Casper Ruud withdraws from US Open 2026: When the back hurts more than ambition

New York, late August. The Flushing Meadows grounds were still buzzing with final practice sessions ahead of the last Grand Slam of the season. But in a quiet corner of the practice courts, an image stopped me. Casper Ruud – the man who stood at the finish line of this tournament two years ago – was trying to serve. He tossed the ball, reached up, but the motion stopped halfway. His face grimaced. Not because the ball went out, but because of the pain in his back. I have followed tennis for four decades, have witnessed hundreds of injuries, but the moment a player cannot complete a serve motion due to pain always hits me. It is not a defeat. It is a surrender to one's own body.

The context of this event began in Cincinnati, a week earlier. Ruud played at the Masters 1000 on hard courts – part of the North American swing, where he was expected to accumulate points and match rhythm ahead of the US Open. But in his match, he had to retire. The back injury was not something new; it had been simmering, and Cincinnati was the first clear signal. I remember watching players trying to compete through pain – they often say the pain will pass, but in reality, it doesn't. Ruud came to New York, tried to practice, but footage from the practice courts showed he could not serve properly. For a professional tennis player, the serve is the foundation of everything – the starting point of every game, the weapon to win free points. When that motion cannot be executed, everything else collapses.

What makes this story particularly striking to me is the contrast between 2026 and now. Two years ago, Ruud was the US Open runner-up. He lost to Carlos Alcaraz in the final – a match I still remember in every detail. It was one of the most thrilling Grand Slam finals in the past decade. That same year, he also reached the French Open final, losing to Nadal. Ruud was then world No. 2, regarded as one of the top contenders on clay and a formidable name on hard courts. But tennis does not forgive stagnation. Two years later, he has slipped to No. 20. The decline did not come from any single loss, but from the accumulation of underwhelming results, lingering injuries, and the rise of a younger, faster, and stronger generation. The 2026 US Open was no longer a place where Ruud was considered a title contender. He was the No. 20 seed, a name that could reach the third or fourth round, but no one truly believed he could replicate his 2026 feat.

The truth few people talk about is this: the back injury is not a single event – it is the consequence of a dense playing schedule and a playing style that relies heavily on physical power. Ruud is a baseline player with a heavy topspin forehand and excellent movement on clay. But this style demands constant explosiveness, sliding movements, lateral coverage – all of which put immense pressure on the lower back. When you look at his schedule over the past months, you see a dense calendar: European clay events, then transitioning to Wimbledon grass, then back to clay for the Paris Olympics, then to North American hard courts. The constant switching between different surfaces is one of the greatest challenges to a player's body. Not everyone can adapt quickly, and for Ruud, his body has spoken.

What I find most notable in this story is Ruud's decision to play mixed doubles. He had still entered the mixed doubles event at the US Open before withdrawing. This raises a question: if his back hurts so much that he cannot play singles, why could he still play doubles? Perhaps he was testing the severity of the injury, or perhaps he hoped that playing doubles – with lower intensity – would help him maintain match rhythm. But from the perspective of someone who has followed many similar cases, I believe this was an unwise decision. When you are dealing with a back injury, playing any event can exacerbate the condition. There is an inconsistency in the way Ruud's team has managed the injury. They allowed him to play doubles, yet withdrew him from the singles – the most important event. This suggests a lack of consistency in assessing the severity of the injury.

Ruud's story reminds me of a principle I have developed over my career observing tennis: the court may change hands, but the nights spent losing one's voice calling out names are never for sale. People remember transfer fees, but I remember the eyes of the captain when he signed his last contract. In an empty stadium, I understand that I am not just reporting – I am keeping the breath of a belief alive. Football does not lie; only contracts know how to remain silent. I am old, so I only believe what I have witnessed, not what people tell me. The new generation watches highlights, but I watch the added minutes of a person's life.

For Ruud, I have witnessed moments of glory – the 2026 US Open final, where he fought to the last set against Alcaraz. I have witnessed his progress on clay, where he became one of the most formidable players. But I have also witnessed the inevitable decline – a process that unfolds slowly but surely. This back injury is not the end of Ruud's career, but it is a significant milestone. If he does not take enough time to recover fully – not just physically but mentally – then returning will be even harder. Rushing back from injury is a trap many players have fallen into. The psychological fear – the fear that the pain will return at any moment – is harder to fix than the physical wound.

The question now is: how long will Ruud be out? And when he returns, will he still be himself? I have seen too many players return too soon and never regain their peak form. I have also seen those who know how to listen to their bodies, take proper recovery time, and come back stronger. Ruud is only 25 – still young by tennis standards. He has a good support team, a father as coach who understands his son, and a solid financial foundation. But these are not enough if he lacks patience. Withdrawing from the US Open was the right decision, however painful. The next important thing is what he does in the coming weeks. It would be a worrying sign if he hastily enters tournaments in Asia in September. Conversely, if he accepts rest, focuses on recovery, and only returns when his body is ready, that is a sign of a wisely managed career.

Ruud's departure also opens an opportunity for someone else. Arthur Gea, a young French player, has been placed into the main draw as a lucky loser. This is the biggest moment of Gea's career – the chance to play at a Grand Slam, to face the world's best. I have always believed that tennis is a harsh sport, but it is also a sport of opportunities. Every departure of one person is the arrival of another. And in moments like these, I remember why I love this sport – not just for the high-level matches, but for the human stories behind every match.

As I left the Flushing Meadows grounds that Sunday afternoon, I saw Ruud leaving in silence. He said nothing to the press, just walked slowly toward the shuttle. I could not read his thoughts, but I could imagine. Two years ago, he left this place as a runner-up, with a promising future ahead. Today, he leaves with a sore back and a big question mark about the future. Tennis is never kind to those who linger too long in the past. But it also never closes its doors to those who know how to wait. I hope Ruud will find patience within himself. Because when you have stood at the top, accepting the fall is the hardest thing. But sometimes, it is necessary to climb again.