What ‘Eala Mania’ means for Philippine tennis

Contributed By Ma. Patricia Yulo

I once published a post titled “How tennis-minded is the Philippines?” on my now-defunct WordPress tennis blog. It was chock-full of rants compounded by decades of frustration over my country’s ignorance of the international glory the sport could bring.

Nobody could blame me then for expressing such views. Growing up, like most Filipinos, I was led to believe that the only sport that should be glorified was basketball. With ubiquitous hoops on unpaved grounds and numerous leagues formed in every barangay across the country, the Filipino mindset was shaped to view an orange ball passed around by 10 people on a rectangular court as the key to sporting salvation.

It was only in 1992, the year I discovered tennis, that my views changed. But my country’s obsession with basketball never faltered, making tennis a mere footnote compared to the orange ball’s popularity.

The basketball default

Recently, however, the tide has turned, thanks to Alex Eala. I first encountered her name in 2017 when videos of her playing surfaced online. As someone who has followed the sport for so long, I immediately observed that she was special. When she won the Les Petits As under-14 tournament in 2020, I thought of sponsoring her by giving her six figures’ worth of hydration sports drinks. Though the sponsorship never materialized for personal reasons, I felt proud to be her supporter, even if I was just one of a few.

It wasn’t until the 2025 Miami Open that Eala made a major breakthrough on the Women’s Tennis Association tour. Entering the tournament as a wild card, she defeated three Grand Slam champions, including then-world No. 2 Iga Świątek, to reach the semifinals before falling to the No. 4 seed, Jessica Pegula. Suddenly, Alex Eala became a household name in the Philippines.

Historically, Eala is not the first Filipino tennis player to reach the international stage. Notable players like Dyan Castillejo, Felicisimo Ampon, Felix Barrientos and Francis Alcantara have proven that the Philippines can produce great champions. But her Miami Open run seemed to open the floodgates, and Filipinos responded naturally, if not dramatically, creating the global phenomenon called “Eala Mania.”

Floodgates open

With “Eala Mania” making waves, reports show surging tennis equipment sales and growing tennis clinics in the Philippines. More Filipino players are taking their games to the next level, and those who have never watched tennis in their lives have decided to pick up a racket for the first time.

Moreover, Manila became the venue for the country’s first WTA tournament, the Philippine Women’s Open. Years ago, any die-hard Filipino tennis fan would have laughed at the possibility of our country hosting such a major event, but it happened thanks to Eala’s influence. And let’s not forget that chicken adobo and pork lumpia were listed as menu items during the National Bank Open in Canada. I presume the inclusion of these Pinoy staples was never on any Filipino tennis fan’s bingo card.

Eala did more than put Philippine tennis on the global map. She changed the Filipino sports psyche, reminding everybody that there is more to life than an orange ball — and that sometimes, it can be a yellow one.

During the finals of the 2026 Mubadala DC Open, I was in a bar with friends and witnessed something remarkable: A huge Filipino crowd, clearly new to tennis, glued to two big TV screens and cheering for Eala nonstop.

When she finally defeated top seed Pegula, the atmosphere turned so festive that it reminded me of the days when Manny Pacquiao would win a boxing championship. I would not be surprised if one day, Eala, like Pacquiao, keeps the crime rate down for a day because all Filipinos stay home to watch her play.

But as with any breakthrough, “Eala Mania” could either explode further or be short-lived; we’ll never know. One thing is certain: It has ignited something exciting for Philippine tennis.

According to the World Atlas website, tennis ranks fourth behind soccer, cricket and field hockey in global popularity, with an estimated 1 billion fans. This means a major tennis win can drastically change things not only for a player like Eala but also for the Philippines and its budding players. Our priorities and perspective on the sport will change. If Eala wins a major tournament like Wimbledon — considered the most prestigious Grand Slam — she will probably become a bigger star internationally than Pacquiao. This could pave the way for the Philippines to produce more tennis champions, which is the best gift we could receive as a nation. The big question is: Are we Filipinos ready for this?

Talent over wealth and height

Understanding the popularity and grandeur of tennis is one thing, but if we are to move forward positively and integrate the game into our sporting culture, certain things need to be discussed and, perhaps, corrected.

First, it is unfair to say tennis is solely for the elite just because of its European aristocratic roots. When I started playing in the ‘90s, I encountered people from all walks of life playing friendly matches and joining clinics. I’ve also seen kids wearing slippers hit powerful forehands on courts in Metro Manila. Funding the sport is another story, of course, but the game’s history should not discourage anybody from picking up a racket.

As for facilities, there is no question that the Philippines has more basketball courts than tennis courts, and the former are easier to improvise. But Filipinos need to know that some tennis greats started on makeshift courts. Hall of Fame inductee Monica Seles, for one, began her journey by hitting balls against a wall. Novak Djokovic, whose family faced poverty early on, had to practice in abandoned sports halls. Former world No. 1 Ana Ivanovic also practiced in an empty swimming pool due to a lack of tennis courts in her home country.

Another important discussion revolves around the belief that only players from well-off backgrounds, such as Eala, have the means to train abroad. Talent, not money, is actually the reason Eala received a scholarship to the Rafa Nadal Academy. The same goes for Maria Sharapova, whose talent at age 9 convinced a sports agency to cover her annual tuition so she could train at a prestigious tennis academy in Florida. Prior to that, Sharapova’s father borrowed money and worked multiple odd jobs — including dishwashing — just to fund her training.

What about height? It’s not a major issue. In women’s tennis, there are three notable names who broke barriers despite being shorter than Eala, who is 5-foot-9: Amanda Coetzer (5-foot-2), Dominika Cibulková (5-foot-3) and Justine Henin (5-foot-5), who won seven Grand Slam titles. Conversely, Brenda Schultz-McCarthy, who stands 6-foot-2, never won a Grand Slam.

Even on the men’s side, tall players like Taylor Fritz and the now-retired Todd Martin have no Grand Slam titles to their names, while Rod Laver, who stands 5-foot-8, has an entire arena in Melbourne named after him.

The new crowd

But the biggest discussion regarding tennis in the Philippines so far involves the etiquette of Filipino fans, who have proven themselves to be quite boisterous during professional tournaments.

I am all for strictly observing tennis etiquette, especially during serves and rallies. But once the point is over, I say let Filipinos cheer as loudly as they want. As long as a plate of mangoes with bagoong isn’t passed from one seat to another — especially near areas where the ball kids are standing — everything will be fine.

It is indeed a great time to be alive, now that Philippine tennis is booming thanks to a young, talented Filipina who has won the hearts of many through hard work, grit, grace, relentlessness and humility.

As a longtime tennis fan, I’m beyond thankful, not only to Eala but also to all Filipinos who have opened their minds and hearts to embrace the game and spread “Eala Mania” worldwide.

And the best thing about all this? It’s just the beginning. Or, in true Filipino fashion, “papunta pa lang tayo sa exciting part.”

With that, should I retract my old blog post? Maybe not. I say let my rants and frustrations stay buried somewhere on the World Wide Web. The past is the past, and I now look forward to the future because my favorite sport is finally getting the Filipino love it deserves.