A proposal on the big screen, and a champion trying not to grin
Love crashed a tennis match in the best possible way at Louis Armstrong Stadium. Late in Aryna Sabalenka’s third‑round win at the US Open, the jumbotron cut to a fan on one knee. His partner froze, then nodded through tears as the crowd rose with them. A kiss, a roar, and for a few seconds the biggest story in the building wasn’t the defending champion’s forehand — it was two people saying yes.
Spoilers had to wait. Sabalenka still had points to play, and she knew exactly what was happening in the seats. “I think it’s the first time someone proposed during my match,” she told reporters afterward. “It was a very sweet moment, but I was trying not to start smiling. It’s super cute, and I believe they are super happy right now.”
The moment unfolded as Sabalenka closed out a 6-3, 7-6 (2) win over Canada’s Leylah Fernandez, a former US Open finalist who brings pace, angles, and crowd appeal in New York. Armstrong can hold around 14,000, and it felt like all of them leaned into the scene — hands over mouths, phones up, strangers hugging strangers. In tennis, where quiet is part of the rhythm, a full-throated celebration during play is unusual. But New York does what New York does, and the match rolled on.
Sabalenka’s focus never really left the baseline. She managed the first set with controlled aggression, punching through rallies when they tilted her way and stepping back when Fernandez flirted with momentum. The second set turned sticky. Fernandez dug in, stretched points, and fed off the crowd. Sabalenka steadied, protected her serve, and shut the door in the tiebreak, where her first‑strike power and clean returning did the rest.
She saw the proposal, processed it, and then parked it. “I was just trying to keep focusing on my game,” she said. “It was a great moment, and as I said on court, I wish them a happy marriage.” That balance — smile later, hold serve now — is a big part of why she’s still standing in week two.
Then came the line that lit up social feeds. Asked whether she hoped anyone else in the stadium got ideas from the proposal, Sabalenka broke into a grin. “I don’t want this kind of proposal,” she said. “But I looked at my boyfriend. Yeah. No pressure.”
That boyfriend is Brazilian entrepreneur Georgios Frangulis, founder and CEO of Oakberry. The pair went public with their relationship last year and even rolled out a Sabalenka-branded açaí bowl ahead of the tournament. It’s a neat snapshot of her life in this city: morning practice, afternoon press, and somewhere in between, a branded bowl on a Manhattan sidewalk.
Form, focus and what comes next at Flushing Meadows
This was a solid, composed performance against an opponent who can make matches noisy in all the ways that matter. Fernandez chased lines, slid into forehands, and kept the ball low and skidding — the exact ingredients that complicate a hitter’s day. Sabalenka, the world No. 1 and defending US Open champion in this telling, managed the tempo with a veteran’s patience. She trusted her patterns, took the court when she needed to, and let the tiebreak showcase the heavier shot.
There was another layer to the night: timing. A jumbotron proposal can break the spell for anyone. It didn’t. That speaks to the work Sabalenka’s done the past two seasons to turn her power into something steadier. The raw force was always there. The upgrades live in her shot selection, her second-serve poise, and her willingness to play the odd ugly rally instead of forcing a highlight. You could see all of that against Fernandez, especially late in the second set, where she stayed stubborn on serve and forced the decider to a tiebreak on her terms.
The reaction around the stadium captured exactly why these moments land. People crave release. In a sport that asks for hush between points, the proposal gave everyone permission to cheer without waiting for a winner or an ace. It wasn’t a sideshow — it was New York showing its heart. Clips of the moment ricocheted across social platforms within minutes, with fans sharing split-screen videos of the kiss and Sabalenka wiping a quick smile from her face before setting up for the next point.
Sabalenka didn’t shy away from the personal detail, either. Her “no pressure” aside was playful, but it also said something about how athletes navigate public life now. The lines are blurry. Your match can become someone else’s memory, and your off‑court life is always part of the story. She handled it with a light touch, giving fans what they came for — big hitting and a bit of humanity.
Up next is Spain’s Cristina Bucsa in the fourth round. On paper, it’s a contrast: Bucsa builds points carefully, reads patterns, and looks for small cracks. Sabalenka, at her best, slams those cracks open. Their paths haven’t crossed much on the biggest stages, which gives this one the feel of a fresh read. Expect Sabalenka to test Bucsa’s backhand early, stretch her wide on serve, and keep points short on key moments. If Bucsa can drag rallies past shot four, then the match gets interesting.
There’s plenty at stake, and not just in the rankings. Defending a title at Flushing Meadows means living with a different kind of noise — the defending champ intro on the big screen, the extra media hits, the built‑in target on your back. Add the world No. 1 badge and every opponent treats the match like a free swing. Nights like this, where the mood swings between romance and pressure, are a good test for anyone trying to go back‑to‑back.
Louis Armstrong Stadium tends to host the rowdiest night sessions at the Open. It’s tighter than Ashe, closer to the bustle, and more likely to catch a human moment on camera. Tennis doesn’t see proposals as often as baseball or basketball, where late-inning or timeout breaks invite them. That’s part of why this one hit so hard. It was unscripted, in a sport that repairs its lines before it plays another point. It reminded everyone that trophies and life milestones can share a stage — and sometimes a scoreboard.
For Fernandez, the loss stings, but the performance travels. She weathered the first set, absorbed pace, and made Sabalenka think in the second. That’s often the assignment against a top seed: make them earn rhythm, and if you can’t take the racquet out of their hands, at least put it there at an awkward angle. She did that, and she’ll be dangerous again the next time she draws a marquee night in New York.
For Sabalenka, the takeaways are clean. The serve held under pressure. The forehand found space down the line when she needed a reset. The backhand stayed compact in the tiebreak. And the mental game clicked into that steady, low‑heartbeat gear that tends to carry her into the second week at majors. The scoreboard shows a straight‑sets win; the eye test says she had another gear if she needed it.
That the proposal became the talking point tells you everything about how this city receives the Open. Yes, it’s about tennis. It’s also a late‑summer festival of small dramas — a child’s first match, a first day-date, a first trip to Queens. Friday night added a first promise for two people who came to watch a champion and left engaged. Sabalenka noticed, smiled, and carried on. The rest of us get to enjoy both threads at once: a title defense picking up steam and a love story that found a spotlight between points.
As the tournament moves into the business end, the blueprint for Sabalenka doesn’t change much. Keep the first serve high. Lean on the return in big moments. Live with the odd miss if it buys you court position on the next ball. And when the noise spikes — whether it’s a crowd chant, a viral moment, or a memory unfolding on the big screen — turn down the dial, bounce the ball, and hit through it.