It’s Not the Match, It’s the Story: How tennis won me over
I never cared much for tennis. Even after my recent venture into Padel, watching racket sports never quite interested me.
Last summer I found myself amidst the craziness of Wimbledon - my office was located there - so my daily commute to work left me engulfed in tennis propaganda. Any Londoner or tennis fan who’s been to Wimbledon knows, that those 10 days in July, tennis takes over the city.
But I didn’t crack. Even when agreeing to get some grounds tickets with a co-worker, some surprise tickets to Silverstone took precedence for my attention – a narrow miss for tennis again.
It wasn’t until I was sitting on the Jubilee line on my way back from a game of Padel, did my disinterest take a turn. As I shamelessly shoulder surfed the man sitting beside me, I noticed he was watching the Wimbledon Men’s singles final. Having nearly an hour journey home, I was in desperate need of some entertainment. I promptly googled “Wimbledon Livestream”, tuning into the second set of the final between Novak Djokovic and Carlos Alcaraz.
The commentators were telling the story of young Alcaraz, who was up on Djokovic at this point. No small feat they were saying, to not only be up against one of the greats, but also the favourite to win. I watched on, intrigued by the story. Carlos seemed to have it in the bag, as far as my tennis knowledge went. An emotional rollercoaster I wasn’t prepared for followed. I was hooked. I wanted Alcaraz to win. But why? I’ve only just learned about him an hour ago…
What piqued my attention was the players’ raw emotions on the court. I never realised how much of a mental game tennis was. Now having marginally more knowledge of tennis, I realise that those two are not nearly the most emotional, but even with them you could feel what was at stake. And you could definitely feel what it meant for Carlos when he finally secured the title. I followed Carlos on Instagram, and that was the end of my venture into tennis…for the moment.
Now I will admit, I did watch Break Point at the start of the year – didn’t love it, it didn’t feel authentic – but it gave me some insight into some different players, and more importantly, it re-ignited my interest in watching tennis. Conveniently, the Australian Open was in full swing.
The shining star of this year’s Australian Open is undoubtably Ben Shelton, who at the moment of me writing this, has qualified for the semi-final against world no. 1, Jannik Sinner.
My interest had at this point moved to TikTok where the algorithm was working overtime to show me all the tennis content it possibly could. Interviews, behind-the-scenes stuff, match highlights, I was once again hooked. But I wasn’t hooked by the game, I was hooked by the players. In all my tennis content doom scrolling, I recognised something very important happening, and it was the very thing that had previously made me into the diehard F1 fan that I am today. A story was being written, and I wanted to see how it would end.
At first, I only had passing knowledge of Ben Shelton from Break Point. He was just another name to remember. But the more I watched, the more I realised he wasn’t just rising through the ranks; he was bringing a whole new energy to the sport.
Ben isn’t just skilled – he’s fun. He plays with this fearless, almost reckless energy, but it’s his off-court personality that really pulls you in. He’s really living in the moment, cracking jokes, flashing an infectious grin, and somehow making high-stakes tennis look like a pick-up game with friends. He’s so young, so new to all of this, that he carries this lightheartedness into even the biggest matches. And it’s exactly what makes him so captivating. Seeing him move up into the semis at the Australian Open felt like watching a story unfold in real time, the kind that keeps you hooked, not just for the outcome, but for the way it all plays out.
Although this story that shone through the plethora of TikToks I watched was most likely unintentional, it raised a critical strategy that sports communicators and content creators must embrace. Emotions sell sport.
Thinking back to the Wimbledon men’s final – within an hour, I wasn’t just watching, I was invested. I had no knowledge of the nuances of the game. No prior allegiances. But the story of ambition, pressure, and the shifting of eras was enough to turn me into a fan of a player I didn’t even know existed until that day.
Sports thrive on moments, but it’s the narratives that make those moments stick.
Individual sports don’t have the luxury of team spirit. There is just the players and the game. Fans don’t root for a logo or a jersey, they get attached to the athletes who make them feel something. To their stories. To their personalities. To the way they carry themselves in victory and defeat. This is exactly why Drive to Survive was such a game-changer. It didn’t just tell a story; it created emotion. It gave fans someone to love, someone to hate, and a reason to care about every race, even if they’d never watched Formula 1 before.
It’s no secret that storytelling works, but the real power isn’t in the story itself, it’s in the feeling it creates. It’s like a bridge, connecting fans to the game, the players, and to the emotions that make sports so compelling. That is what keeps us hooked.
Now, let me ask you – did my story make you want to follow along and see how it ends? Funny how that works, isn’t it?
