learn a lot from this match.”
As the news broke and the headlines came out, it became certain that not only Gauff, but everyone, could learn a lot from this special moment of vulnerability and mutuality between two young, successful, and model women of color, especially in a sport where fierce competitiveness, an imperturbable demeanor, and selfish individualism is championed. One other thing was clear for a profoundly changed Naomi Osaka: the mentee was now the mentor.
Now in 2020, it is clear that Osaka has made significant and recognizable strides in her growth as a player and as a person. Once too shy to refer to herself as a mentor (“I mean, I don’t think I’m a mentor,” being her exact words following her win over Gauff), Osaka has since accepted and embraced her position as a role model to the next generation of young athletes, people of color, and multiracial individuals. She has committed herself to a life of activism and a leader for change both on and off the courts.
On August 26th 2020, three days after the startling video depicting the merciless Kenosha shooting of 29-year-old and father of six, Jacob Blake, went viral, the Milwaukee Bucks decided to walk out of a game-5 playoff matchup against the Orlando Magic. They intended to sacrifice the game as a sign of respect and solidarity for the Blake family and the Black Lives Matter movement. Little did they know, this decision would extend to the rest of the NBA and other major U.S. Sports. Naomi Osaka, leading the charge for the USTA in a way that no other tennis player could have, followed closely behind, choosing to follow the Bucks’ example and walk out from her upcoming semifinals match against Elise Mertens in the Western and Southern Open. She posted this impassioned and cogent message on her social media in explanation of the decision:
Naomi Osaka’s activism, her fight for justice, and her pursuit of meaningful and critical conversations surrounding the escalating issue of what it means to be black in America would not stop there. Osaka made national headlines by wearing a mask inscribed with the name of a black victim of police violence for each match she played: “seven matches, seven masks, seven names.” She symbolically dedicated the match, the run, and the eventual title to the victims, their families, and the overarching Black Lives Matter movement. In some ways, this act was a far cry from the reticent and self-conscious girl-next-door that tennis fans came to know and love in 2018, but in other ways, it embodied the same vivacious spirit and breath of fresh air that was destined for stardom and would undoubtedly usher in a new era of women’s tennis.
However, there was something distinctly different, momentous, about the Japanese player’s latest grand slam. This win felt important, needed, and deserved in a way that grand slam titles do not always feel and it is in part because, in a sport where you win and you lose alone, this was not just Osaka’s win, it was a win for everyone. It was a win for tennis as a whole, a predominantly white sport wherein black athletes successes are still myopically defined by the road paved by the Williams sisters which, though as undeniable as the fact is, still leaves out anyone that came before (Althea Gibson, Arthur Ashe) and anyone that has risen since (Naomi Osaka, Coco Gauff, Madison Keys). It was a win for the next generation of tennis and frankly all sports, a generation that is not afraid to go against the status quo, celebrate each other’s successes, advocate for important social causes, or connect with fans, opponents, and rivals on a genuine, personal, and human level.
More significant though is that it was a win for Breonna Taylor, for Elijah McClain, for Ahmaud Arbery, for Trayvon Martin, for George Floyd, for Philando Castile, for Tamir Rice.
It was a win for every black life that’s been taken at the hands of police.
It was a win for every name that has and has not been spoken.
It was a win for every black son who has to walk around fearful of the skin he’s in; for every black daughter who has to toe the fine line between being proud of her blackness or being ashamed of the pain it causes; for every parent of black kids who has to spend every day in fear of what might happen to their son or daughter the minute they walk outside of the supposed safety of their home.
It was also a win for everyone else out there wondering when enough will finally be enough and when, if, black lives will ever truly matter.
Osaka’s efforts for justice, change, and conversation have not gone unnoticed.
Sabrina Fulton, the mother of Trayvon Martin, had this to say on Osaka’s fight for social justice: "I just want to say thank you to Naomi Osaka for representing Trayvon Martin on your customized mask and also for Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor."
Marcus Arbery Sr., the father of Ahmaud Arbery, also expressed gratitude; "Naomi, I just want to tell you thank you for the support of my family… God bless you for what you're doing and you're supporting our family with my son. My family really, really appreciates that."
Asked in an on-court interview following her grand slam win, “You said from the beginning, seven matches, seven masks, seven names. What was the message you wanted to send, Naomi?” Osaka turned the question around, asking the white reporter for ESPN, Tom Rinaldi, the more important question, “Well, what was the message that you got?” That, of course, is the missing piece in this story, the piece that is our jobs as readers, consumers, humans to fill in…
What does this mean? Why is this important? What can we do about it? Where do we go from here
