Tennis Mailbag: An Update on Jannik Sinner’s Case

What WADA appealing the ITIA decision means for the world No. 1. Plus, Jon Wertheim answers your questions about tennis fandom and social media discourse.
WADA announced that it will appeal the decision in Sinner's anti-doping case.
WADA announced that it will appeal the decision in Sinner's anti-doping case. / Mike Frey-Imagn Images

Hey, everyone

• Here’s the latest Served podcast episode. 

• For those who asked, here’s the 60 Minutes interview with Caitlin Clark.

• We were going to devote this week’s column to the fan experience … Then the news broke that WADA had appealed the Jannik Sinner decision. So let’s start there and then talk tennis fandom …


Tennis began its swing through Asia last week. But the big news came from Europe, where WADA announced that it was appealing the August ruling in the Sinner case, which effectively cleared the player of wrongdoing after he failed two doping tests earlier this year.

Before we go further, here’s the decision. It leaves many questions unanswered. But it also answers many questions that, not surprisingly (see below), social media glosses over. Note that the majority of the tribunal members did not know Sinner’s identity when they reached their conclusion. The decision also explains why he was able to continue playing and why he avoided a provisional suspension. (Short answer: he provided an explanation immediately.) One can agree or disagree with this as a sound policy, but it does appear that protocol was followed.

Apart from the fact that this case implicates the No.1 player in the world—victorious at the previous major—in my reading, there are two especially striking features. 

1) So often with doping cases, there are chain of custody issues. And process issues. And issues over alibis and explanations. Here, the facts are not really in dispute. The conclusion that Sinner did not intentionally dope is not challenged by WADA. The issue is about applying the law to the facts; and the facts to the law. That is, if we are in a strict liability universe—athletes are responsible for what goes into their bodies. A positive test is, on its face, indicative of guilt. How did Sinner avoid suspension? How did he face no penalty harsher than $325,000 in prize money? 

2) There is a gap in logic on both sides. In Sinner’s defense, it makes little sense why a top player, fresh from winning a major, months removed from the next major, with a sterling reputation and a nine-figure Nike deal … would risk it all. To use a PED. In March. In such trace amounts. The incentives don’t add up. 

But neither does his defense. A team of trained, experienced trainers and sports scientists are really this clumsy? They are using a product on the WADA banned list—that they know is on the banned list; that they have an adverse history with; sold in packaging with a doping warning—to treat a cut? And then, with no gloves, they are massaging a $100 million athlete? Gross—like, galactically, mind-bendingly, era-definingly gross—negligence would be the most charitable interpretation. 

For all the social media frothing, there is no scandal here. There’s a dispute—a healthy one, I would argue—between the ITIA and WADA, and how doping policy is applied and enforced. It’s entirely possible to have a dispute without conspiracy, collusion and coverup.

Finally, a number of you asked how to regard Sinner going forward. My short and unsatisfying answer: You must decide that yourself. 

Three words that have fallen out of vogue: I don’t know. But few people have direct knowledge of what did or did not happen. We were not in the room. We have not cross-examined Sinner’s team. We have multiple positive tests. We have a theory of the case, an explanation that a panel of experts believed. We have some answered questions and some unanswered questions.

Absent first-hand knowledge, some will look at the facts and give him a pass. Others will look at the facts and reach a harsher conclusion. It would be immensely easier if there were a smoking gun or clear exculpating and incriminating evidence. Or even an unambiguous, binding legal decision. We have none of that. So fans need to decide for themselves how they want to see and weigh the evidence and testimony we do have. And then draw their own conclusion. 


Onward …


Tiafoe advanced to the U.S. Open semifinals before falling to Taylor Fritz.
Tiafoe advanced to the U.S. Open semifinals before falling to Taylor Fritz. / Geoff Burke-Imagn Images

Hi Jon,

Would very much appreciate your take on a discussion I’ve been having with some tennis friends since the U.S. Open. One of the narratives about Frances Tiafoe during the U.S. Open was how he shows up for the U.S. Open, but often does not appear as motivated or inspired for other events. He’s certainly not the first player to be described as such, so this isn’t just necessarily about Tiafoe. But our debate was, what does the serious tennis fan do with these players? Some of us love to cheer for them and their moments of great tennis and hope that they can build on what was a terrific result. Others roll their eyes at them and get annoyed that they can’t show up day in and day out and be the best player their talent provides and feel otherwise it’s a waste of time to emotionally invest in them and root for them because they aren’t always going to be there. Your arbitration would be helpful!

J. Owens

• So, stick with me here. One reason I have real regard for ATP chieftain, Andrea Gaudenzi is that he is devoted to data and empirical evidence. This is not some slick executive playing verbal CEO air guitar talking vaguely about innovative vision and unlocking value and scalable assets. He comes armed with facts and figures.

In keeping with his approach, the ATP recently commissioned a marketing survey “Understanding Our Fans and Brand.” The results are sobering. “Around 20 percent of the 1bn global tennis fans follow the ATP Tour.” The number for the WTA is even smaller. The vast majority of fans consume the sport through the majors or individual players. 

