Emma Raducanu’s recent match on the evening of February 17, at the Dubai Tennis Championships took a disturbing turn when she was visibly shaken by a man in the crowd who was later ejected for exhibiting “fixated behaviour.” The incident, which left Raducanu in tears and seeking refuge behind the umpire’s chair, reignites an uncomfortable conversation about the safety of women in professional tennis—a conversation that seems to resurface with alarming regularity.
The Women’s Tennis Association (WTA) confirmed that the man had previously approached Raducanu in a public area and was identified during her match before being removed from the venue. A WTA statement stressed that player safety is a top priority, with measures in place to handle such threats. The man now faces a ban from all WTA events, pending a formal threat assessment.
But while statements from governing bodies are quick to reassure, incidents like this point to a deeper issue that continues to plague women’s tennis: the persistent threat posed by stalkers and obsessive fans. Raducanu herself is no stranger to such encounters. In 2022, a man was convicted of stalking her after walking 23 miles to her home and taking a shoe from her father as a so-called souvenir. Despite a five-year restraining order against that individual, this latest incident in Dubai shows how fragile the safety net around players can be.
Raducanu is far from alone in this. Many of her peers on the WTA tour have had to deal with similar, sometimes terrifying, situations. Coco Gauff recently spoke out about fans who appeared to have access to her flight details, following her across cities. Katie Boulter has shared experiences of being followed by cars after leaving practice sessions. Even legends like Serena and Venus Williams have had stalkers track them across continents, breaching security at major tournaments.
The mental toll these experiences take is profound. Danielle Collins has been candid about how past encounters with stalkers have left her anxious in crowded spaces, always wary of strangers who approach too eagerly. Sloane Stephens has dealt with harassment severe enough to warrant FBI involvement, with threats extending beyond her to her family.
While governing bodies like the WTA have protocols and security teams in place, questions remain about their effectiveness. The tragic attack on Monica Seles in 1993—when she was stabbed on court by a man obsessed with her rival, Steffi Graf—was supposed to be a turning point for security in women’s tennis. Yet, decades later, the threat still looms, and the emotional scars linger long after the headlines fade.
The burden of safety often falls disproportionately on the players themselves. Many are forced to hire private security or change their routines, while still being expected to perform at the highest level under intense public scrutiny. There’s also the added layer of how women athletes are frequently commodified, their public image often sexualised, which only complicates the dynamic between fan admiration and unhealthy obsession.
This isn’t a problem confined to tennis, of course, but the solitary nature of the sport—with players travelling alone or with small teams, often to international venues—makes them especially vulnerable. And while male athletes aren’t immune to obsessive fans, the pattern of stalking and harassment in women’s tennis points to broader societal issues about entitlement, control, and the ways in which women in the public eye are treated.
Raducanu has continued to focus on her tennis, despite the emotional strain of these incidents. Her match against Karolina Muchova saw her fight back from a rocky start, pushing the first set to a tie-break before ultimately losing in straight sets. But it’s hard not to wonder how much the events off the court played into her performance. After all, how do you focus on the intricacies of your game when your safety feels so precarious?
As women’s tennis moves forward, there is a clear need for more comprehensive security measures—ones that not only react to threats but actively prevent them. But there also needs to be a shift in how we talk about these incidents. They’re not isolated or sensationalist stories, they’re symptoms of a culture that still struggles to protect women in the public eye. A lot of the headlines published reporting the event are using terms such as ‘fixated’ rather than ‘stalker’ or ‘harassment’, diminishing the severity of the situation.
Until that changes, moments like the one Raducanu experienced in Dubai will continue to haunt women’s tennis. And the question will remain: how many more players need to feel unsafe before the system truly changes?
