Ons Jabeur looks to end an 0-fer at the US Open, but the pressure will only intensify

WATCH: Ons Jabeur Cried "Together" With Kim Clijsters After Falling To 0-3 In Major Finals

Ons Jabeur will embark on this upcoming US Open on a quest to reclaim her status as the game’s self-proclaimed “Minister of Happiness.” It’s a challenging mission given the way Jabeur left Wimbledon in tears a few weeks ago, following her second consecutive, puzzling loss in a Wimbledon final. It also was her third loss in the championship match of the last five majors.

The keyword here is “puzzling,” because both of her performances in Wimbledon finals were less about the tennis that was played than the tennis that wasn’t. On both occasions and, to a large extent in the last US Open final, the much-loved outlier from Tunisia was unable to jumpstart the dynamic, creative game that swept her into those finals.

Jabeur is a charismatic, vivacious character with an inspirational backstory—she is the first Arab woman to wildly succeed on the WTA Tour. That may explain why so few commentators outside the social media swamp and Internet message boards have called her final-round performances, especially her most recent one, a textbook case of choking. The misfires were made more glaring by the proven quality of Jabeur’s game. Tennis Channel analyst Pam Shriver probably came closest when she told the Talking Tennis podcast, “To me, [Jabeur] looked okay physically, she just didn’t look okay emotionally.”

After all, Jabeur had just beaten four Grand Slam champions in succession to reach the final: Bianca Andreescu, Petra Kvitova, Elena Rybakina (who beat the Tunisian in the 2022 final) and Aryna Sabalenka. But then she turned into a deer in the headlights. Jabeur, seeded sixth, lost to No. 42-ranked Marketa Vondrousova 6-4, 6-4.

“Honestly, I felt a lot of pressure, feeling a lot of stress,” Jabeur told reporters after that disappointment. “But like every final, like every match I played, I was telling myself, ‘It’s OK, it’s normal.’ I honestly did nothing wrong.”

It may be time for Jabeur to begin telling herself something different, or at least to abandon the conviction that these finals were “normal” performances. She’s just a much better player, day-in/day-out, than her Grand Slam finals indicate. Instead, she took a fatalistic approach: “. . . It (the loss) is what it is. Like I said, I cannot force anything right now. It wasn't meant to be. It wasn't.”

Jabeur doesn’t feel, or is reluctant to admit, that when it comes to major finals, she falls into the throes of some sort of emotional or mental paralysis. It’s understandable, because choking implies weakness and carries a stigma, but it is less some exotic character flaw than a temporary reaction to anxiety or stress. Every player has choked. Every player talks about choking (at least when the person in question is someone else). Choking is as American—and as Tunisian—as apple pie or couscous. Players who admit to choking take a good first-step to conquering the tendency.

Along similar lines, Jabeur seeded No. 5 at last year’s US Open, crushed most of the players she faced en route to the final against Iga Swiatek. After another muted, cold start (Jabeur lost 12 of the first 14 points) and woeful first set, she found a measure of resolve. But it was too little, too late as she lost, 6-2, 7-6 (5). Aranxta Sanchez Vicario, a four-time Grand Slam champion advising Jabeur during the tournament, spoke familiar, hollow words afterward: “It was a closer match than it looks.”

Jabeur’s team, which includes a “mental coach,” clinical psychologist Melanie Maillard, has to figure out a way to unlock Jabeur’s game—or her mind, or her emotions, or whatever—when it comes to the terminal match-ups. She needs to become a closer. To that end, Jabeur may benefit from some historical perspective.

The only other active pro on either tour who is 0-3 in Grand Slam finals is the ATP’s Casper Ruud. It would surely comfort and motivate Jabeur to know that, historically, only six men and four women—Helena Sukova, Wendy Turnbull, Mary Jo Fernandez, Dinara Safina—lost their first three Grand Slam finals and ultimately failed to win even one.

By contrast, in the Open Era, four women and four men who lost their first three major finals have gone on to win Grand Slam events, most recently Dominic Thiem (he cracked the Grand Slam code at the 2020 US Open). This includes Hall of Famers Chris Evert and Kim Clijsters, and the inevitably Newport-bound Andy Murray.

Doubt was overpowering everything during the match. The biggest thing she has to learn is to fake it. Fake it until you make it. Kim Clijsters on Ons Jabeur

Andy Roddick triumphed in his first Grand Slam final, the 2003 US Open. But he felt his friend Jabeur’s pain because of his own frustrated quest to win a Wimbledon title in four tries (due entirely to some guy named Federer). Thus, Roddick wrote to Jabeur after her recent Wimbledon final: “I have more faith in you winning Wimbledon than I ever had in myself winning Wimbledon. Take a breath, take a minute, make sure you prepare, keep your fitness going.”

Jabeur’s next chance is coming up. Having been to three major finals, she ought to be familiar with the kinds of stress and pressures that accompany the accomplishment. On the other hand, there will be more pressure on her this time around. She will also have to realize that however much experience she’s had, every Grand Slam final is different.

“It feels so different from a semi or a quarter,” Shriver said. “It’s like nothing else, it’s almost like a fingerprint. Each and every final has its own unique profile.”

It would certainly help Jabeur’s chances if she were able to hide the anxieties she feels from her opponent, as well as anyone else watching the match. At Wimbledon, four-time Grand Slam champion Clijsters noted how Jabeur telegraphed a lack of confidence in her body language throughout the final. She later told the New York Times: “Doubt was overpowering everything during the match. The biggest thing she has to learn is to fake it. Fake it until you make it.”

Clijsters knows whereof she speaks. She lost the first four major finals she played. Then she won the next four.