Queens residents woke up—if they slept at all—to a waterlogged apocalypse. Why is tennis being played at the US Open today?

Tennis Channel Live: Hurricane Ida's path of devastation includes the US Open

My first residence in New York City was a basement apartment, in the southwest section of Forest Hills, Queens. Such living quarters are not uncommon in the five boroughs, where every inch of available space is considered and monetized. Skyscrapers are an emblem of Gotham, but out-of-towners probably don’t realize how much underground space is used, from the A train’s terminus in northwest Manhattan to the Z train’s last stop in east Queens. New Yorkers live, shop, eat and drink in countless urban foxholes, and they commute from place to place in the city’s labyrinthine subway tunnels.

As you have surely seen by now, the “remnants” of Hurricane Ida were categorically devastating to the Tri-State area. Over the span of one hour on Wednesday night, 3.15 inches of rain fell on Central Park; the record was 1.94. A flash flood emergency was declared in New York City for the first time ever. Social media was strewn with video of waterlogged subway stations, the result of age-old infrastructure and, speaking of old, a Noah’s Ark-level amount of rainfall. Streets in Bushwick, Brooklyn were suddenly transformed into canals, not to be confused with Canal Street in Chinatown. Thursday morning’s newscast showed aerial shots of flooded neighborhoods in New Jersey; at the same time, on radio station 1010 WINS—with traffic updates every 10 minutes—the hosts sounded like auctioneers, running down as many closed parkways and county roads as possible within the allotted time slot.

As of 1 p.m. Thursday, 20 people were reported to have died due to the weather conditions in the Tri-State area. Eight of those deaths occurred in New York City basement apartments.

Last night’s apocalyptic rainfall was unsettling 60 miles northeast of the USTA Billie Jean National Tennis Center in Connecticut, where I’m typing this now. I can—but at the same time, can’t—imagine how it would have felt being in and around the tennis facility itself, which looked like ground zero during last night’s broadcast. Subway use was suspended as the storm intensified, leaving foot travel as a plausible option for some patrons. Years ago, I walked home from the Open to the basement apartment via 108th Street—but that was just two miles, and on a warm summer night.

I don’t blame the USTA for going forward with Wednesday’s night matches; this storm caught everyone by surprise. I also thought the decision to complete the abandoned Diego Schwartzman-Kevin Anderson match in dry Arthur Ashe Stadium made sense, so fans could remain sheltered for as long as possible.

But the fact that tennis is taking place Thursday, just hours after all of this, is both dangerous and disappointing.

While there is no travel ban in New York City, state and local officials strongly encouraged people to stay off roadways except for emergency purposes. The city’s mass transit is still imperiled, even if some service has been restored. While a statement from the US Open at 12:06 p.m. indicated that "both the LIRR and 7 train are up and running again," a quick glance at the MTA's website at the same time showed that delays and suspensions were still prevalent.

This all led to an added reliance on car travel, at a time when emergency and service crews need clear access to roads, provided they aren’t impassible. And the limited service mass transit is providing will be even more congested than usual—just the thing for a still-raging pandemic.

Rutgers University, in New Jersey, moved tonight’s season-opening football game to Saturday, and it’s easy to see why:

Is every pathway to Flushing Meadows underwater, like River Road above? No, but that’s not the point. The fallout from last night is not normal—a term we’ve been dealing with, to varying degrees of success, for a while now—and that abnormality needs to be respected. If we can deal without seeing our loved ones for months, we can deal without tennis for a day. (The tournament is also in its early stages, so there would have been plenty of time to play schedule catch-up.)

Thursday should have served as a voice of reason for both fans and those not attending the US Open, but who could be impacted by its continuation, and should have also absolved the tournament’s essential workers—many of whom rely on the bus it subway to get to Flushing Meadows—of potentially reckless travel. Lord knows how everyone got home after Schwartzman wrapped up the proceedings after 1 a.m., with rain still pelting and drowning the area. But if it took Sloane Stephens over three hours, I’m guessing it wasn’t easy for the average person.

Yesterday afternoon, before the deluge, I spoke with Dominik Koepfer after his second-round loss to second seed Daniil Medvedev. Koepfer played college tennis at Tulane University, which is in close proximity to Hurricane Ida’s landfall in Louisiana this past Sunday. The Category 4 had maximum winds around 150 m.p.h., and the entire city of New Orleans lost power. It has also forced Tulane’s students to relocate to Houston until the campus and surrounding area can safely be used in early October.

“I think New Orleans is better off than they were during [Hurricane] Katrina, because of all the investments and all the stuff they’ve done for the water,” said Koepfer, who experienced his share of storms during his time in Louisiana, and whose coach, Mark Booras, had to return to New Orleans last week to secure his home.

Let’s hope New York City follows New Orleans’ lead, in order to minimize the damage that the next major storm will inflict, and to aid with the inevitable restoration and clean-up. The US Open may have emerged unscathed after Day and Night 3, but the borough in which it calls home didn’t. Anything that detracts from Queens’ recovery—including the staging of a tennis tournament in its immediate aftermath—needs to be reconsidered as well.