“What’s going on with Iga Świątek?!” is a question I’ve been asked repeatedly over the past three years. On the eve of Roland-Garros, my carefully considered answer is “Hell if I know!”
This won’t be long or particularly eloquent, because my passion for tennis might’ve been buried with my closest friend two years ago. Tennis, film and literature were the glue(s) that bonded us decades earlier and we spoke incessantly during majors and Masters, and even during 250s and World TeamTennis telecasts, because that’s how much we loved tennis and each other.
His absence can be measured in the tournaments he’s missed, and watching tennis without him still feels like tearing jagged sutures from a raw, fresh wound. Silly as it undoubtedly sounds to those who don’t follow the sport, I might’ve wept more for my friend after Carlos Alcaraz defeated Jannik Sinner on Chartrier last spring than I did after learning of his death. It was inconceivable that he would never see something so monumental, so glorious, that would’ve meant so much to him — and equally unimaginable that anything so wondrous could exist in a world without him.
You can forgive me, then, for not thinking Świątek’s dominance interruptus is the end of the world. She is 24 years old with six Slams to her name, having notched another Roland-Garros (in 2024) and a maiden Wimbledon (2025) since my most-read post about her was published. Her recent semifinal loss to Elina Svitolina in Rome was hardly troubling; Svitolina went on to claim the championship for the third time in her career and is now a dark horse favorite in Paris.
Yes, Aryna Sabalenka and Elena Rybakina are currently ahead of Świątek in the rankings and she’s had a two-year title drought on clay. I think the trio’s competitive jockeying is a sign of a healthy and exciting WTA field rather than, to paraphrase the Bard, a plague o’ all their houses (or at least a plague on Iga’s). But tennis fandom and punditry — not to mention degenerate gamblers — thrive on drama and negativity, and when you toss in Świątek’s coaching upheaval, unjust doping distraction, and the strange hostility a percentage of fans and analysts vocally harbor toward her… well, as Carl Weathers would say, baby, you’ve got a stew going.
As for the coaching conundrum, Świątek herself has pointed out that it’s her career, her decisions, and she’s privy to information we aren’t. She’s right that her judgment’s taken her this far and it’s hard to argue with those results. However, I would’ve preferred to see other team changes before cutting Wim Fissette loose, even if new hire Francisco Roig seems like a good fit. A trial separation from Daria Abramowicz, Świątek’s sports psychologist whose omnipresence at this point can most charitably be described as Eugene Landy-esque, would’ve been a nice place to start.
In my opinion, and I don’t say this lightly, Świątek occasionally has autistic meltdowns on-court. If you’ve seen her panicked, controversial arm-waving mid-point and similar lapses in judgment that occur when she’s overstimulated, that’s what I’m talking about. Those are eminently fixable problems that Abramowicz has had ample time to address, yet it continues to happen, always pouring more fuel on the “Iga’s too emotionally fragile” fire — one that’s hard enough to extinguish without her ubiquitous psychologist shouting at her from the stands like they’re mother and child.
Such hiccups make me question whether Abramowicz recognizes the meltdowns are more of a hardware issue than a software issue, so to speak, but that’s only one coaching qualm among many and I’ve already dwelled too much on a subject I’m loath to approach when the Internet’s so full of asinine ‘autistic’ discourse that’s stripped the term of any meaning. It’s merely my suspicion (albeit a Lincoln-Hawk-arm-wrestling-strong suspicion) that Iga’s of the high-functioning autistic persuasion; she’s kept it to herself if she knows that to be the case and I wouldn’t want the added scrutiny, either.
To sloppily wrap this up, having already rambled for longer than intended: Yes, it’s been a strange past couple years for Świątek. No, I don’t think she’s won her last Slam or found herself in a Hingis situation where the game has suddenly passed her by. Sabalenka has a mercurial nature, unlike Świątek, and distractions of her own that will make her consistency difficult to maintain. (Have you seen how she holds her new dog? Newly engaged to someone else’s husband, she’s already thinking ahead to motherhood.) Rybakina’s shaky health and grim coaching situation present their own obvious challenges. Świątek will be back on top eventually, is my guess, but I couldn’t tell you when or how she gets there.
Cranky Lesbian is a disgruntled homosexual with too much time on her hands. Click for film reviews or to follow on Instagram.
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