During one of the busiest times at the U.S. Open, a confused man, his eyes darting about in search of something outside Louis Armstrong Stadium, approached a women dressed in a blue uniform beneath a crisp straw hat.
The man, still looking around, struggled to find words to explain his dilemma. As he stammered, the woman in the straw hat extended both of her hands in a calming fashion and said, “Tell me.”
The man took a breath and was finally able to communicate to Rosemary Marrugo, a U.S. Open ambassador. He didn’t know how to get to the subway. With a smile, she pointed him in the right direction.
For 49 weeks of the year, Ms. Marrugo is a licensed mental health counselor on Long Island. During her three weeks of vacation, she works as one of about 50 U.S. Open ambassadors, the professionally upbeat, helpful and friendly souls who take up positions around the grounds from morning to night, assisting fans with selfies, directions and questions about where the best food is, or why there are no more seats available at Armstrong.
For some fans, a mental health worker is exactly what they need after spending 25 minutes in line on a steaming hot day to buy a $38 sandwich to take to their $500 seats. For others, they just need to know where the nearest bathroom is, or if they are required to leave when the day session is over (they are not).
Ms. Marrugo, a skilled tennis player herself, almost always has the answers. Generally, it’s more straightforward than untangling interpersonal relationships as a therapist, but occasionally there are similarities.
“They are definitely two different jobs,” she said. “But yes, sometimes, maybe I can use my professional skills to help fans have an even better experience.”
She once helped two parents reunite with their temporarily lost son. It’s always rewarding when fans from Alabama, California or Spain tell her they remember her from previous tournaments.
A few years ago a man entering Arthur Ashe Stadium at the President’s Gate was clearly agitated. Ms. Marrugo sensed something was weighing on him, and she approached. They spoke for about five minutes.
Naturally, as a health care professional, she would not reveal the contents of their conversation. But she said she remembered it fondly because the man had left with a much more cheerful countenance. “What we do is listen first, and then be compassionate, caring and empathetic,” she said. “Sometimes you can see they are looking for help, so you engage with them.”
Ambassadors are, by design, easy to spot. They wear blue uniforms, bright yellow sneakers and the signature straw hats. Fans constantly ask them about their stylish chapeaus, but the hats are not for sale. To wear them, a candidate must first apply to the United States Tennis Association and show that they have the requisite energy, patience, communication skills — a second or third language helps; Ms. Marrugo is also fluent in Spanish — and sunny disposition.
Ambassadors must know every inch of the grounds in Queens, including the best place to find some shade or the fastest way back to Manhattan. They can help with crowd control, and they take hundreds of photographs for fans every day.
Wimbledon, Britain’s major tournament, has a similar program, dating to 1946, but it employs members of the nation’s military.
Ms. Marrugo is in her 16th year as an ambassador, a job she started while still playing tennis for Long Island University. She grew up in Oyster Bay and played competitively from an early age, including in tournaments at the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center. She considered pursuing the sport professionally, but opted instead to attend college, and she still found a way to work at the Open. Four years ago she was promoted to supervisor.
“We are here to help in any way we can, and to say, ‘Thank you,’” Ms. Marrugo said.
Perhaps most remarkable, especially on hot days, is the energy level and cheerful aspect the ambassadors display over the course of 22 straight days. Ms. Marrugo says it’s her personality, and even if it is the 200th time that day that she told someone where the fountain plaza is, it is the first time for that fan.
But the ambassadors must prepare, like the players themselves. Courtney Wilson has been an ambassador for two years. With a background in hotel hospitality and customer service, she also worked at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. It seems impossible to find even the slightest lapse in her cheerfulness.
“I make sure to get plenty of sleep, eat right and wear these good shoes they give us, because we are on our feet all day,” Ms. Wilson said brightly. “It’s a mind-set. Fans deserve a polite response every single time.”
Fans, on the other hand, can get grumpy. One of the hardest tasks for the ambassadors is explaining to them that all the general admission seats at Armstrong Stadium are already taken and that they must wait. Ambassadors also politely ask fans not to vape roughly 200 times a day.
And of course, there are those questions about where to buy one of those straw hats.
“We tell them, ‘There’s only one way,” Ms. Marrugo said with a smile. “‘You’ve got to become an ambassador.’”
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