On the Eve of the Australian Open, Emma Raducanu Made a Move That Left Everyone Speechless

Melbourne, Australia – January 11, 2026

The Australian Open is supposed to begin with the familiar rhythm of tennis: warm-up shots echoing across practice courts, the click of rackets being strung, the murmur of anticipation as players arrive for media day. On the afternoon of January 11, 2026, everything followed that script—until it didn’t.

Emma Raducanu, the 23-year-old former US Open champion seeded No. 15, had been scheduled for a 2:30 p.m. press conference at Melbourne Park. Reporters waited. Photographers adjusted lenses. Tournament staff checked microphones. But at 2:35 p.m., an official stepped onto the dais and delivered a single sentence that froze the room:

“Emma Raducanu will not be attending today’s media obligations. We will provide an update when available.”

No explanation. No injury bulletin. No substitute interview. Just silence.

By 4:00 p.m., the first rumors appeared on X: “Raducanu spotted leaving the hotel in a private car—no racquet bag.” By 5:30 p.m., grainy photos circulated of a dark SUV pulling up to the emergency entrance of The Alfred Hospital in downtown Melbourne. By 7:00 p.m., Australian tabloids had published the headline that would dominate every tennis feed on the planet:

Emma Raducanu Rushes to Hospital Hours Before Australian Open Begins

What happened next would transform the way the tennis world sees one of its most enigmatic young stars.

According to multiple sources close to the situation (who spoke on condition of anonymity due to medical privacy laws), Raducanu had begun feeling severe abdominal pain during her final hit session that morning. She initially dismissed it as nerves or a minor muscle strain—common complaints in the first week of a Grand Slam. But by early afternoon the pain had intensified to the point that she could barely stand upright. Her physio and team doctor made the call: she needed immediate medical evaluation.

At approximately 1:45 p.m., Raducanu left her hotel through a service exit to avoid photographers and was driven straight to The Alfred, one of Melbourne’s largest trauma centers. There, after a series of urgent scans and consultations, doctors diagnosed acute appendicitis.

Surgery was recommended without delay.

At 4:20 p.m. local time, Emma Raducanu was wheeled into the operating theatre for an emergency laparoscopic appendectomy. The procedure lasted 52 minutes and was described by hospital staff as “routine and successful.” She remained under observation overnight, heavily sedated and receiving intravenous antibiotics.

By 10:00 p.m. that evening, the British media had confirmed the story. The LTA issued a brief statement on behalf of the player:

“Emma underwent emergency surgery this afternoon for acute appendicitis. The operation was successful and she is now resting comfortably. She will remain in hospital for monitoring over the coming days. Emma is devastated to miss the Australian Open but is focused on a full recovery. She thanks the medical team at The Alfred, her support staff, and everyone who has sent messages of support.”

The tennis world reacted with a mixture of shock, sympathy, and stunned admiration.

Novak Djokovic, who had practiced on an adjacent court that morning, posted on Instagram: “Wishing Emma a speedy recovery. You’re tougher than any of us knew. Get well soon ❤️”

Iga Świątek, the world No. 1, wrote simply: “Thinking of you, Emma. Sending strength.”

Even players who rarely interact with Raducanu publicly offered support. Carlos Alcaraz: “That’s brutal timing. She’s a fighter. She’ll be back stronger.” Aryna Sabalenka: “Life comes first. Heal fast, Emma.”

Fans flooded social media with the hashtag #GetWellEmma, which trended worldwide within hours. Thousands shared old clips of her 2021 US Open run—reminding everyone how far she had come since becoming, at 18, the first qualifier to win a major in the Open Era.

But beneath the well-wishes lay a deeper, quieter shift in perception.

For years, Emma Raducanu had been defined almost exclusively by two narratives: prodigious talent and unrelenting pressure. The 2021 fairy tale was followed by injuries (wrist, ankle, back), coaching changes (seven in four years), early-round losses, and endless scrutiny about her “mental strength.” Many observers—inside and outside the sport—had quietly placed her in the “what if” category: brilliant but brittle, a one-hit wonder who couldn’t handle the grind.

Then came the appendicitis.

In the space of a few hours, Raducanu did something no press conference, no Instagram post, no on-court comeback could achieve: she reminded the world that she is human.

She didn’t choose the timing. She didn’t orchestrate a dramatic exit. She simply listened to her body when it screamed, trusted the people around her, and allowed herself to be taken care of. For an athlete whose every move has been dissected since she was 18, that act of vulnerability felt revolutionary.

Suddenly, the conversation changed.

Writers who once questioned her “durability” began writing about resilience in a different light. Commentators who had criticized her for “not fighting through pain” now praised her for knowing when to stop. Even some long-time skeptics admitted they had misjudged her character.

“She’s not fragile,” wrote veteran British journalist Eleanor Crooks in The Independent. “She’s finally allowed to be mortal. And in doing so, she may have become more unbreakable than ever.”

By the morning of January 12, as qualifying matches began on the outer courts of Melbourne Park, Raducanu’s name was everywhere—not because of a title defense or a big win, but because of what she didn’t do.

She didn’t play.

She didn’t pretend everything was fine.

She went to the hospital, had surgery, and let the world see that even Grand Slam champions can be felled by something as ordinary—and terrifying—as appendicitis.

In the days that followed, updates were carefully managed. Raducanu was discharged from hospital on January 14 and returned to her Melbourne apartment under strict rest orders. Doctors expect a full recovery in 4–6 weeks, meaning she will likely miss the Middle East swing (Dubai, Doha) but could return in time for Indian Wells in March.

Her team has remained tight-lipped about long-term plans, but sources say she is already doing light walking and watching film of her upcoming opponents—classic Raducanu determination, even from a couch.

The Australian Open continued without her, of course. The first round produced its usual share of upsets and heroics. But something intangible had changed. Every time a player clutched their side after a long rally, every time a medical timeout was called, commentators inevitably referenced “Emma’s situation.”

“She’s reminded everyone,” said former world No. 1 Mats Wilander on Eurosport, “that behind the rankings, the endorsements, the headlines, these are still very young people with very human bodies.”

As the tournament progresses toward its second week, the absence of Emma Raducanu is felt more keenly than anyone expected. Not because she was the favorite—she wasn’t—but because her sudden, unscripted exit forced the tennis world to remember something it often forgets:

Even the most gifted athletes are fragile.

And sometimes, the bravest thing a champion can do is stop.

Get well soon, Emma. The courts will still be here when you’re ready.