I’ll keep this brief—mostly because I’m still recovering from the masterclass Coco Gauff delivered over the weekend at Roland Garros. On Saturday, she walked off Court Philippe-Chatrier with her second Grand Slam title—once again, defeating World No. 1 Aryna Sabalenka on one of the game’s biggest stages. Once again, doing it on her own terms.
In an era of tennis obsessed with power, feenin' for its next “big three” narrative, the conversation often circles around Iga Swiatek’s relentless baseline attack, Elena Rybakina’s big service game, and Aryna Sabalenka’s brute power. And somehow, Coco Gauff’s name is often ghosted from the discourse.
The receipts don’t lie though. Gauff is currently World No. 2, the highest-paid athlete in women’s sports, with ten career singles titles, two of them majors—However, it feels as if there’s still a residue of doubt—as if she hasn’t arrived, as if she’s still auditioning for a seat at the table. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t always obliterate opponents. Instead, she outthinks them. Outsmarts them. Disarms them—quietly.
Last weekend’s final wasn’t a total slugfest between the game’s best two players. And while Sabalenka was playing Battleship, aimlessly hurling errant bombs in Gauff’s general direction, Coco was playing chess. Instead of going toe-to-toe with Sabalenka, she used her forehand like a Swiss army knife—hitting loopy topspin balls that kicked up high, punchy slices, and off-pace shots which collectively, were more precise and more consistent.
Gauff didn’t need to outhit Sabalenka. She just needed to keep the ball in play, lure Sabalenka into overreaching (and overreacting), keep her moving, and keep her guessing. The result? Seventy (that’s right, SEVENTY) unforced errors from the Belarusian. Errors that Coco Gauff architected purposefully by way of the variety. And when she got the look she wanted, the backhand—her true weapon—forced the issue and did its damage too.
If this sounds familiar, it should. Gauff cooked up the same recipe at the 2023 US Open final, when Sabalenka coughed up 46 errors. It’s not an accident. It’s not luck. It’s not “Winning Ugly.” It’s game.
In her post match presser, a sodium enriched Sabalenka provided the following comment, failing to acknowledge some obvious realities around the match (she later issued a statement “clarifying” her comments).
"I think it was more windy. Also I think I was over emotional. Today I didn’t handle myself quite well mentally. Basically that’s it. I was just making unforced errors. I don’t know. I have to check the statistics. I think she won the match not because she played incredible. Just because I made all of those mistakes, if you look from the outside, from kind of easy balls." She went on to add, "If Iga had beaten me the other day, I think she’d come out today and get the win," Sabalenka said.
No matter which side you look from, Gauff didn’t need to be "incredible" by Sabalenka’s definition. She just had to be better than Sabalenka. And she was. Full stop.
As for Swiatek? Gauff’s beaten her in straight sets three times in a row. Sabalenka beat Swiatek, Gauff beat Sabalenka… you do the math.
There’s more than one way to win a tennis match. Gauff reminded us of that—putting on a defensive clinic and choosing her moments to strike. She could only play the person in front of her. On Saturday, that person wasn’t Swiatek. It was Sabalenka—and Gauff took care of business.
In looking at Gauff’s performance, I’m reminded of Muhammad Ali’s legendary rope-a-dope strategy. Ali knew better than to trade haymakers with George Foreman. Instead, he leaned back on the ropes, absorbed the blows, and let Foreman punch himself out before flipping the script. Ali’s genius wasn’t just in what he threw—it was in what he made his opponent do to themselves.
Or consider Floyd Mayweather. He wasn’t the flashiest knockout artist, but that shoulder roll, that Philly Shell defense, made him almost untouchable. Opponents swung, missed, and got frustrated, exhausted. Meanwhile, Mayweather picked his spots, landed clean counters, and racked up wins.
Even in team sports, the blueprint holds. Over the last decade, my beloved Golden State Warriors dazzled the world with their shooting, but don’t forget—at their best, they were dangerous on defense. Draymond Green anchored squads (with the likes of Klay Thompson, Andre Iguodala, Andrew Bogut to name a few) that used defensive stops to fuel the fast break. Defense was their rhythm disruptor, and the accelerant for their offense.
Coco Gauff is building the modern tennis version of that blueprint. She’s not just reacting—she’s dictating with defense, turning her opponents’ strengths into weaknesses. Her footwork and athleticism give her a foundation to stay in points most players would bail on. And when the opening comes, that backhand fires like an uppercut to the chin.
Gauff is also patient. When the forehand isn’t firing winners, she turns it into a painter’s brush—using angles, spins, and trajectories to stretch and stress her opponents. That’s the kind of versatility that wins big matches, that travels across surfaces, that holds up under pressure. And if she levels up that forehand? It’s a wrap. With her defense and movement already elite, she’d be an absolute terror with reliable weapons on both wings.
For now, she’s already made her point—twice. Her game hits where it counts: on the scoreboard, in the heads of her opponents, and now—hopefully—in the conversations that have too long overlooked her.
It’s safe to say Coco Gauff has earned her seat at the table among the game's best. She's a two time Grand Slam champion and “looking from the outside,” it’s time to put some respect on her game.
