CANCÚN, Mexico — The stark financial disparity at the pinnacle of professional tennis was thrown into sharp relief this week, as the world's wealthiest tennis player, Jessica Pegula, expressed her disbelief upon learning that a fellow Grand Slam champion was forced to sell personal possessions online for a mere £4.
The revelation came during a press conference at the season-ending WTA Finals, where Pegula, the daughter of billionaire Buffalo Bills and Buffalo Sabres owners Terry and Kim Pegula, was asked about the ongoing financial struggles faced by many players outside the sport's elite echelon. Her reaction to the specific case was one of genuine shock.
A Tale of Two Realities in Tennis
The Grand Slam champion in question is Barbora Krejčíková, the 2021 French Open singles winner and a multiple major champion in doubles. In late 2023, a social media user shared a screenshot of Krejčíková selling a used, signed Roland Garros towel on a Czech auction site for 119 CZK, equivalent to approximately £4 or $5 USD. The item description reportedly read, "Used Roland Garros towel, signed by Barbora Krejčíková. I don't need it."
When informed of this, Pegula, whose family fortune is estimated by Forbes to be in the billions, was visibly taken aback. "You're kidding me," she said, pausing to process the information. "A Grand Slam champion? Selling a signed towel for four pounds? That's... that's just wild to me. It really puts things in perspective."
Pegula's own journey in tennis, while fueled by immense talent and hard work, was undeniably supported by a financial safety net few can imagine. She has been open about the advantages her background provided, allowing her to focus solely on her development without the constant pressure of funding her career through prize money or sponsorships.
The Hidden Financial Struggle on Tour
While the top 50-100 players in the world can earn a comfortable living, the economic structure of tennis creates a steep cliff. Players ranked outside the top 100 often operate at a loss, covering expenses for:
- Extensive global travel, including flights and hotels for themselves and a coach.
- Coaching fees, which can run into thousands of dollars per week.
- Physiotherapy, fitness training, and sports science support.
- Racket stringing, equipment, and apparel not covered by sponsors.
- Tournament entry fees and costs for lower-level events.
Krejčíková, despite her stellar accomplishments, has experienced this volatility firsthand. While her career prize money exceeds $12 million, a significant portion is allocated to her team and expenses. Her decision to sell the towel, while seemingly minor, highlights a mindset of financial pragmatism common among players who did not grow up with wealth.
Pegula elaborated on the disconnect, stating, "I think sometimes we get in this bubble at the top. We see the big prize money checks at Slams and the Masters events, and we forget what it's like for everyone else, or even for champions in other years. It's a constant grind."
Krejčíková's Humble Beginnings
Unlike Pegula, Krejčíková's story is one of traditional tennis ascension. Hailing from the Czech tennis system, she worked her way up through the junior ranks and initially made her name as a dominant doubles specialist. Her success in doubles, while lucrative, does not command the same financial rewards or sponsorship deals as singles glory.
Her 2021 French Open singles victory was a life-changing moment, but it did not instantly transform her into a global marketing icon. She remains a fiercely dedicated and humble athlete, known for her intense work ethic rather than a lavish lifestyle. Selling personal items, even memorabilia from her greatest triumph, is not entirely out of character for a player focused on the practicalities of her career.
The WTA's Stance and Growing Player Advocacy
The incident has sparked renewed conversation about the distribution of wealth in women's tennis. The WTA has made strides in increasing overall prize money, but the concentration at the top remains a point of contention. First-round losers at Grand Slams now earn tens of thousands of pounds, but players losing in the early rounds of lower-tier tournaments can barely break even.
Pegula, who serves on the WTA Players' Council, acknowledged the ongoing efforts and the complexities involved. "It's something we talk about constantly in council meetings. How do we get more money into the lower-level tournaments? How do we support the players ranked 100 to 200? It's a huge priority for us," she affirmed.
The disparity is not just about prize money but also endorsements. A player like Pegula, with her profile and background, has access to sponsorship opportunities that are often unavailable to equally talented players from less marketable backgrounds or smaller countries.
The reaction from the tennis community online has been largely sympathetic to Krejčíková's situation, with many fans praising her humility and practicality. One fan tweeted, "This is why we call her the 'People's Champion.' So down to earth."
A Moment of Clarifying Perspective
For Pegula, the news served as a powerful reminder of the diverse economic realities that coexist on the same tour. She concluded her thoughts by connecting it to the broader player experience, "It just shows you that success in tennis isn't a guaranteed ticket to lifelong wealth for everyone. It keeps you humble. It makes me want to work even harder on the Council to find solutions."
The image of a Grand Slam champion's signed towel selling for the price of a coffee stands in stark contrast to the glitz of the WTA Finals in Cancún, where Pegula competes for a share of a $9,000,000 prize purse. It is a poignant symbol of the two parallel worlds that exist within professional tennis, worlds that collided in a moment of flabbergasted realization for the sport's richest star.
As the sport moves forward, the challenge for its governing bodies and player representatives will be to bridge this gap, ensuring that its champions, regardless of their background or marketability, are celebrated and compensated in a way that reflects their monumental achievements, not forced to monetize their memorabilia for spare change.