"Our lives aren't normal": Rivals and friends as Alexandra Eala counts on support from Mboko, Sonmez, Jovic and Lys among others

When Alexandra Eala walks onto a tennis court these days, she doesn’t just arrive as a rising WTA talent—she arrives to a crowd.

The 18-year-old has quickly become one of the most recognisable young stars in the game, carrying with her a wave of Filipino support that has transformed atmospheres from Melbourne to Dubai. But as she explains, adjusting to that level of attention hasn’t been instant.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” Eala admits speaking on The Players Box Podcast with Jennifer Brady, Jessica Pegula, Madison Keys and Desirae Krawczyk. “Especially this past year, when I started playing bigger tournaments, Filipinos would really show up for me. It’s an amazing thing to have—but it’s hard to believe that you’re famous.”

That realisation didn’t come all at once. Instead, it built gradually—match by match, city by city—until the scale of her support became impossible to ignore. “This year, everything just elevated even more,” she says. “In Australia, I was on a smaller court, but when I saw videos afterward, it was madness. Everywhere we’ve gone—Manila, Melbourne, the Middle East—there are so many Filipinos. It slowly started to sink in.”

Accepting it, she adds, was key. “Once I accepted that I was becoming a public figure, it became easier to handle.”

Despite the noise around her, Eala insists her day-to-day life hasn’t dramatically changed. “Not as much as you’d think,” she says. “I’m still training. My life is still all about tennis.”

What has changed is the visibility. “I notice it more when I’m at home, but also in other countries now—I get recognised,” she explains. “I was in LA visiting my cousin, and three people came up to me. Two years ago, that would never have happened.”

That global recognition is matched by a uniquely loyal fanbase. While many players rely on home crowds, Eala often finds herself backed wherever she goes. “New York is big. Melbourne, definitely. Dubai as well—and the Middle East in general,” she says. “There’s a huge Filipino population there.”

In fact, her presence has helped flip expectations in regions not typically known for packed stands. “Some people say those tournaments aren’t as full,” she adds. “But for me, it’s the opposite. In Abu Dhabi, the stadium was completely filled. People were waiting just for my matches.”

For Eala, one of the clearest signs that things had changed came not during matches—but during practice. “That’s how I knew,” she says. “When people started waiting for my practices.”

The adjustment hasn’t been without challenges. At the start of the year in Australia, a routine training session turned into a moment she won’t forget. “I didn’t have security,” she recalls. “After practice, people rushed in for autographs and I got pushed up against a wall. It got a bit dangerous. I had to shout, ‘Wait, give me some space or I’m going to get run over.’”

It was a wake-up call—not just about safety, but about accepting her new reality. "At first, I didn’t want security. I thought, ‘Who am I to need that?’ But then I realised—it’s a safety thing.”

While the speed of her rise has surprised her, Eala believes she was better prepared than she initially realised. “Even when I was ranked lower, Filipinos would still come support me—even in qualifying,” she says. “I just didn’t expect the amount of people, or how quickly it would grow.”

That connection to her roots remains central to her identity—something reflected both on and off the court. “When I get nervous, I pray—that’s very Filipino,” she says. “And sunscreen—I put sunscreen on religiously.”

If she had the chance to show fellow players her world, Eala knows exactly where she’d start. “Boracay,” she says, smiling. “Some people say it’s overrated, but I disagree. It’s my favourite.”

Back in Manila, she’d take them somewhere more personal—the courts where her game was shaped. “We had ‘shell courts,’ which are like clay but made from crushed shells and sand,” she explains. “And one court was half tennis, half basketball, with hoops right behind the baseline.”

It’s an unusual setup that may have left a lasting imprint on her style.

“I hit very flat and stay on the baseline,” she says. “Probably because if I moved back, I’d hit the basketball hoops.”

Eala’s journey to the top level took a major step forward when she joined the Rafa Nadal Academy in Spain—a move that began with a breakthrough moment as a junior. “I won a tournament in France when I was 12,” she says. “A few months later, the academy reached out. At first, I didn’t think it was serious. But once I realised it was, I said yes immediately. It felt like the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Academy life proved both formative and enjoyable. “I really did love it,” she says. “I made great friendships, which are very important to me.”

Still, the realities of tennis life meant balancing relationships with constant travel. “You’re still away from your friends a lot,” she admits. “But looking back, I had so much fun.”

Now competing regularly on the WTA Tour, Eala is continuing to grow—not just as a player, but as a person. “I’ve had to work on being more social,” she says. “If you don’t make the effort, people won’t necessarily come to you.”

As her ranking has improved, so has her confidence. “Being on tour more has helped me approach other players,” she explains.

She already counts a number of young stars among her closest friends, including Zeynep Sönmez, Eva Lys, Victoria Mboko and Iva Jovic. “It’s a really nice group,” she says. “We’re all around the same age, pushing each other.”

That sense of connection is something she believes is essential in a sport that can often feel isolating. “Our lives aren’t normal,” she says. “So having that support system on tour is really important.”

Despite the growing spotlight, Eala’s personality remains grounded—and often playful. Asked about small talk, she laughs: “I usually go with something simple like, ‘Do you play today?’ or something about food.”

And when it comes to social situations? “If I only know one person, I go straight to them,” she says. “No hesitation.”

Even the challenges, like having her name mispronounced are handled with perspective and saw Madison Keys also moot how hers is often misprounounced. “I usually let it slide,” she says. “But I always end up spelling it out: E-A-L-A. And people still get it wrong.”

For all the noise, the crowds, and the rapid rise, Eala is still adjusting to the reality of who she’s becoming. “I didn’t imagine I’d get to this point this quickly,” she admits.

But as the fans continue to follow her around the world—and the tennis world continues to take notice—one thing is already clear: Alexandra Eala's rise is only going to continue.