Naturally, I’m a shy person. I’ve had to work for a long time to feel confident around new people or those I’m not overly familiar with.
Conversation doesn’t come easily, and while I’ve improved, it’s definitely still a work in progress.
But when it comes to sports it’s a completely different story.
On the field or in the stands, I’m transformed.
I could be the only voice in the stadium yelling US comedian Rob Schneider’s iconic “You can do it!” and it wouldn’t faze me.
Sports bring out the energy and passion in all of us, and when the crowd seems dull, I’ll do my best to liven it up for at least a couple of rows.
But I also understand the importance of respecting the codes and rules that come with each sport. There’s a line between creating an atmosphere and being outright disrespectful.
The controversy surrounding the Australian Open crowd this year made me think a lot about that balance.
As the tournament wrapped up this past weekend, there were plenty of great matches and stories to celebrate.
Yet, one of the loudest debates wasn’t about the players but about the crowd itself.
Were they disrespectful? Were they unruly? Or were they just fans having a good time?
Throughout the event, there were moments when fans cheered too loudly between points, yelled out during quiet moments, and sometimes cheered for mere unforced errors.
Yes, umpires had to step in and remind them to keep it down—and they did their jobs well. But then the media took over, turning it into a spectacle.
Press conferences were flooded with questions to players about whether they felt disrespected by the Australian crowd, with narratives painting fans as over-the-top and rude.
But why? Because they cheered for their own? Because they weren’t equally supportive of everyone on the court?
Danielle Collins, Jack Draper, and even Novak Djokovic didn’t get the same level of support as the Australians—and they were likely never going to.
It was the Australian Open, and the fans were unapologetically backing their own.
Sure, tennis has traditionally been a sport of quiet, polite applause and cheers, where the crowd reacts only after a point is finished.
But times are changing. Tennis is evolving, partly due to the colourful personalities of today’s players. And so is its audience.
Let’s be clear: cheering wildly or even booing isn’t always appropriate. But being passionate doesn’t necessarily equate to being disrespectful.
The crowd wasn’t trying to diminish the players’ efforts—they were just showing their excitement, their love for the game, and their loyalty to their favourites.
From my perspective, the Australian Open crowd wasn’t disrespectful. They were lively, enthusiastic, and letting their inner Rob Schneider shine.
They paid for their seats, and they came to cheer, scream, and support.
While players have every right to voice their feelings about the atmosphere, labelling the crowd as outright rude doesn’t feel fair.
Sport is meant to be passionate. It’s about the moments that make us leap from our seats, high-five strangers, or shout words of encouragement to players who can’t even hear us.
Sometimes, that enthusiasm spills over. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.
After all, isn’t that what makes live sport so special?