Hold my MargAryna (and other musings on an unforgettable 2024 WTA season)

Welcome to the Year of the Tiger (tattoo)
To the top of the rankings, Sabalenka, she flew
With a chilled ‘MargAryna’ in hand, we would toast
For titles in Melbourne, in New York, she’d boast

‘A lot of hard work, a little bit of TikTok’
The maiden from Minsk surmised
As a pro athlete, a chip off the old block
Her late father excelled on the ice

In Auckland, Coco defended her title
What a way to kick off the year
To many young fans, an American Idol
Got her own shoe, plays without fear

Colombia’s Osorio prevailed on home soil
In the Austin final, Yuan ‘n Wang, they did toil
Noskova won Monterrey, Danilovich Guangzhou
Golubic looked invigorated at age thirty-two

An all-Polish final was played down in Prague
(That Iga wasn’t among them left us agog)
A tale of two Magdas, the trophy to Linette
Frech’d get her own; hadn’t happened just yet

Swiatek, she would have her day, no doubt
A tour-best five titles before June was out
Her third straight French Open, her fourth in five years!
The Lenglen Cup raised, Chatrier full of cheers

A former RG champ looked downright resurgent
Took Adelaide, then Linz, as if it were urgent
Alona’s top supporter? Would you believe Lil Wayne?
‘I been a huge fkn fan!!!’ was the rapper’s refrain

Navarro, she grabbed her first title Down Under
Her groundies? Well, they ring out like thunder.
Believe me now, if you didn’t believe then
US Open semifinalist, year-end Top 10

Aryna, in Miami, faced unspeakable trauma
Just how she maintained amidst all the drama
We’ll never know; a testament to her mettle
How to move forward, when things are unsettled

Karolina nixed a spell in Transylvania
First title in four years; I mean, it was mania
Sloane, she ended a skid of her own
A winner in Rouen, once again in the zone

Naomi launched a comeback, Lulu made a splash
Ons beset by injury, her season gone in a flash
Caroline bravely spoke out, the topic mental wellness
‘I’m feeling trapped on the court’; that’s what she’d tell us

Queenwen, at the Games, was as good as gold
Seems when they made her they broke the mold
But not all her colleagues were singing her praises
Take Emma, take Iga, they spoke no such phrases

Coco held the Stars and Stripes aloft
To her and LeBron, our caps we doffed
Down the Seine they glided, glory their oeuvre
Like a Delacroix masterpiece on the walls of the Louvre

But Gauff’s summer, it didn’t go as planned
At Wimby, at the Open, she looked outmanned
Brad Gilbert was soon dismissed from her staff
At the Finals in Riyadh, she’d have the last laugh

Paula was again playing like we all knew
Her first title since the winter of twenty-two
‘My goal is to be back where I was before’
Half of #Tsitsidosa? No, she’s so much more.

It turns out Jannik, he wasn’t alone in
His miscue; there was bad melatonin
Flagged in another No. 1, a Pole
A month and a hundred-fifty-grand as a toll

Elena, she shone in Abu Dhabi
Her tennis far more than just a hobby
Brisbane and Stuttgart went her way, too
Before illness set in; could it be the flu?

By midsummer there was a general malaise
So her coaching arrangement she paused to appraise
In the end, she would ditch Vukov for Goran
Hoping, in the new year, her talent to pour on

Barbora channeled Jana on the Wimbledon grass
A two-time major titlist, the Czech is all class
A derogatory comment, the subject her appearance
Prompted an apology, for this cursed interference

Who is this newbie, this woman named Shnaider?
The one with four trophies right there beside her
Polka-dot bandana, lefty forehand that’s great
Honed her game with the Wolfpack of NC State

And this girl, Paolini, with the biggest of smiles?
Her career, it advanced, by miles and miles
‘I’m enjoying this beautiful moment I’m living’
Said the five-foot-four Tuscan, her charm so giving

Back-to-back finals in Paris and London
The prize money grew, her team it was fundin’
She triumphed in doubles on the Olympic stage
Add the BJK Cup to the Italian’s rampage

Katie and Alex appear synced in their fate
Perhaps going back to their very first date
Each time she wins a title, so does her mate
A match made in Heaven, their opponents irate

Jess’ season looked ho-hum ‘til a late-summer godsend
In Toronto, rejuvenant, her 1000 she’d defend
Followed-up with a final in the outskirts of Cincy
Then rolled into New York, her chances not chintzy

Took the LI double R from Midtown to Queens
A shot at a major? ‘I allow myself to dream’
Though she’d fall short against Aryna in a stadium called Ashe
It was much motivation, a memory she’ll cache

Ms. Collins got busy eyeing life after tennis
Though her foes, on court, she continued to menace
‘Tween Miami and Charleston, she won thirteen straight
Back in the Top 10, she was sure looking great

Played her last match at the Open (or so we thought)
Said she had retired (turns out she had not)
‘The Danimal story has not reached its conclusion’
Her message, it helped clear up some confusion

His off-color comment ‘bout Anna K.
Sparked calls for Nick to be sacked, they say
Could it be jealousy that caused him to panic
For his ex-girlfriend was now linked to Jannik?

Maddie tied the knot on a blue November day
To Bjorn she is married, together they’ll stay
In the Strasbourg final, things went her way
Her eighth career title, her first on red clay

Mirra Andreeva, she was just seventeen
Played beyond her years, if you know what I mean
Broke through in Iași, Conchita was pleased
Into the Top 20, on clay courts she breezed

‘It was the ghosts in my mind,’ said Beatriz in the boroughs
A quarterfinal loss, her preparation un-thorough
She then won twelve of fourteen, obrigado!
Summoning Bueno and Guga; oh, the bravado!

Maiden titles went to Kartal, Kessler & Stearns
Sounds like a law firm, but the trophies well-earned
Lamens and Sonmez, they joined the parade
More first-time winners, a true cavalcade

Dasha claimed two titles, approached a career-high
When she’s on her game, that woman can fly
Samsonova, Putintseva, Sramkova, they toasted
Their opponents in finals, left them feeling ghosted

Empty seats at the Finals, a sight disappointing
As if a Challenger, the wee crowd was anointing
My, how we miss those salad days at the Garden
It’s a business, they say, so this we must pardon

A new rivalry took hold, a matchup to die for
As they jockey for the top, the losses they abhor
Iga vs. Aryna, they’ve now played twelve times
Each matchup an epic, to miss one’s a crime

Swiatek saved three match points in defending Madrid
Claimed the Rome final, too, quashed her opponent’s bid
But Sabalenka assumed the throne, No. 1, no jive
May there be many more clashes in twenty-five

Until then, dear readers, ‘cause I know you’re hurtin’
Dream of Vika and Vekic, Muchova and Mertens
Of Begu and Badosa, Dolehide and Dart
Before you know it, a new season will start.