So we went over to Court One. We watched the end of Benneteau and Istomin (from Uzbekstan, big guy, young, handsome and I wanted him to win, as he was the underdog, and I always feel for the players from places like Uzbekestan, plus he gave off a good vibe) and I must say, Benneteau beat him handily, which was great- even if I liked Istomin for different reasons-- as we wanted to watch the upcoming doubles match. (Oh, and I said to Rick Rock, "Is that Carlos Bernardi in the chair?" He said, "why yes!" He isa very good chair and we feel super geeked out when we know the chairs...) Court One filled up with lots of overspill. Then the stars came! It was all very exciting. They warmed up. We felt sort of sorry for Ross Hutchins, Murray's partner, as he is not really in the same league as the other players.
Anyway, the whole thing made me think of these books I'm reading, The Cazalet Chornicles (lots of links to come when I revise, people), which takes place during WWII. I mean, A Frenchman and a GERMAN playing together, in harmony! Now, on the other side, we have England, all united together, wearing cute matching outfits. But in my books, France was conquered by Germany and then England fights them, and the whole world is a terrible mess beyond all comprehension, harder to understand than like, why Mars is red and cold. The books are sad, or worse. So- to see these countries all on a court together hitting a little green ball around, not to mention being all handsome and sexy and young and full of life- sheesh. Tennis promotes world peace. That is all I can say. World Peace Through Tennis! I was moved. Also, Monfils and Murray are super hot.
Then is rained.
While it poured rain, I shopped. Stella McCartney makes tennis clothes. Some of it is very pretty. Some of it is entirely impractical and I sort of wonder if she actually givesa flying fuck about tennis. I think she may just like fashion I bought a tiny little skirt that I plan to wear, not necessarily while playing tennis. Maybe while watching tennis. Not sure. Maybe while pole dancing at my part time job as a stripper. Or maybe while hanging out with my other twelve year old girlfriends in the seventh grade just like me, after we leave our Greenwich Country Day school for the club where one must where all whites, where we take private lessons with a pro named something like, "Ross Huntington".
When the rain stopped and we'd scarfed down hot dogs, we rushed back to the doubles match on court one, but alas, we were too late. There was no room whatsover. So- Poor Us- we went over to the Grandstand, sat right up front and watched Feliciano Lopez and De Bakker. I HAD EYE CONTACT WITH FELI. I love him. He is beautiful. He is a bit mournful and less prissy I think, since he knocked up Miss Spain or whoever she is or maybe that's gossip. They warmed up. They started to play. We all watched in awe- two amazing tennis players. During the sit down, which happened feet from my face, Feli would pour water all over his head and rub his hair down and give it a shake. I was reminded of gazelles in the wilds of Africa, running through the open fields, the rain making their hides glisten. I also wanted to go and do that, pour water on his head and - run my hand over his head afterward. Oh, and Fergus something or other was in the chair! I will say- a couple of bad calls he did not overrule. Hm. I like his Irishy accent though. The camera was on Feli THE WHOLE TIME. Not once on poor de Bakker, but de Bakker is having a breakout year, so that's one good thing. Also, the stadium was full of lots of pretty girls wearing off the shoulder shirts and high heels and make up and RR and I called it "Hoooker Stadium". That's what Feli brings out in the world, a stadium full of scantily dressed young women.
Then it rained. We came in third place in the contest of "who can stay out in the rain the longest".
Off to Day TWO!!!!! So many good matches. I'm feeling all jittery.