Elena Rybakina to withdraw from US Open 2026? Shock from Cincinnati and an uncertain future

I have witnessed many athletes leave the court, but the moment Elena Rybakina stopped mid-set against Iga Swiatek at the Cincinnati Open reminded me of the feeling of running the 800m back in the day — when your legs say no, but your mind is still trying to negotiate. She was trailing 1-4 in the first set, then suddenly retired. Not because of a missed shot, not because she lost the point. Because she "realised she was unable to move her leg." The whole stadium seemed to hold its breath. And I, from a small press conference corner in Hai Phong, could only take notes: this is not a defeat, this is a big question mark for her entire summer. The specific context: the US Open 2026 is approaching, and Rybakina faces a painful arithmetic problem. According to the analysis from the original article, she needs to reach the semi-final in New York to solidify her World No. 1 position. But before thinking about the semi-final, she must solve a survival issue: the left heel tendon injury. ESPN confirms this is a tendon problem in the left heel, while some other sources call it an Achilles issue — but be careful, this is speculation, not carrying the same weight of evidence. What is certain is that she has withdrawn from the mixed doubles at the US Open. As for singles? The original article only says "uncertain," not confirming a withdrawal. Delving into the technical side, I realize something important: Rybakina's problem is not in her shots. Her playing style is an aggressive first-strike baseliner — powerful serve, early hitting, quick point finishing. But on hard courts, everything is decided by movement, stopping, and pushing off. A left heel tendon injury doesn't just reduce speed; it breaks the entire system. You cannot hide an inability to move with an ace, no matter how powerful that serve is. In modern tennis, where Iga Swiatek and other top players constantly drag you into long rallies, a lack of movement is a tactical death sentence. There is one detail that haunts me: she tried to continue, asking to play one more service game before deciding to stop. As someone who once ran with an injury, I understand that feeling — the recklessness of an athlete who doesn't want to quit, but also a dangerous blindness. The article does not clarify whether medical staff cleared her to continue, but a person who cannot move her leg should normally stop immediately. This is the thin line between competitive courage and unnecessary recklessness — a story I have seen many times in athletics, where young athletes try to keep running with injuries and pay the price with their entire careers. But here I want to offer a contrarian view: perhaps withdrawing from Cincinnati was the right decision, even if it came late. Look at Rybakina's history. She has retired from many major tournaments due to injuries, and each time, she often returns stronger. The issue is not whether she withdraws, but whether she has enough time to fully recover before the US Open. An inflamed heel tendon needs time, not painkillers. And if she reaches the semi-final in New York, that is seven consecutive matches — an enormous workload for a body in recovery. Tactics no longer matter as much as physical capacity. I remember a call in 2026, when I called Coach Thanh Huyen during the pandemic and asked: "If we don't compete, how do we live?" She answered with another question: "Why do you run?" That question has haunted me ever since. Rybakina is facing a similar question: is she playing tennis to keep the No. 1 ranking, or to prove something deeper? If she enters the US Open with a leg that is not fully healthy, she might win one or two early matches, but by the third or fourth round, when opponents start exploiting her movement weakness, everything will collapse. I have seen this scenario many times on the track: an athlete trying to compete with an injury, running well in the qualifiers, then collapsing in the final. There is a subtle detail the original article only glosses over: the appearance of heel strapping beforehand. This suggests the tendon issue may have existed before Cincinnati, possibly a result of accumulated load over weeks of competition. This is a blind spot many fans miss: tendon injuries never happen suddenly. They simmer, accumulate, then flare up on the worst day. If Rybakina and her team did not recognize this earlier, then the Cincinnati retirement is a wake-up call — and perhaps the last chance to save the season. So the biggest question is not "Will Rybakina withdraw from US Open 2026?" but "Will she be wise enough to know when to stop?" I have learned from years of following Nguyen Thi Oanh that: a great athlete not only knows how to win, but also knows how to protect themselves. Sometimes, the most important match is not the one on the court, but the one against your own body. And in that match, there is no cheering crowd, no spotlight, only the sound of your own breath and your decision. An empty stadium means applause moves into the heart; tennis becomes only a breath. When Rybakina steps onto the court at Flushing Meadows in the coming weeks, I will not look at her serve. I will watch how she moves — every step, every push-off. Because that is where the truth lies. And I will remember: there are calls no one answers but both ends are healing. There are withdrawal decisions no one wants to hear, yet they are the right ones. The US Open 2026 will not lack big stories. But Rybakina's story, whether she plays or not, will be a story about how an athlete faces their own limits. And that, to me, is the story most worth watching.