The Rhythm of the US Open: Pegula and Medvedev Advance, Alcaraz and Sabalenka Face Title Defense Pressure

When I walked into the press area at Flushing Meadows at 10 a.m., the Arthur Ashe court was still damp with dew. People watch the match, I watch the breath of the match. And today, that breath is more urgent than ever, because Tuesday night's rain has compressed 25 men's singles matches into a single day of play. I have been sitting here for 47 years, through generations of tennis, but I have never seen such a congested schedule. Players are not only fighting opponents; they are fighting the clock, accumulated fatigue, and the limits of their own bodies. Jessica Pegula stepped onto the court like a Swiss watch. Her match against Sofia Kenin, a former Grand Slam champion, ended in just 56 minutes with a score of 6-3, 6-1. I have watched her since her early days on tour, and what impresses me is not her powerful shots, but the way she maintains a steady rhythm of movement like a dancer who has practiced for thousands of hours. Pegula does not try to end points with crazy winners; she simply pushes opponents into difficult corners, creating cumulative pressure. Kenin, who won the Australian Open in 2026, is no longer herself after multiple injuries. She needed three sets to get past the 43-year-old Venus Williams in the first round, and against Pegula, that inconsistency was exposed mercilessly. But I am not quick to praise Pegula. I remember telling a young colleague once: "Don't rush to conclusions before the match is over." A quick win in the second round guarantees nothing in the fourth round, where players with better match-reading abilities will be waiting. Daniil Medvedev also won in straight sets, but what I noticed was not the scoreline. I observed how he adjusted his return position. The Russian, the 2026 US Open champion, has a special ability: he reads the trajectory of the ball from the moment it leaves the opponent's racket. Against Gorzny, a young Austrian, Medvedev did not need to use his usual deep defensive play. He stood closer, returned earlier, and that prevented his opponent from ever getting a comfortable hitting rhythm. But I wonder: will this tactic work against a big server like Hurkacz or Shelton? At a Grand Slam, each round is a different test, and Medvedev knows that well. He never shows much emotion on court, but I saw him clench his fist after every important point - a sign of intense focus, not anxiety. When the court is empty, I hear the voice of the match more clearly. During Carlos Alcaraz's closed practice session on Wednesday afternoon, I stood in a far corner so as not to disturb. The Spaniard, who has been out since April with a right wrist injury, moved quite cautiously. I noticed he was not hitting his usual heavy topspin forehands. Instead, Alcaraz chose flatter shots, controlling the ball with depth rather than speed. This reminded me of a phrase I always keep in my profession: "A tactic never dies; it just waits for someone who understands it." Alcaraz is adapting, and that is the sign of a true champion. But the wrist is a sensitive area. On hard courts, the impact on the wrist when hitting a two-handed backhand is even greater than on the forehand. I have seen many young talents ruin their careers due to wrist injuries, and I just hope his medical team has a proper plan for managing practice load. If Alcaraz goes deep, he will face powerful servers, where every return creates shock. That is a test not only of technique, but also of the patience of his entire team. Aryna Sabalenka, who is pursuing her third consecutive US Open title, has an unusually calm demeanor. She did not play that day, but I saw her sitting in the stands watching a match of a potential opponent. I always observe how players use their free time. Sabalenka did not take notes, did not look at her phone. She just stared at the court, as if memorizing every ball trajectory. People often talk about her power, but I see a cold focus. Since winning here in 2026, she has become a different player - not just strong but also capable of restraint. I remember writing in an analysis once: "Fans are never just spectators; they are the rhythm keepers with me." And with Sabalenka, she is keeping rhythm with history. Only Serena Williams has won the US Open three consecutive years in the Open Era, from 2026 to 2026. If Sabalenka does that, she enters a completely different class. But I cannot help thinking about an inconsistency in the AP article. They call both Alcaraz and Sabalenka "defending champions" in the same year. That is wrong. Carlos Alcaraz won the US Open in 2026, and Aryna Sabalenka won in 2026. They cannot both be defending champions at the same edition. This mistake may seem minor, but it reflects a larger problem in sports media today - we are too quick to label, too easily adopt pre-packaged narratives without careful verification. For someone who observes professionally like me, accuracy is the foundation of respect. If we cannot correctly identify who the defending champion is, how can we accurately analyze the points defense pressure they face? Alcaraz actually has no points to defend at the US Open this year, since he lost in the semifinals last year. That completely changes the story about his motivation. The rain created a historic day of play: 25 men's singles matches in one day. This is not only a physical challenge, but also a logistical puzzle. Players have to move between courts, adjust to changing light conditions, and most importantly, reduce recovery time between rounds. I