The fallout from the second-round clash between Naomi Osaka and Sorana Cîrstea at the 2026 Australian Open escalated dramatically in the hours following their match on Margaret Court Arena. What began as a routine 6-3, 4-6, 6-2 victory for the four-time Grand Slam champion turned into one of the most heated on-court controversies of the early tournament, culminating in a fiery post-match exchange, public accusations, crowd backlash, and ultimately an official ruling from the International Tennis Federation (ITF) that sent shockwaves through the sport.
The tension had been building throughout the match. Osaka, returning to form after a challenging few years marked by mental health breaks and maternity leave, relied heavily on her signature self-motivational shouts of “Come on!”—delivered loudly and emphatically, often between points and especially before Cîrstea’s second serves. While such exclamations are common in women’s tennis and permitted under the rules as long as they are not deemed deliberate hindrance or unsportsmanlike conduct, Cîrstea grew increasingly frustrated. She believed the volume and timing were intentionally disruptive, breaking her concentration during crucial moments.
In the third set, with Osaka leading 4-2 and the score at 30-30 on Cîrstea’s serve, the Romanian veteran stopped play and approached chair umpire Marijana Veljović to complain. “She’s shouting ‘Come on!’ so loud to distract me,” Cîrstea argued. “It’s a cowardly tactic.” The umpire listened but took no action, allowing the match to continue without issuing a code violation or warning to Osaka. Cîrstea later claimed the official’s inaction only fueled her anger.

When the final point was won by Osaka, the two players met at the net for the customary handshake. What followed was anything but routine. Cîrstea offered a brief, cold touch of hands, barely making eye contact, then turned away abruptly. Osaka, visibly surprised, called after her: “What was that for?” Cîrstea spun back and delivered a sharp retort in full view of the crowd and television cameras: “For not knowing what fair play is, my friend. You’ve been playing for so long and you have no idea what fair play is—and the umpire didn’t care at all.”
The Margaret Court Arena crowd, already divided in their support during the match, erupted in boos directed at Cîrstea. Many fans felt her comments crossed the line from frustration into personal attack, especially given Osaka’s history of openness about mental health struggles and her efforts to return respectfully to the tour.
In her on-court interview immediately afterward, Osaka addressed the incident with characteristic candor. “I shout ‘Come on’ because it helps me in tough moments,” she said. “It’s not against the rules, but if it bothered her that much, I’m happy to apologize to her. I don’t want anyone to feel disrespected.” Her measured response, however, only seemed to inflame sections of the audience further. Some spectators shouted disapproval at Osaka, interpreting her willingness to apologize as an admission of wrongdoing rather than an act of grace.
The controversy spilled over onto social media almost instantly. Clips of the handshake and Cîrstea’s words circulated widely, with hashtags like #FairPlay and #OsakaComeOn trending globally. Opinions split sharply: supporters of Cîrstea argued that repeated loud self-encouragement during an opponent’s service motion bordered on gamesmanship and should be curtailed, while Osaka’s defenders pointed out that similar behavior from players like Serena Williams, Maria Sharapova, and even current stars such as Aryna Sabalenka had long been accepted without penalty.
Pressure mounted quickly. By the end of the day, the ITF received formal complaints from both camps and faced mounting calls for clarity on the application of the hindrance rule in such situations. The governing body, in consultation with the Australian Open referee and on-site officials, convened an urgent review.

Less than 24 hours later, on January 23, 2026, the ITF released its official statement—a ruling that decisively sided with Osaka and effectively closed the debate in her favor:
“After reviewing video footage, umpire reports, and player statements from the match between Naomi Osaka and Sorana Cîrstea, the ITF has determined that Ms. Osaka’s vocal self-encouragement (‘Come on!’) did not constitute a hindrance under the Rules of Tennis. Such exclamations are a common and accepted part of competitive play, provided they are not timed or delivered in a manner intended to deliberately distract or intimidate an opponent. No evidence suggested intentional disruption in this instance. The chair umpire’s decision not to intervene was correct.
Verbal self-motivation of this nature is normal and permissible if athletes choose to use it to maintain focus and intensity.”
The ruling was met with immediate and widespread reactions. Osaka’s team expressed quiet satisfaction, while Cîrstea’s camp issued a brief statement acknowledging the decision but reiterating that she felt genuinely affected during the match. Publicly, Cîrstea chose not to comment further, reportedly preferring to move on from what she described earlier as a “brief exchange between two longtime competitors.”
The tennis community, however, remained divided. Prominent commentators weighed in. Former world No. 1 Mats Wilander called the ITF’s stance “pragmatic and consistent with how the sport has evolved,” noting that policing every grunt or shout would be impractical. Others, including some former players, argued that the ruling might embolden louder on-court behavior and erode the etiquette that once defined the game.
For Osaka, the incident became another chapter in her complicated relationship with public perception. Having stepped away from the sport in 2021 to prioritize mental health, she has returned with a renewed sense of self while facing ongoing scrutiny. Her willingness to apologize on court—despite ultimately being vindicated—reinforced the image of a player who values respect above ego.
Cîrstea, at 35 and in what many believe could be one of her final Australian Open campaigns, found herself in the uncomfortable position of villain in the eyes of much of the Melbourne crowd. Yet her frustration was understandable to those who have experienced the razor-thin margins of high-level tennis, where even minor distractions can feel magnified.

The broader implications of the ITF’s decision could be significant. By explicitly affirming that self-directed shouts are “normal and permissible,” the federation has drawn a clearer line around what constitutes acceptable on-court vocalization. It may discourage future complaints unless clear intent to hinder can be proven, potentially reducing similar disputes in the future.
As the tournament progresses, both players have moved on—Osaka advancing deeper into the draw with renewed momentum, Cîrstea reflecting on a hard-fought career nearing its end. The handshake that sparked so much outrage has now become a footnote, overshadowed by the ITF’s unambiguous verdict: in tennis, a loud “Come on!”—when used for self-motivation—is simply part of the game.
In a sport defined by intensity and emotion, the line between passion and provocation remains thin. The Osaka–Cîrstea affair reminded everyone that even the smallest gestures can ignite the biggest storms—but when the rules speak, the conversation, at last, finds its end.