This past Australian Open reinforced one of tennis' unwritten rules

Tennis players, especially great ones, very quickly learn that while it’s okay to berate chair umpires, denigrate journalists and trash-talk feisty rivals, the one line you do not under any circumstances cross is the one where the court ends and the seats begin.

Lest we forget, this year’s Australian Open has reminded us of those unwritten rules.

No player ever wins a war with the fans. But if you insist on biting the hand that feeds you, it’s advisable to settle for a finger, not the entire appendage. This was the received wisdom for many scalawags over the years, from Bill Tilden to Pancho Gonzalez to Jimmy Connors and Daniil Medvedev and even Nick Kyrgios. It’s okay to joust with individual hecklers, but you don’t mess with the body of fans.

It’s also okay to call out members of the broadcast media, as Ben Shelton did in his press conference after earning his place in the men’s semifinals. Shelton cast a much-needed light on the inadequacy of so many of the tournament’s official interviewers. For some reason at this tournament, smart-alec or amateurish interviewers seem to be a feature, not a bug. Shelton rightfully noted that too many of the interviews have been “embarrassing” or “disrespectful.”

But the public in general is a different matter.

WTA pros seem to have a better understanding of this, but there was a startling exception at the Australian Open. Danielle Collins lit into the fans following her second-round win over Destanee Aiava, a long-struggling, 24-year-old Australian journeywoman ranked outside the Top 200. Aiava had been living a dream as a qualifier in Melbourne until Collins shattered it on the floor of Rod Laver Arena.

Collins was not content to take a tough and well-deserved W—she acidly rebuked the fans after winning match points and in her on-court interview. Their offense? They were too vocal, too exuberant, in their support of Aiava. Collins really rubbed it in, mocking the fans for—as she put it—financing her lifestyle and underwriting the fabulous five-star vacations at exotic resorts that she and her friends enjoy.

“The people that hate you,” she said, ‘they actually pay your bills. It’s kind of a cool concept.”

It was a distasteful, tone-deaf lecture that completely missed the mark. The vast bulk of the fans Collins was trashing paid for their tickets with serious money (maybe not Collins-grade yachting money, but still. . .) They had the right to cheer for whomever the hell they wanted. It’s unlikely they bought their tickets to go ga-ga for Collins.

Collins might have taken a lesson from the blowback that ensued. Instead she doubled down following her ensuing match, a loss to eventual champion Madison Keys. Booed as she walked to court, she was also goaded in social media and at the tournament by the likes of Jimmy Connors, and even Novak Djokovic. Neither helped her cause with the Aussie crowd.

Connors responded to her initial diatribe in his podcast, saying: “I am a fan of hers (Collins). She has her own personality (who else’s could she have?). . . do you know what I like best? She is not apologizing to anybody, I love that.”

Great. People who apologize for their actions are just losers, right?

Collins cast a wide net of disparagement. It caught a number of people, including Tony Jones, the veteran Australian Channel 9 broadcaster who dared call her a “brat.” Djokovic added fuel to the fire. His reaction to the incident:

“I heard some comments of people that she shouldn’t have said that or that. I think she (Collins) handled it really well. I don’t think I would be that polite, and I know exactly the feeling. So I think she was funny, smart, and (I’m) just big fan of what she did. Big fan.”

Djokovic has a history of attaching himself to unconventional ideas and controversial behavior or characters, as if being the greatest player of all time is nothing if you’re not also perceived as a bit of a rebel. But the Serbian star soon had troubles of his own, and the fans in Rod Laver Arena were punished because of it.

Jones, it turned out, had quite a busy week. While calling Collins a “brat” was defensible, his attack on Djokovic was not. In a live broadcast, Jones idiotically chanted along with Djokovic fans in front of RLA, but he changed the words to call Djokovic “overrated,” and a “has-been.” He repeated “kick him out”—a reference to Djokovic’s attempt to obviate the Covid-inspired law allowing only vaccinated travelers entry into Australia in 2022—a stunt for which the Serbian was deported.

Tennis doesn’t look like a very friendly game when some of its big names act as if Public Enemy No. 1 is . . .the public.

Aware of the incident, Djokovic demanded an apology from Jones and Channel 9, the tournament’s host broadcaster. When it was not immediately forthcoming (they eventually capitulated), Djokovic refused to do the on-court interview following his next win with 9’s Jim Courier (an exception on the mediocre broadcast team). Djokovic just took the mike in hand, thanked the fans for coming, and abruptly turned, grabbed his bags—leaving the fans holding one of their own—and left.

One upshot in all this: the spectators, hoping to witness a live, unrehearsed interview with an iconic player, were used as pawns—held hostage over what, in the long run, was a silly squabble.

Fans love expressive, even mischievous players like, say, Shelton. But they don’t cotton to whiners or the easily aggrieved. Nor do they want media intermediaries who act as if they’re auditioning a stand-up act, or who feel obliged to establish their equality with the players. When players or media folks don’t give spectators the respect they deserve, the sport suffers. Tennis doesn’t look like a very friendly game when some of its big names act as if Public Enemy No. 1 is . . .the public.