A recurring theme of this column: incentives explain a lot. When the majors offer the bulk of the prize money, eyeballs and engagement and are the tentpoles that trigger bonus clauses in endorsements … and are the top-line credentials for career assessment … players—consciously and subconsciously—take their cues. 

To me, the issue is less about Tiafoe and his week-to-week inconsistency. It’s more about what the ATP and WTA can do to make fans and thus players (and players and thus fans) care about the non-Slam weeks. Both tours have so much to offer. But they cannot simply be sandwich-filling between the eight (soon-to-be 12) weeks when casual fans tune in.

Two other findings that jumped out at me. 1) Five percent (five!) of fans understand the tournament tier system. 2) “The ATP brand is most strongly associated with competitiveness, incredible athletes and being entertained, while it is least associated with being innovative, cool and emotional.”


Here’s an observation that has somewhat gnawed at me these past three years. In September 2021, I attended the Laver Cup in Boston. I have been a huge [redacted] fan … on the first day, I went to the rail by the court, joining about six to eight other fans to watch some of the players practice. When they were done, [redacted] walked by me about five feet away when I called out to him “Can we take a photo?” He put his head down and kept on walking.  Now, I would understand if there were scores of fans screaming out his name and he only stopped to sign a few autographs and the like. I was the only one calling out to him though.  I’m pretty soft-spoken, so maybe he did not hear me.  I dunno.  I did get autographs from Daniil Medvedev, Andrey Rublev and Alexander Zverev though and they were very accommodating to the fans.

Additionally, at the same event, Roger Federer, who was unable to play due to recent surgery, was walking from his seat when I perched myself at the corner, maybe 20 feet from him, when he noticed that I was trying to take a photo and he stopped and smiled at me—on crutches nonetheless! That made up for [redacted]’s aloofness. So, what is the story with [redacted], is he really that shy or reclusive? Man, I wish I could have gotten a selfie or an autograph and it would have cost him what, 10 seconds for a lifelong fan?

SM

• This story included the name of the player. I redacted it because it’s not fair to call the guy out. Maybe he genuinely did not see SM. Maybe he just had a fight with his wife and his mind was elsewhere. Maybe he was having gastrointestinal issues. A general rule regarding fan interactions, we ought to extend grace to athletes. I was recently talking to a (non-tennis) athlete about this scenario. She poses for 19 selfies. She finally leaves. And the 20th fan takes to social media and writes: “Just got blown off by X, what a jerk.” 

But, on the flipside, and the reason why I want to include this question, is to stress how deeply meaningful these brief interactions are to fans. I think I recently mentioned a story about an interaction my son’s friend Colin had years ago with Lindsay Davenport. (For that matter, my son still has an autographed ball Marion Bartoli gave him in 2009 and he can recount which 2012 New York Mets players did and didn’t sign his glove at spring training. By extension, I can recount them, too. R.A. Dickey? Awesome. José Reyes? Not awesome.) 

Bartoli won her lone major title at 2013 Wimbledon.
Bartoli won her lone major title at 2013 Wimbledon. / Susan Mullane-Imagn Images

I haven’t quite nailed the social psychology, the “why” of it all. I’m open to suggestions here. Why does it matter? Maybe it’s breaking the fourth wall and having an interaction with someone you usually only see on screens or far away. Maybe it’s the connection—vanishingly brief as it may be—to someone you know from afar who’s now acknowledging you. SM now has a personal Federer story he can tell his grandkids.

A few years ago I did a piece for Sports Illustrated on Tom Brady. When we were done with the interview he asked genially, “Do you want to take a photo?” I was a little taken aback. Huh? I’m here because it’s my job. Not because I’m a fan. But clearly Brady gets these requests so often—in so many contexts—from anyone and everyone in his orbit, that he figures he may as well avoid the awkwardness and the delay and make the first move. 

Anyway, if I were an agent or handler, my message to celebrities and athletes would be: Your first obligation is to yourself and your talent. Never feel bad about protecting your time. But, by the same token, be like Brady, Davenport, Federer, the inimitable Bartoli and knuckleballing Dickey. Be liberal about how many of these interactions you accommodate. They mean so much for so long to so many. It’s a few seconds out of your day. And it yields—literally—a lifetime memory for the other person.


I remember when tennis was a sport played by gentlemen and ladies, followed by decent people and reported on by those who loved it with a limitless passion. It’s turned into an absolute s--- show now. Glad I’m right out of it.

Neil Harman

• Last week on X, we had quite a discussion about trolls, discourse-poisoners and whether athletes might be obligated to step in and reel in the stans who spread toxicity in their name. Backstory: I did a story on the WNBA last week and the issue of “toxic fans” came up again and again. I like Breanna Stewart’s response. “Enough is enough. Don’t be disrespectful.”

Should the onus fall on athletes to police fans? No. I don’t think anyone would argue that. But if some of your more prominent fans are objectively toxic, the athlete might want to think twice about namechecking them or leaving them tickets, thus validating and amplifying them.

