Now I'm in the game. At the beginning, it was difficult.
In a meeting that blended the sacred and the sporting, Pope Leo XIV — the first American pontiff and a lifelong tennis devotee from Chicago — welcomed world number one Jannik Sinner to the Vatican during a break in Rome's Italian Open. What began as a gentle public joke about the English meaning of Sinner's surname became, by Wednesday, a warm exchange of rackets, laughter, and mutual regard. The encounter speaks to something enduring: that the games which shape us in youth remain a kind of mother tongue, one that even the highest offices cannot silence.
- A pope's offhand joke about not being able to invite 'Sinner' rippled through the tennis world before dissolving into a genuine and good-humored Vatican reception.
- Sinner arrived fresh from controversy — his first tournament back after a three-month doping ban — and the papal audience added an unexpected layer of public redemption to his return.
- Leo surveyed the antique-filled auditorium and declined to actually swing a racket, but his white cassock, he quipped, would pass Wimbledon's all-white dress code without issue.
- Italy's tennis trophies — the Davis Cup and Billie Jean King Cup — stood in the same room, framing a moment that captured the sport at a rare national peak.
- Sinner now heads into a quarterfinal with papal attention at his back, chasing a title no Italian man has claimed in Rome since 1976.
Pope Leo XIV, the first American pontiff, has never hidden his love of tennis. So when Jannik Sinner arrived at the Vatican on Wednesday — racket in hand, parents at his side — the 69-year-old from Chicago was ready to receive him warmly, even if the antiques in the auditorium reception room ruled out an actual rally.
The visit came during a break in Rome's Italian Open, Sinner's first tournament since completing a three-month ban for accidental doping contamination. Earlier in the week, Leo had joked to a journalist that he couldn't very well invite 'Sinner' to a charity match — a wink at the English meaning of the player's surname. By Wednesday, that quip had given way to something more genuine. Sinner offered the pope a racket and suggested they hit a few balls. Leo smiled, glanced at the surrounding antiques, and declined — but noted that his white cassock would at least satisfy Wimbledon's dress code. When asked how the tournament was going, Sinner replied simply: "Now I'm in the game. At the beginning, it was difficult."
Angelo Binaghi, head of the Italian Tennis and Padel Federation, presented Leo with an honorary federation card and spoke of the pride the encounter stirred. The two posed before the Davis Cup — which Sinner helped Italy win for the second consecutive year — alongside the Billie Jean King Cup claimed by Italy's women in 2024, a tableau of Italian tennis at its highest point in decades.
Sinner faces a quarterfinal Thursday and is chasing history: a chance to become the first Italian man to win Rome since Adriano Panatta in 1976. He now carries that pursuit with papal attention behind him. Leo, who also follows the Chicago White Sox with devotion, joins a line of popes — including Francis, a lifelong San Lorenzo soccer supporter — for whom sport is not a distraction from vocation but a thread running through it.
Pope Leo XIV, the first American pontiff, has a weakness for tennis. So when Jannik Sinner, the world's top-ranked player, showed up at the Vatican on Wednesday with a racket in hand and an offer to volley, the 69-year-old from Chicago was ready to meet him halfway—just not in the auditorium full of antiques.
The encounter came during a break in the Italian Open, where Sinner is competing in his first tournament since serving a three-month ban for what officials determined was accidental doping contamination. Earlier in the week, Leo had made a joke to a journalist about the prospect of a charity match: "We can't invite Sinner," he'd said, a wink at the English meaning of the player's surname. By Wednesday, the quip had dissolved into something warmer.
Sinner arrived with his parents at the Vatican's auditorium reception room. He held out one of his own rackets, offered the pope another, and suggested they hit a few balls. Leo glanced around at the surrounding antiques and declined with a smile. Instead, he riffed on his white cassock, joking that it would satisfy the all-white dress code at Wimbledon. The conversation turned practical: How was the tournament treating him? "Now I'm in the game," Sinner replied in Italian. "At the beginning, it was difficult."
Thursday would bring a quarterfinal match—either against Casper Ruud, fresh off a Madrid title, or Jaume Munar. Sinner is chasing history: a chance to become the first Italian man to win Rome since Adriano Panatta in 1976. It's a goal that now carries the weight of papal attention.
Angelo Binaghi, head of the Italian Tennis and Padel Federation, presented Leo with an honorary federation card. "We all felt the passion that Leo XIV has for our sport," Binaghi said in a statement, "and this filled us with pride." He added a hopeful note: "We hope to embrace the Holy Father again soon, maybe on a tennis court."
The two posed for photographs in front of the Davis Cup that Sinner had helped Italy win for the second consecutive year, and nearby sat the Billie Jean King Cup, claimed by Italy's women in 2024. These trophies, displayed in the same room, told a story of Italian tennis at its peak—and now, of a pope who understands the language the sport speaks.
Earlier, when Leo's joke about Sinner had circulated, the player had responded with grace. "It's a good thing for us tennis players that the new pope likes to play the sport," he'd said. The comment suggested something deeper than a clever quip: the recognition that a leader's attention to a game matters, that it signals something about what a culture values. Leo, who also follows the Chicago White Sox with devotion, brings to the papacy an American's comfort with sports as a legitimate passion. His predecessor, Pope Francis, had been a lifelong fan of Buenos Aires' San Lorenzo soccer club. The pattern holds. These men, whatever their office, remain rooted in the games that shaped them.
Notable Quotes
It's a good thing for us tennis players that the new pope likes to play the sport.— Jannik Sinner
We all felt the passion that Leo XIV has for our sport and this filled us with pride.— Angelo Binaghi, head of the Italian Tennis and Padel Federation
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that a pope plays tennis?
Because it signals what a leader pays attention to. Francis loved soccer. Leo loves tennis. It's not trivial—it's how they stay human, how they connect to the world outside the Vatican walls.
But Sinner had just come off a doping ban. Wasn't that awkward?
You'd think so. But Leo had already made a joke about the name, and Sinner had responded gracefully. By Wednesday, they were both leaning into the humor. It felt like a reset—the pope saying, I see you, I respect what you do, let's move forward.
What's the real story here—the meeting itself, or what it says about Sinner's comeback?
Both. Sinner's trying to win Rome for the first time as an Italian man in nearly fifty years. That's enormous pressure. Having the pope's attention, his blessing almost, changes the narrative. It's not just about tennis anymore.
Did they actually play?
No. Leo looked at the antiques in the room and said better not. It was the right call. The point wasn't the volley. It was the gesture—the offer, the racket exchanged, the conversation. That's what mattered.
What happens next?
Sinner plays Thursday. He's got a quarterfinal. And now he carries something he didn't have before—the knowledge that the pope is watching, that he matters beyond the rankings.