Scream queen stands out among silent majority

Quiet, please. A patron will be taken out the back and shot if they make a peep but what about players’ courtesy to each other?

Belarus’ Aryna Sabalenka screams during her match against Australia’s Ashleigh Barty at Melbourne Park

Quiet, please. A patron will be taken out the back of Grand Slam Oval and shot if they make a peep during a rally. Fair enough, ump, but what about players’ courtesy to each other? If it’s a spectating sin to disturb proceedings, what about a nice big cup of shut-the-hell-up, at the next change of ends, for the baseline sluggers who knowingly baulk and intimidate opponents by screaming like a wounded banshee with every stroke?

That’s the argument. My opinion? Let them do it. Not everyone is a church mouse, not everyone is Ash Barty, stoically and brilliantly counter-punching against an overtly aggressive opponent who was howling to the moon on Rod Laver Arena on Tuesday night. That was the match of the tournament, at the time of writing, which Barty swung in her favour with the shot of the tournament, at the time of writing, in the second game of a dramatic third set.

Aryna Sabalenka was screaming like she was about to throw a plate across the room in an argument. She led 1-0, threatening to make it 2-0, when she lobbed Barty. The Australian scampered back (silently), pivoted (silently) and replied to the lob with an unlikely, off-balance, silent forehand lob of her own. That’s such a hard shot to get right. The ball sang off her strings and landed in.

Ashleigh Barty and Aryna Sabarenka. Picture: Supplied.

The effect? Sabalenka’s head dipped, she grinned, she looked at Barty and she applauded. Barty quietly clenched her fist and prepared for the next point. She won the argument by winning the match. Great tennis will beat the histrionics, every time. The best way to make Sabalenka put a sock in it? Beat her.

Sabalenka’s screeching/grunting, whatever you want to call it, was excessive. She could be heard next door outside the MCG, no exaggeration. Undoubtedly it was a form of gamesmanship, which is just a polite way of describing poor sportsmanship. So what? It’s no secret who caterwauls and who does not. First-world problems don’t get much more first-world. Get over it. Look after your end of the court.

If you’re fragile enough to be distracted by it, that’s your problem and an invitation for the grunter to grunt even more. Pushing the boundaries is part and parcel of every professional sport. What about sledging in cricket? Ian Healy was capable of keeping wickets for the Australian team without telling Shane Warne to bowl a Mars Bar at Arjuna Ranatunga.

Rugby players are capable of letting an opponent kick a conversion without running at him like they’re on fire. Ditto for defending AFL players before a rival’s shot at goal. Muhammad Ali was capable of boxing without rope-a-dope. It’s all baulking. It’s all gamesmanship.

Maria Sharapova trains as if she’s in a meditative state on a Himalayan mountaintop and then bungs it on during a match. It’s purposeful and pre-meditated. Hear my power? Hear my desperation to beat you? The grunts prevent the opponent from hearing the ball off the strings, which is important, but so what? It’s a ruthless environment. Fight or flight. Let them go for it.

Barty could have complained to the umpire about Sabalenka, but she did not. She earned respect because of it. She turned the other cheek, and perhaps blocked her ears, for two hours of high-pressure tennis. The quiet achievers will always get the warmest response from the crowd, as she did regardless of the Australian allegiances. She resembled an underdog. It felt like she was being bullied but quietly fighting back.

There’s a determined dignity to what Barty is doing. She plays Camila Giorgi tonight. It’s a danger match between a couple of church mice. They’re both in sparkling form. You don’t have to make a noise to make a noise.

“Very happy to squeak through,” Barty said before revealing she knew the ear-bashing was coming from Sabalenka. “I hadn’t seen a lot of her matches but my coach had watched vision. He was aware it was coming. A lot of players grunt. A lot of players don’t grunt. It’s just the way they are, the way they play.

“For me, it wasn’t a distraction. It wasn’t anything like that. It was just part and parcel. I knew it was coming. It’s not irritating at all. I think if something that small can irritate you, that’s a bigger issue in itself. I mean, obviously in the first couple of games you get used to it. Everyone has a bit of a different grunt.”

It was close to the midnight hour when Barty wrapped up her media commitments. She was less concerned about the forecast of 38 degrees today than for her need of a kip.

Told that no one likes playing tennis on a stinking hot day, a good Ipswich girl grinned and replied: “Aussies do. Absolutely. I love it. I’m from Brisbane. Nice and hot up there. Thirty-eight would be perfect. Thanks, guys. Let’s go to bed.”