I sat in awe as I watched the legendary Coco Gauff serve the ball.
She threw it up and smashed the yellow blur across the court.
Back and forth, my head swayed with the movement of the ball.
During the rally, everyone was silent (a policy for spectators), but it was more than just quietness. There was a respect for her and her doubles partner in this round of the Olympics.
This was the girl who beat Venus Williams at 15 years old in her Wimbledon debut.
Just a few days prior, she carried the flag for America across the Seine with the legend LeBron James.
Watching her play, I stayed silent in awe of her talent, wanting to take in every moment.
I couldn’t believe I got to see the Serena Williams of this generation.
This was my first time watching a pro-tennis match, and it was a memory I’ll cherish forever. I loved every second of it.
But something felt different from the other sporting events I frequent.
No music played between sets. No extreme cheers could be heard during play. Fans were dressed nicely.
While it’s tennis tradition, this sports scene was something I had never experienced.
A few hours before this tennis match, I was at beach volleyball.
This sports scene was what I knew.
Loud music played during any moment possible. Fans screamed during play and dressed in usual sports gear, some even shirtless or in bikini tops.
The atmosphere radiated fun and extreme exhilaration.
Chants broke out mid game, and I felt a part of the two-person team, celebrating their game point with them.
Within two hours I experienced two sports atmospheres that were completely different from each other.
Yet, they each shared one quality. The quality that I seek most from live sports: “the feeling.”
Some get it from live concerts or theater performances.
It’s the sensation that runs through your chest and radiates in your heart. It’s the feeling that lets you reassure you're exactly in the place you need to be, want to be.
You’re consumed by the atmosphere and revel in the electrifying thrill.
After attending these sports with very opposite traditions, I realized an important lesson.
In the end, it’s not about tennis or beach volleyball. It’s about the love for live sports, the magic of being there, and the feeling that sweeps over you when you’re part of something larger than yourself.
So yes, watching Coco Gauff made me feel the passion for a sport I wasn’t well-versed in. But, seeing her live could make the least likely sports fan feel chills.
Prior to Coco, we watched matches with players nowhere near her status. I still loved every second.
This made me realize the players didn’t matter. The stakes in each game didn’t matter.
All that mattered is the heat of the moment, the electricity of the experience and the pure love of any competition. That’s what keeps me coming back, game after game, no matter the sport. At the end of the day, these were events in which I got “the feeling.”
The feeling that unites people over sports. The feeling of absolute love of the game.
