When Photographer and Tennis Player Meet on the Line of Attention

To capture the “unexpected” shot, you must always be prepared! From this angle, Rafa Nadal reveals a new side of himself. © Sergey Vishnevsky

Recently, I wrote about the incident with Medvedev and a photographer at the US Open. It reminded me once again: tennis and photography go hand in hand. We are always close, but must remain “invisible.”

Working at Grand Slam tournaments, I have often felt this paradox: hundreds of accredited colleagues around the stadium, but only a handful gain access to the photo pit, right by the baseline. That is not just luck — it’s responsibility. Every click of the shutter there can become history.

US Open, 1991 — Jimmy Connors vs. Aaron Krickstein. At 39, Connors raised his fist and shattered the silence of the stadium. The Sports Illustrated photo became an image of the eternal fighter.

But camera skills alone are not enough. The work of a sports photographer demands immense diligence and endurance. Sometimes you spend hours under the blazing sun or in freezing wind, when a match drags on past midnight. It feels like you have already captured every possible shot — swings, strokes, emotions. Yet a true professional knows: tennis movements repeat, but that unique moment may happen in the very next game. You cannot miss it. What matters then is patience, discipline, and instinct.

Boris Becker, Wimbledon 1985. © Reuters

This is how legendary images were born. At Wimbledon 1985, the young Boris Becker literally hovered above the grass in mid-air. Those pictures etched themselves into memory even stronger than the match itself.

Federer once said: “In movement captured on photo lies the truth of tennis.” I see it every time: the character, the nerve, the inner struggle of a player can already be read in a single swing.

Roland Garros, 2005. Rafael Nadal’s first title — he falls to the clay, arms wide open. The shot that marked the beginning of the “Rafa era.” © Getty Images

Photography gives the viewer what even live broadcast cannot. Video you can rewind, but a photo is eternity. That’s why Nadal admitted: sometimes images help him relive emotions more deeply.

Our craft is a constant balance. Discipline, respect for players and rules — and at the same time risk, intuition, and the readiness to wait for the moment, even when it feels like you have no strength left. Sometimes you sit by the net and realize: in a second the shot is either yours — or lost forever.