Cannabis smell and noise at US Open: A structural problem ignored for two decades

On a Monday morning, Arina Sabalenka's match on Court 17 was proceeding smoothly with a 3-0 lead. At 30-0 in the second service game, she stopped, turned to the umpire, and said something. The umpire paused the match. Not because of injury. Not because of a line call. Because the smell of cannabis from the adjacent park was drifting onto the court. This was not the first incident. It was incident number n, if one cared to count. This article is not about one match. It is about asking: Why does the biggest tournament on the planet allow an environmental issue — one that could be controlled — to become a recurring feature every summer? The context must be established: Court 17 at the US Open sits directly next to Flushing Meadows-Corona Park, a public space. This court was designed for secondary matches, but has long been the most complained-about court regarding playing conditions. Not because of lighting, not because of wind — because of smell. In 2026, Martina Hingis — then 16 and world number one — complained about noise from surrounding courts. She did not mention cannabis, as the issue was not as prevalent then. But she laid the foundation for a discussion spanning nearly three decades: Should playing conditions be better controlled? The problem escalated when cannabis legalization exploded in New York. After the state permitted recreational use from late 2026, the density of cannabis users in public parks increased significantly. Flushing Meadows-Corona Park — a popular destination for locals — became the epicenter of cannabis smell within several kilometres of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center. Umpires and tournament staff can intervene when smoke originates inside the venue grounds. But when the smell drifts from the adjacent public park — a space outside USTA's jurisdiction — they face a genuine impasse. This is not an issue of one sensitive player. This is an issue of a system not designed to handle the boundary between the tournament's private space and the surrounding public space. Katie Boulter, the British player, is among the most recent to speak out. She described playing on Court 17 as "being at a party not meant for you." Boulter is not known for controversial statements. She is the quiet, work-focused kind of athlete. And when an entire generation — from Hingis to Nick Kyrgios, from Maria Sakkari to Casper Ruud — all mention the same issue, it is no longer personal bias. Ruud, in a post-match statement at the 2026 US Open, said cannabis smell had become a "permanent feature" of the tournament. He did not ask for cancellation or relocation. He just wanted someone to acknowledge the problem. But even that did not happen. Summer 2026, Sabalenka stopped play at 30-0 in the second service game. She was already leading 3-0. The pause — based on my years of observing player psychological responses in similar situations — may have disrupted opponent Rakhimova's rhythm more than Sabalenka's own momentum. The Belarusian subsequently won the next two sets and advanced. The match result was unaffected. But the question is not about one specific match. The question is: A tournament with annual revenue exceeding 400 million dollars, with over 140 years of tradition, with the power to shape an entire sport — why has it no solution for an issue players have reported continuously for nearly three decades? The counterargument would be: This is a public space. USTA cannot control the behavior of people outside the venue. Cannabis legalization is a political decision, not a tournament decision. And while players complain, most still complete their matches. Correct. All of it is correct. But here is the blind spot the sporting world often overlooks: Tolerance does not equal acceptance. Players competing in subideal conditions does not mean those conditions should be maintained. It means they are adapting to a worse reality than necessary. Wind direction and Court 17's orientation may explain why this court records more complaints than others in the same area. If true, this is a solvable design problem — court reorientation, barrier installation, or ventilation system upgrades. The cost would not be small. But compared to the tournament's reputation, it is a worthwhile investment. I have followed the US Open since 2026, from mornings sitting in a Hanoi living room watching slow satellite television, to on-site assignments in Melbourne when ABC invited me to comment on tennis. What I learned after 27 years is: Sport does not operate in a vacuum. What happens outside the sidelines — noise, smell, drunk spectators — all become part of the match, whether the umpire records it or not. The cannabis smell issue at the US Open will not disappear overnight. But it can be better managed if the tournament faces it directly instead of waiting for complaints to accumulate beyond denial. Until then, every summer, on some court, a player will stop, turn to the umpire, and say something. And the umpire will not know what to do. That is not a tragedy. That is a waste.