In the humid haze of Seoul’s Olympic Park Tennis Center, where the air hung heavy with the aftermath of monsoon rains, Emma Raducanu stepped onto the court for what should have been a routine first-round clash at the 2025 Korea Open. The 22-year-old British sensation, still chasing that elusive second WTA title since her fairy-tale 2021 US Open triumph, faced Romanian qualifier Jaqueline Cristian under a sky that had finally cleared—but the storm inside her was just beginning to brew. What unfolded wasn’t just a gritty 6-3, 6-4 victory; it was a raw, unraveling moment that left fans worldwide holding their breath, whispering the same chilling question: Did Emma Raducanu see her stalker again?
The match, already a casualty of nature’s whims, had been postponed from Tuesday amid torrential downpours that turned the courts into shallow pools. Crews worked feverishly Wednesday morning to mop up standing water, delaying the start yet again and fraying nerves already stretched thin by the tournament’s chaotic schedule. Raducanu, ranked No. 33 in the world, arrived in Korea fresh off a controversial decision: skipping Great Britain’s Billie Jean King Cup Finals to prioritize her singles ranking and hard-court momentum ahead of the Asian swing. It was a bold move that drew ire from team captain Anne Keothavong, who later vented in Shenzhen about the “disappointment” of Raducanu’s withdrawal, emphasizing the need for players to “put the team first sometimes.” But for Raducanu, every point in Seoul was a step toward reclaiming the form that had flickered so brightly earlier in the year—a semifinal run in Washington, a quarterfinal clash with Jessica Pegula in Miami—amid a season marred by nagging injuries and the relentless grind of the tour.
As the first set unfolded in sluggish, rally-heavy conditions on the slow hard courts, Raducanu appeared her usual composed self, trading baseline blows with the world No. 41 Cristian. The score sat at 3-3, with Raducanu serving at 40-15, when it happened. A netted forehand from the Brit handed her opponent two break points, and in that instant, the mask cracked. Raducanu’s shoulders slumped, her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her head in a towel. The crowd fell silent; her coach, the newly appointed Francisco Roig—fresh from stints with Rafael Nadal—paced the sideline with visible concern etched on his features. For a heart-stopping moment, play halted as officials and medics hovered, unsure whether to intervene. “Her coach looks worried too. I hope she’s OK,” one spectator posted online, capturing the collective anxiety rippling through the stands.
Raducanu, ever the fighter, wiped her eyes and steadied her breath. She saved both break points with a surge of defiance, reeling off three straight games to claim the set. The second was tighter, with Cristian mounting pressure and carving out chances of her own, but Raducanu’s resolve held firm. A forehand winner sealed the match after 1 hour and 42 minutes, her 28th win of a 2025 campaign that has shown flashes of the prodigy who stunned the world as an 18-year-old qualifier in New York. Yet, the victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the unexplained sobs that echoed a darker chapter in her life.
Fans, scrolling through grainy match footage that spread like wildfire across social media, didn’t hesitate to connect the dots. “Last time she broke down in tears like that was when her stalker showed up. Hopefully that ******* didn’t find their way into that stadium,” one supporter tweeted, their words laced with a mix of fury and fear. Another added, “She has enough on her shoulders without having to consider being stalked by creeps.” The references weren’t hyperbolic; they dredged up the nightmare that had haunted Raducanu just seven months earlier, in February 2025, during the Dubai Tennis Championships. There, in the opulent glow of the Duty Free Tennis Stadium, she had spotted him—a man exhibiting “fixated behavior”—mere meters away in the stands during her second-round duel with Karolina Muchova.
The ordeal had begun weeks prior, with the individual shadowing her across four tournaments: Singapore, Abu Dhabi, Doha, and finally Dubai. He had approached her strategically when she was alone—handing her a letter outside her hotel, lingering in a coffee shop the day before the match, watching her with an intensity that turned everyday routines into minefields. “I saw him in the first game of the match, and I was like, ‘I don’t know how I’m going to finish.’ I literally couldn’t see the ball through tears. I could barely breathe,” Raducanu later recounted, her voice cracking as she spoke to reporters at Indian Wells, her first event post-incident. She had hidden behind the umpire’s chair, play suspended as security ejected him. Dubai police detained the man, who signed a restraining order pledging to keep his distance, and the WTA banned him from all future events. Raducanu chose not to press charges, but the scars lingered. “It was a very emotional time,” she admitted. “It could have been dealt with better.”
This wasn’t her first brush with obsession’s shadow. Shortly after her US Open glory, in late 2021, another stalker, Amrit Magar, had trekked 23 miles to her family home in Bromley, pilfering her father’s shoe as a twisted souvenir and leaving unwanted gifts on the porch. A five-year restraining order followed in 2022, after courts heard how the intrusion left her “constantly looking over her shoulder.” These episodes underscore a grim undercurrent in women’s sports: the vulnerability that fame amplifies for young athletes like Raducanu, who skyrocketed from qualifier to global icon overnight. WTA chief executive Portia Archer later clarified it wasn’t a “security failure,” but the incident prompted enhanced protocols, including fixated-threat specialists at majors like Wimbledon, where the man was blocked from the public ballot in June 2025.
Post-match in Seoul, Raducanu addressed the tears head-on, offering a glimpse into the toll of the tour’s unrelenting pace. “It hasn’t been easy,” she said, her tone measured but weary. “The delays, the waiting around—it’s frustrating when you’re trying to stay in the zone. I just felt overwhelmed in that moment, but I had to push through.” No mention of the stalker, but the timing reignited debates about player safety in an era of packed calendars and border-hopping crowds. Some skeptics dismissed it as “crying on court becoming a trend,” but most rallied around her resilience. “Whatever it was, she regrouped in a big way. Straight sets victory where Emma really stepped up her level on big points,” one fan noted approvingly.
Now, with a quick turnaround looming—a second-round showdown against former French Open champion Barbora Krejcikova on Thursday, potentially setting up a third-round blockbuster with world No. 1 Iga Swiatek—Raducanu’s focus sharpens. She’s leaned on Roig for stability, ditching the revolving door of coaches that plagued her post-US Open years. Her 2025 stats—27-18 overall, a career-high consistency despite back spasms that sidelined her at Roland Garros—hint at a resurgence. Off-court, endorsements with Nike, Dior, and Porsche keep her in the spotlight, even as whispers of her axed Vodafone deal in April underscore the pressures of stardom.
Yet, beneath the baseline battles lies a deeper fight: for security, for serenity. Raducanu has adapted, traveling with a tighter entourage—”always with someone and always being watched,” as she put it ahead of Wimbledon. “I’m obviously wary when I go out,” she confessed in June. “You only realise how much of a problem it is when you’re in that situation.” In Korea, that wariness won the day, turning vulnerability into victory. As the tournament progresses, fans won’t just cheer her groundstrokes; they’ll watch for shadows, hoping the court’s lights stay bright enough to keep the darkness at bay. For Emma Raducanu, every match is a testament—not just to talent, but to tenacity in the face of unseen threats.
Leave a Reply