MELBOURNE, Australia β The first crowded days of the Australian Open often feel like the beginning of the school year.
Players return from their break, however short it is, rested and full of promise for what the new season might bring. There has been plenty of that this year, but also plenty of something else.
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During the first three rounds, on seemingly every other court and behind every other microphone, there was another example of the formerly walking wounded or sidelined, speaking with hope and gratitude for returning to something many of them had taken for granted during the early years of their careers.
There was Stefanos Tsitsipas, who spent last year nursing an ailing back.
There was Grigor Dimitrov, who tore a pectoral muscle two sets to love up against Jannik Sinner in the Wimbledon quarterfinals, an injury that required surgery and amounted to his fifth retirement in five Grand Slams.
There was KarolΓna MuchovΓ‘, who retired from three of her last eight matches of 2025, but has found some solidity in her ailing wrist.
There was Paola Badosa (back); Tommy Paul (shoulder, adductor, ruptured tendon in his foot); Hubert Hurkacz (torn meniscus); Sloane Stephens (stress fracture in her foot); Shang Juncheng (a bone spur and stress fracture in his foot) and Ben Shelton (shoulder strain).
All of them had moments when they looked into the abyss, wondering what the next tennis version of themselves might look like β or whether it would exist at all.
βResults donβt even matter to me.
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