MELBOURNE, Australia – Just over 12 months ago, Novak Djokovic was crowned Australian Open champion for the eighth time, US upstart Sofia Kenin took a first Slam win, millions of dollars were raised for the Australian bushfire fund and tennis season was just on the way. And then the COVID-19 pandemic took over.
What started as a peculiar topic of conversation around the Australian Open water coolers quickly became a little concerning as the virus began to spread faster than many expected.
Three weeks after the world’s best tennis players landed in Melbourne, one of the city’s other showpieces, the Australian Formula 1 Grand Prix, was spectacularly canceled on Friday morning practice, leaving fans, organizers, teams and drivers were left at a loss.
The coronavirus had spread to Australia, as well as many other parts of the world. In Italy, morgues overflowed, emergency rooms were full, and there was a worrying shortage of masks and other personal protective equipment.
Sport was not immune. The NBA season was shelved, footballers in Europe tested positive for the virus, threw leagues into chaos, and Australia’s own winter sports codes lasted just a week before being discontinued.
Australia’s federal government closed its international borders shortly after, allowing only returning citizens and people with valid reason to travel to Australia. The states implemented a “hotel quarantine program” whereby returning travelers were placed in hotels for a mandatory 14 days, who were unable to leave their rooms until the two weeks had passed.
Australia had quite a grip on the virus, with many other countries around the world struggling. In March, Australia faced about 300 daily cases, but the highly successful quarantine program had reduced that to single figures by May.
But in mid-June, there was an outbreak of a hotel manager catching it from a returning traveler, and the cases quickly spread from there, with the number increasing from a few digits a day to tens to hundreds.
On July 21, 721 cases were registered in Australia – almost all in the state of Victoria. It became the flash point for the state – and the nation – response to the crisis.
The state government of Victoria initially tried to close social housing close, where a concentration of cases was found. Zip code locks followed, but it was eventually announced that a “hard lockdown” in the metro area was the best way to end the spread in Melbourne.
Masks were made compulsory when leaving the house, while people could only leave for “four essential reasons” – care, grocery shopping and medicine, an hour of exercise and going to (essential) work.
A curfew was then imposed between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m. Residents could travel no further than a “bubble” of 5 kilometers around their place of residence. Visiting friends and even relatives (outside of one’s household) was prohibited, with heavy fines for those who break the rules. It was one of the world’s toughest lockdowns at the time.
Initially it was thought that the hard lock would last for two weeks – a “life cycle” of the virus. But two soon became four, which soon became “indeterminate”. The city center was a ghost town, both during the day and at night. Restaurants were closed except for delivery and takeout. Non-essential stores were closed, forced to go online. Gyms, swimming pools, golf courses and tennis courts were closed. Melbourne’s iconic trams, buses and trains – although still running – were empty. Streets were deserted.
The mood was not much different from how millions of others around the world have responded to the pandemic. People who were extremely optimistic were shadows of themselves on Zoom calls or social media, while frustration was rampant among news stories about case numbers, government responses, and the social side effects of the lockdown. As the situation expanded from weeks to months beyond what was initially promised by the government, apathy began to develop – Melburnians were missing their families, their friends – a ‘normal’ life. Locked up at their house for 23 hours a day, it was energy-less and mentally draining.
Sport had left Melbourne. The Australian football teams, the rugby and football teams were all expelled from the state. Stadiums were inactive. It was spooky. Victoria faced an uphill battle that had been lost many times over in many parts of the world.
It was not without vocal opposition to taking away people’s freedoms, but a vast majority of Victorians set aside personal freedoms for the greater good. The government provided financial support to businesses and workers who had to close as a result of the lockdowns.
The people dug in, and a parochial sense of belonging to Melbourne emerged. Restaurants offered delivery packages with vacuum-packed treats designed to match the dining experience. Small businesses offered same-day delivery for items and delivered goods themselves to keep afloat. Home workout routines were circulating on social media, and fitness equipment sold out statewide.
The people were also part of the wave of emotions that accompanied every daily COVID-19-related press conference, led by Prime Minister Daniel Andrews. With a spike in numbers, the fear, sadness, and anger came out, and it was hard not to feel the negativity.
To put it in perspective, on the same day (July 21) that Victoria (and Australia) registered 721 cases, France registered 584.
In Victoria things started to get better. The harsh measures worked despite fierce opposition from some sections of the media, the state opposition political party and the federal government. It was the concerted efforts of 5 million Victorians that caused the number of cases to shift from an almost exponential trajectory in July to consecutive days of “zero new cases, zero deaths” in mid-October.
When Victoria provisionally reopened hospitality and non-essential retailing in late October, the state had registered two zero new cases in that week.
The second wave of France peaked with 86,582 new infections on November 7 alone.
Melbourne had brought the coronavirus under control and was heading for what the Prime Minister described as a “COVID normal summer”.
And so began the city’s rebirth. Melburnians were allowed to return to restaurants, pubs and cafes, in limited numbers and for limited times. Food ordering in restaurants was widely done through QR code, masks were worn at tables and then set aside, and everyone had to check in everywhere to help the local contact tracers in case of an outbreak.
But the patch was not ripped off all at once. The state government lifted its segment restrictions; While restaurants had reopened, having visitors to the home was still limited to just two adults a day, as models had shown that the virus was more likely to spread in homes where people were much more relaxed and closer together.
On Nov. 24, the state registered zero active cases of the virus for the first time since Feb. 29. And while cases have popped up every now and then since December, the city has enjoyed its ‘COVID-normal’ summer, complete with concerts, music festivals, busy bars and clubs, and once again crowds at sporting events.
While some of the world’s best tennis players have complained about hotel quarantine, or the harsh measures they’ve faced since entering Australia, it’s no wonder that Melburnians, in particular, haven’t shown much sympathy. They have done the work – put it on the hard yards – and are now reaping the benefits.
The overwhelming feeling was that those who don’t want to adhere to the state’s grueling hotel quarantine measures to enjoy a ‘normal’ Melbourne are welcome to stay where they are. After all, there are thousands of stranded Aussies begging governments to open more quarantine rooms for citizens stranded abroad.
The death rate in Australia is about 1 in 28,000 people. Less than 1,000 people have died from the coronavirus. The percentage in the US during the pandemic is about 1 in 870 people with more than 460,000 deaths.
Yes, people wear masks, hand cleaning stations are on every corner and there is a maximum of 30,000 people per day, but the 2021 Australian Open is not much different from last year’s. There are lines for ice cream and food trucks. The sun shines. Melbourne Park looks normal, proof that the population is sticking to the restrictions.
The atmosphere too feels normal, in a sense. Months ago, Melburnians may not have expected the tournament to continue at all. But what has resulted is a safe, welcoming and familiar experience.