My response to Neil: “The problem is the enragement-is-engagement (h/t Kara Swisher) algorithm of social media … 99 percent of fans are awesome—reasonable, informed, smart, partisan but civil and fair. It’s the one percent fringe—armed with the biggest megaphones—who contaminate the culture.”

Question for the group: What do we do here? How does the community on X, known as Tennis Twitter—which has a lot to recommend—remain a genial barroom and not a LCD cesspool?

My friend Jeff says “get off Twitter.” Which he just did. But I resist this. Tennis Twitter can be wonderful, knitting together this far flung sport. It’s a place for different perspectives and stories and observations. I’ve met countless tennis fans this way. Some point out articles in publications and websites I’d never otherwise read. Some note interesting stats. Some have tips. I really believe that 99 out of 100 fans are fantastic. That doesn’t mean there’s always agreement. But there’s talking, not yelling. Why should we have to abandon the community because of obnoxious neighbors?

The fine journalist Vanni Gibertini wrote: “These people feed off attention. Take that away and you cut off their source of energy. And why should anyone pay attention to what a random nobody off the street says anyway?” 

He’s probably right. But I would push back gently and suggest that we, as a community, have a duty to confront malignancies. There’s one account in particular—I blocked it years ago, so apparently missed out on incalculable bile since—that has been a consistent menace. Fans, administrators, current players, former players … you could fill Arthur Ashe Stadium with people who are disgusted by this guy and/or have blocked him. Is there a point when you name-and-shame and say, Sir, this goes way beyond the parameters of agree/disagree and civil discourse? You embarrass the player you purport to represent. You embarrass yourself. Please stop tainting the experience for so many


SHOTS

• Take us out, Journeyman

Dear Jon,


I don't know whether this is material better suited for the Tennis Mailbag or Served, but please tell Andy Roddick that below is more evidence that Emma Navarro is not to be trifled with. Consider this the rap that Emma N. could have given at the Billie Jean King Cup, if she hadn’t decided to go in a more modest direction, and a call for a full album from her.

Journeyman

Navarro performed an original rap as the newest rookie on the U.S. Billie Jean King Cup team.
Navarro performed an original rap as the newest rookie on the U.S. Billie Jean King Cup team. / Robert Deutsch-Imagn Images

 Y’all act like you never seen a lines person before,

Jaws all on the floor like Billie, like Bobby just burst in the door,

And started smashin’ his balls worse than before

They first stopped the war, runnin’ him over center court.

It’s the return of the “Oh wait, no way, you’re kidding.

She didn’t just rap like I think she did, did she?”

And Dr. Ivo said … nothing, you foolers!

Dr. Ivo’s busy; he’s stringing in my basement. (Ha ha!)

Tennis whingers love Emma N.

“Tik-a Tok-a Tik-a, Win Lady, I’m sick of Em.

Look at her, runnin’ around, grabbin’ her new racket,

Lippin’ at you-know-who.”“Yeah, but she’s so cool, though.”

Yeah, I probably got a couple of mains up in my head loose,

But no worse than what’s goin’ on in that crossed up broadcast booth.

Sometimes I wanna get on tv and just let loose.

But can’t, but it’s cool for Robbie K to drug a mongoose.

“It’s Kygridiculous!  It’s Kygridiculous!”

And if a girl’s lucky, you might just give her a little fuss.

And that’s the message that we deliver to little kids,

And worry that they won’t know when a woman hits or misses.

Of course they’re gonna know our gender tours big

By the time they hit fourth grade;

They’ve got the Tennis Channel, don’t they?

We ain’t nothing but annals—well, some of us Danimals,

Who slice other players out there like cantaloupes.

But if we can thump like animals and Annacone,

Then there’s no reason that a man can’t have a woman as his coach.

But if you feel like I feel, I got the antidote.

Women, make sure Andy knows, sing the chorus, and it goes—

I’m Win Lady, yes, I’m the real Lady.

All you other win ladies are just Emma-tating.

So won’t the real Win Lady please stand up,

Please stand up, please stand up?

‘Cause I’m Win Lady, yes, I’m the real Lady.

All you other win ladies are just Emma-tating.

So won’t the real Win Lady please stand up,

Please stand up, please stand up?


Published
Jon Wertheim
JON WERTHEIM

Jon Wertheim is a senior writer for Sports Illustrated and has been part of the full-time SI writing staff since 1997, largely focusing on the tennis beat , sports business and social issues, and enterprise journalism. In addition to his work at SI, he is a correspondent for "60 Minutes" and a commentator for The Tennis Channel. He has authored 11 books and has been honored with two Emmys, numerous writing and investigative journalism awards, and the Eugene Scott Award from the International Tennis Hall of Fame. Wertheim is a longtime member of the New York Bar Association (retired), the International Tennis Writers Association and the Writers Guild of America. He has a bachelor's in history from Yale University and received a law degree from the University of Pennsylvania. He resides in New York City with his wife, who is a divorce mediator and adjunct law professor. They have two children.