Seven break points may have been the difference. So, perhaps, was everything Alex Eala had learned about surviving when a tennis match refuses to behave.
The 21-year-old Filipina edged American Caty McNally, 6-3, 7-5, 6-4, in a nearly three-hour National Bank Open battle in Toronto, extending her winning streak to seven matches since her magical run in Washington and sending her into the round of 16.
It was hardly a stroll.
Eala converted seven of 13 break points, while McNally took six of eight. The American hit 28 winners to Eala’s 27, and both players were generous with unforced errors. Eala had 39, McNally 34. The numbers tell the story of a match played on a knife edge, where control was temporary, and momentum had an expiration date.
“I survived that one. It was so tough,” Eala said afterward.
That was not false modesty. McNally had earned her shot at Eala by dispatching reigning Wimbledon champion Linda Noskova in straight sets. She arrived with confidence, aggression, and every intention of making Toronto another upset stop.
Eala initially looked unsettled.
She dropped the opening game and fell behind 1-3 as McNally attacked with the conviction of someone who had already discovered that bigger names could bleed.
Then Eala found her rhythm.
A mix of aces, cross-court winners, and slices helped her reel off five straight games. She broke McNally twice, and suddenly the first set belonged to her.
The second set was more complicated, and considerably more frightening.
Eala moved forward more often, meeting McNally’s aggression with her own, and finding sharp cross-court passing shots. She broke for a 2-1 lead, only for McNally to level.
Then Eala landed awkwardly after a forehand return.
She took off her shoe, felt around her right ankle, and continued to regain the lead, 3-2. At the changeover, a medical timeout followed. The physiotherapist taped the ankle as the usually boisterous “Alexandra Army” fell unusually quiet.
For a moment, the match seemed to have acquired a different question. It was no longer simply about who would win. It was whether Eala could safely finish it.
The tape did not feel right. After dropping two points, she had it removed.
And carried on.
The crowd responded. Philippine flags rose around the arena, handmade signs appeared, and the noise became another layer of support. Eala broke again to move within a game of the set.
McNally still had an answer.
She swept the next three points to take the set, 7-5, leaving Eala with the uncomfortable task of starting over after coming so close.
At the break, Eala changed clothes. It was a brief pause, but perhaps the reset she needed.
She returned to break McNally immediately.
Then she held.
Two games. A new set. A new Eala.
The third set still had its moments, but the Filipina increasingly looked like the player most capable of absorbing the match’s chaos. She pressed forward, changed pace, defended when necessary, and attacked when the opening appeared.
McNally had made her work for every inch. Eala simply refused to give any of it back.
When the final point arrived, it was not just another victory. It was the release after nearly three hours of tension, pain, momentum swings, and the nagging possibility that the match could slip away at any moment.
Eala knew it.
So did the crowd.
“I’m doing my best to power through and be professional and do what I know how to do,” she said during an emotional on-court interview.
Then she looked toward the full house.
“To play in front of you guys is amazing.”
There was a telling gesture just before the interview, too. Eala gave McNally a heartfelt standing ovation as the American walked off.
It was gracious, but it also said something about the night.
Eala had not simply beaten an opponent. She had survived a match that demanded patience, nerve, physical resilience, and, eventually, a little bit of emotional steel.
Seven straight wins is the headline.
But in Toronto, the more revealing statistic may have been simpler.
Eala found a way.
