Genius or Chance?

(I usually write my blog in Russian — this is the translated version). As a professional photojournalist, I’m convinced: great shots are never just luck. They’re born out of preparation, intuition, and relentless work. I’ve photographed tennis at countless Grand Slam events, and Ray Giubilo’s image of Jasmine Paolini at the 2025 US Open is a striking reminder of how sport can give a photographer the perfect stage to reveal their artistry. The question is: was this frame pure chance—or true genius?

Обычный, добротный теннисный кадр. Жасмин Паолини. (С) Ray Giubilo

Гениальный кадр этой же теннисистки (С) Ray Giubilo

Фотогорреспондент Рэй Джубило

First, the image itself. This isn’t just another forehand. Paolini, seeded seventh in New York, briefly lost her balance during her opening-round match against Destanee Aiava. Instinctively, she raised her Yonex racquet toward her face to steady herself. The logo on the strings aligned perfectly with her eyes and mouth, creating the eerie illusion of a Halloween mask. The blurred blue backdrop of Flushing Meadows made the figure pop, while her pose radiated dynamism: bent knees, outstretched arm, slight tilt of the body.

As always at this venue, the shutter speed was razor-sharp—likely 1/4000 of a second or faster—to freeze the action in the arena’s lighting. The composition was flawless, the racquet centered in the frame. Yet the result was equal parts comic and unsettling. Normally, tennis imagery leans toward clean, powerful motion shots (I’ve included examples for context). Photographers take hundreds, even thousands, of those.

But this kind of “alignment effect” is one in a million. A nanosecond earlier or later, and the illusion would vanish.

Now, the matter of chance. Yes, the moment itself was pure luck. Paolini “just swung the racquet back differently than usual,” Giubilo admitted. Out of curiosity, the next day he and colleagues tried to recreate it, taking hundreds of frames—without success.

In tennis, where actions are highly repetitive, such anomalies are rare. Players drill their movements to the point of automatism, and they rarely lose balance. But luck is relative. Without Giubilo’s chosen position—seated near Paolini’s box, focusing on her emotions and connection with her team—the shot wouldn’t exist. He had been waiting years for “something like this.” That’s not blind luck—it’s patience rewarded. In my own career, I’ve seen rookies miss even simpler moments because they didn’t anticipate them. Sport throws surprises, but it’s the professional who turns them into art.

So is Giubilo a genius? He’s a master of his craft, and as a long-time colleague I say this was a masterclass. With 37 years in the profession, his journey began in Australia, where he worked in tennis apparel before moving into photography with the encouragement of legends like John Newcombe. He has covered more than 100 Grand Slams, including 31 US Opens. At majors, he shoots 20 matches a day across 14-hour shifts—an athlete’s stamina with a camera.

At 69, he’s still on court. And this photo went viral: his Instagram following jumped by thousands, one post of the image drew 1.3 million views, and for days it was everywhere online.

Technically, the shot was taken with a Nikon Z9 in high-speed sports mode. Giubilo works for the Italian press, which explains his persistence in covering Paolini so closely. He didn’t immediately realize the photo’s value—it was only on review that his cultivated instinct told him this was the moment. And he was right: he later called it the most valuable shot of his career.

Even Paolini herself noticed. After her next match, she approached him on court with a rare compliment from a player: “Great photo.” Giubilo humbly spoke of “help from above,” but the truth is different: the real talent lies in being ready for miracles.

For society, such photos elevate the profession. They prove that sports photography isn’t just craft or record-keeping—it’s art that shapes culture.

In the end, Paolini’s image is a perfect balance: chance opened the door, and Giubilo’s genius walked through it, turning an accident into a timeless frame.

It’s a reminder for all of us behind the lens: be patient, stay sharp—and the world will reveal itself in the most unexpected ways.