have seen cases where players had to play two matches on consecutive days at smaller tournaments, but at a Grand Slam, this density is unusual. The advantage goes to those who can finish matches quickly. Pegula did it in 56 minutes. Medvedev did too. But young players like Michelsen or Nakashima, who might go through five-set battles, will enter the third round with heavy legs. That is why I always tell young reporters: "Observation is not standing outside; it is standing in the right place." And the right place today is in the back row, where I can see the difference between players who are controlling their own heartbeat and those who are being controlled by the match. Ben Shelton, the 8th seed, will face Hubert Hurkacz in the second round. This is a match I am really looking forward to, because it pits two generations of the biggest servers. Shelton has a difficult lefty serve, while Hurkacz possesses one of the best serves on tour. But this match will be decided not by serves, but by return ability. I watched Shelton practice and noticed he has significantly improved his second-serve return position. He stands closer, ready to attack as soon as the ball bounces. This shows tactical maturity. As for Frances Tiafoe, the 11th seed, he will face qualifier Sakamoto. Tiafoe is one of the most emotional players, and I always enjoy how he connects with the crowd. He does not just play tennis; he performs. But emotion can be a double-edged sword. If he lets the crowd sweep him into spectacular rallies, he might lose focus on important points. I hope he has learned how to keep rhythm between explosive moments. What troubles me most today is how we - the media - often overlook the fragility of players. We look at rankings, at beautiful shots, and forget that behind every victory is a body that must endure. I went into the US team's locker room after their match against Iran at the 2026 World Cup, and I learned that respecting boundaries is the most important thing. Players are not machines. They have pains, doubts, silent moments. When I interview them, I always ask: "What do you want me to write most?" - instead of imposing my story. And the answers often surprise me. They do not talk about winners or titles. They talk about loneliness on court, about fear of injury, about the silent sacrifices of their families. Alcaraz may go deep in this tournament, because his talent is undeniable. But I would not be surprised if he is eliminated early. The wrist is an unpredictable area. I have seen many players try to compete before fully recovering and pay the price with months of inactivity. The wisest thing Alcaraz can do is accept an imperfect tournament, accept defeat if necessary, and protect his long-term career. But I also understand that at 21, with a Grand Slam title in sight, patience is the hardest thing to have. Sabalenka, in contrast, has an incredible stability. She has played continuously, shows no signs of injury, and seems to be at the peak of her form. But I wonder if she is bearing a greater psychological pressure than she shows. Three consecutive titles is a historic milestone, and history always weighs heavily on those who chase it. I remember when I was young, I thought records were the greatest motivation. But after many years of observation, I realize that the greatest players do not think about records. They think about each point, each match. And when they do that, records come naturally. The most notable match of the day is probably the clash between Shelton and Hurkacz. Both have big serves, but return ability will decide. I have watched Hurkacz many times and he has a special ability to read serve direction. He does not move much, but always puts his racket in the right position. Shelton is younger, faster, but sometimes lacks patience. If the match goes to a fifth set, I would bet on Shelton because he has better stamina. But if Hurkacz maintains a consistent serve rhythm, he could finish in three or four sets. This is a match I will document carefully, not just for the result, but for the small details - how they stand when returning, how they handle crucial points, how they react to umpire decisions. I have lived through many eras of tennis. I saw the rise of American players like Andy Roddick, then the dominance of Federer, Nadal, Djokovic. And now, I am witnessing a new generation - players like Alcaraz, Shelton, Tiafoe - who are not afraid of any name. There are nine American men playing on the same day, and that says that American tennis has a depth we have not seen in decades. But that depth needs to be nurtured with patience and strategy, not just with first-round or second-round wins. As I left the court at 11 p.m., I saw young players practicing under the lights. They had no audience, no cameras. They only had their balls and their dreams. I suddenly remembered a phrase from an old colleague: "I am old, but the heartbeat of the ball never ages." Indeed. The ball still bounces, still spins, still flies over the net as it has for hundreds of years. And I, at 63, still sit here, observing, documenting, and passing on what I see to the next generation. Because that is the only way this sport continues to live - not through titles, but through stories told with honesty and respect. Tonight, as I write these lines, I do not know who will win the US Open this year. But I know that the breath of the match will continue, through every shot, through every pause, through every match that stretches to the final minutes. And I will be there, as I always have been, to listen and to record.