When the decade-old internet phenomenon Hot Ones invites a star, it’s hard to say no: eating ten chicken wings that escalate from “tangy” to “pure volcano” has become a mandatory stop on any PR tour. This time, the fiery seat belonged to Maria Sharapova, and her appearance quickly turned into an honest talk about tennis, fears, tournament meals, and that championship backhand. We captured the interview’s most vivid moments for you.
Blazing Wings and First Tears: The Heat Test
Host: Maria, you look a bit tense.
Sharapova: I’m ridiculously nervous! Everything was fine while only the sauce bottles were on the table, but once the wings showed up, my palms started sweating. Definitely a bad sign.
By the eighth wing—coated in “get-me-out-of-here” sauce—Sharapova’s face flushed and her eyes sparkled.
Maria, dabbing away tears: I’m usually not wearing makeup when I cry. Looks like today’s an exception.
Signature Backhand Formula: Focus, Momentum, Risk
Host: Your two-handed backhand is considered textbook perfect. What’s the secret?
Sharapova: The simplest mantra: “Keep your eyes on the ball and don’t slow down.” In tennis and in life, I’d rather not ease off. If the ball is on my strings, I take the risk and swing at full speed.
Scream as Breathing: Why 101 dB Isn’t a Mind Game
Host: At Wimbledon, your scream was measured at 101 dB—almost a jet engine. Was that a tactic to intimidate?
Sharapova: Honestly, no. I started screaming as a kid—it just made breathing easier. As I grew, the volume grew too. That’s how it is. I’ll probably scream even louder on the ninth wing (laughs).
Left-Handed Trick Shot: A Hidden Weapon for Winning Rallies
Host: Do you have a favorite trick you never tire of replaying?
Sharapova: Sometimes, instead of the classic two-handed backhand, I hit a one-hander… with my left. It catches the opponent off guard; the ball flies at an odd angle, and I win the point. No tweeners or behind-the-back shots—just pure efficiency.
Flow State: The Magic of Wimbledon 2004’s Fourth Round
Host: You said you first felt “flow” at Wimbledon 2004. What is it like?
Sharapova: It’s when everything happens on its own. You don’t calculate the trajectory—you just know the ball will kiss the line. I felt that against Amy Frazier and told myself in the shower, “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel this again, but it was amazing.”
Silver’s Sting: The Awards Ceremony After a Lost Final
Host: The most painful feeling of your career?
Sharapova: Standing on court during the ceremony after losing. In tennis, the finalist stays while the champion lifts the trophy and collects the check. You stand there with a glass consolation plate and wet eyes. But that vulnerability steels your character and helps you win next time.
Steamed Chicken Versus “Nuclear” Sauces: The Tour’s Cuisine
Host: You often complain about the players’ menu—rice and plain chicken. Which is worse: that or ultra-spicy wings?
Sharapova: Easy! I’d rather down ten fiery wings than ever see that plastic tray of bland rice, dry chicken breast, and steamed carrots again.
Champions’ “Galactic Brain”: The Invisible Link Among Elite Athletes
Host: Have you ever felt a mental bond with athletes from other sports?
Sharapova: We rarely say it aloud, but top performers share similar DNA: an obsession with perfection. You’re down 5-6 in a third-set tiebreak, and an instinct kicks in that won’t let you quit. It’s an unspoken mutual understanding.
Dream Final: A Fearless 17-Year-Old Versus Serena
Host: Name the match that best captures why you love tennis.
Sharapova: My first Grand Slam final—Wimbledon 2004 against Serena. I was 17; I should have just been happy to be there, but I was fearless, immersed in the moment, and let myself win. Stories like that are why I adore our sport.
Epilogue
Hot Ones unexpectedly blended gastronomic extremes with candid conversation. In the fiery pause between a 101-dB scream and a perfect backhand, Maria Sharapova proved once again: for a true champion, a taste of heat only adds fuel—both on court and at the table.
