Naomi Osaka storms into US Open semifinals with ruthless tennis—and a clear message beyond the baseline
Gabriel Sebopeng 4 September 2025 6

Osaka’s ruthlessness returns under the Ashe lights

Naomi Osaka didn’t just win a quarterfinal in New York—she took a familiar stage and made it feel like hers again. Under the night lights on Arthur Ashe Stadium, she beat Karolina Muchova with the kind of clean execution that once defined her as the most dangerous hard‑court player on the planet. The numbers tell you why it felt so decisive: she took three of four break points, held serve with authority, and never let the match drift. That’s the version of Osaka who closes the door quickly and leaves no air for a comeback.

The victory sends her into the US Open semifinals—her first at a major since lifting the 2021 Australian Open trophy. It’s also a bit of personal payback after Muchova ended Osaka’s run here last year. This time, Osaka stayed locked in from the start, stepping into returns, taking time away, and backing up early leads with sensible patterns instead of fireworks-for-the-sake-of-fireworks. The shotmaking was still there; the reckless patches that used to haunt her weren’t.

Arthur Ashe is a home base for her, and she leaned into that history. She called it her favorite court, again, right after the handshake: “This is my favorite court in the world, and it means so much to me to be back here.” It’s where she won her first major in 2018, where the noise is loud, the rhythm is fast, and the crowd adores a heavyweight puncher who finishes points without flinching.

If you’re looking for tactical shifts, the outlines are clear. Osaka is simplifying the first two shots of every point—bigger targets on serve, heavier first balls after the return, and fewer hero swings from neutral. She’s trusting her depth and letting the pace come through her legs, not just her shoulders. On a humid New York night, that kind of discipline wins more than any hot streak.

There was also a vibe shift. Osaka’s body language didn’t waver when she missed; she walked back to the line and reset. No sagging shoulders, no rushed serves trying to erase a mistake. For a player who speaks openly about the mental side of the game, that calm felt like the real headline. It looked like muscle memory regained, not a one-off purple patch.

The comeback beyond the baseline

Osaka’s run is about more than ball striking. She came back to the tour in 2024 after giving birth to her daughter, Shai, and she’s been unfiltered about how hard that was—physically, emotionally, and mentally. She has described dealing with postpartum depression as “extremely bad,” and early results didn’t offer much comfort. There were first‑round exits in Melbourne and New York last year, and another early goodbye in Paris. At Roland Garros this season, a press conference turned raw. She was honest about the weight of expectation and the noise around her form. It looked heavy.

New York has changed that picture. Beating Coco Gauff in the fourth round—Gauff, the player who rose into Osaka’s old lane as the sport’s biggest star and top earner—reset the narrative in a single night. It didn’t erase the losses, but it made them feel like steps on the road back, not a final verdict. The tone shifted from “if” to “when.”

Osaka talks a lot about visualization. She says it’s part of how she navigates the pressure: “You’re also speaking to the kid that visualized playing Serena too,” she told the press this week, a nod to that 2018 breakthrough. “So I feel like there’s a lot of power in dreaming and believing.” In New York, that belief looks tangible. It’s in the way she plays the big points, and in the way she circles back to the same routines that built her career.

One of those routines is superstition. Nike has a full wardrobe for her at this tournament—separate looks for day and night, including a noteworthy rose‑themed dress—but she’s kept reaching for the glittering purple kit. She admitted she’s sticking with it because, well, it’s working. Athletes do this all the time, and in New York it becomes part of the theater. The outfit flashes under the Ashe lights, the crowd responds, and the results keep stacking. Sometimes the simplest rituals are the ones that settle the mind.

Zoom out, and the broader picture of women’s tennis matters here. The game has moved quickly over the last few years—new No. 1s, new slam winners, the rise of Coco Gauff, and the relentless consistency of Iga Swiatek and Aryna Sabalenka. Osaka had stepped away during that shift, then tried to reenter while also becoming a parent in the public eye. That’s not a small thing. We’ve seen players like Victoria Azarenka, Serena Williams, Elina Svitolina, Angelique Kerber, and Caroline Wozniacki navigate motherhood and elite competition in different ways. The sport is getting better at supporting that path—more childcare access on site, more flexible planning—but it still demands precision, patience, and a team that knows how to balance it all.

From the tennis side, the blueprint of this US Open makes sense: shorter points when they’re there, but more discipline when they’re not. Osaka is mixing pace with shape, adding height when she’s off‑balance, and using her backhand crosscourt to buy time instead of forcing winners down the line. The serve is landing in smarter spots—body serves to jam returners, wide serves to open the court—and that’s shrinking opponents’ swing at second balls. Crucially, the unforced‑error runs are shorter. One miss isn’t turning into three.

The semifinal slot also restores the thing that fueled her before: certainty in the tight moments. Osaka used to be the player you didn’t want to see at the end of a draw because she took the racquet out of your hands in 20 minutes. This fortnight has echoes of that. She’s two wins from a fifth major, and the equation for her hasn’t changed since 2018—make first serves, step in on second serves, live at the baseline, and swing for big targets under pressure.

There’s symbolism in where all this is happening. Arthur Ashe Stadium is the sport’s loudest room, and Osaka has always played well with noise. She debuted on the biggest stages as a power player who refused to blink. Now she’s bringing that same clarity with more maturity, more context, and—yes—more superstition. New York has a way of rewarding players who lean into who they are. She’s doing exactly that.

The tournament itself—its 145th edition, running from August 18 to September 7—has thrown plenty at the field. The courts are quick, the breeze can get funky at night, and the draw is deep. Osaka has handled the chaos by simplifying. She isn’t trying to solve the whole match in one return game. She’s building scoreboards that apply pressure and forcing opponents to make choices at bad times. That’s the mark of a veteran who’s been to the top and knows the fastest route back.

Her immediate future is a semifinal, date set and opponent to be decided. The tone of the week says she won’t change much when she gets there. The purple kit stays. The serve patterns stay. The calm stays. She’ll keep trusting the work and the habits she rebuilt this season. Two more wins would add a New York chapter to a career that already holds four majors and a lot of nights where the biggest court in tennis felt small in her hands.