Djokovic vs. Blake: Butt Battle! And, Tracey Austin Torn Apart by Wild Dogs

It's Djokovic and Blake, and man, these guys have giant asses.

Blake's is immediately evident. It fills up half the TV screen. We are in the country, where our TV is smaller, but I don't think that makes a difference. I think on our big TV it would be even bigger! Ginormous butt, a tennis-engine butt machine shooshing him around the court.

Djokovic, today it is not quite as overwhelmingly evident on the TV - but P tells me that in person playing doubles in Canada, his butt was like a giant shelf you could put your things on - keys, wallet, the mail, a few chotchkys, a picture of your mum, etc. And, bent over and waiting for the return, he held it still, so the things would not fall off if you put them there, not like Clijsters, who wags her rear around whilst waiting to return.

Tennis is a Metaphor for Life (aka Must Watch Tennis all The Time) has produced brave reporting on tennis players' asses before - read more here.

Butts, butts, butts.

Anyway, in other news, whenever we've been watching the Tennis channel, we've indulged in detailed fantasies about horrible, violent things happening to Tracey Austin. In one version, one of the camera men dropped his camera, so it was like lying on the ground showing a sideways shot, and he ran after Tracey screaming "Shut the fuck up, you idiot, I've been listening to your stupid shit all day and I can't take it any more!" Blood splatters around the room, and Tracey's face falls to the ground in front of the abandoned camera, THUNK! Then in the background you see the camera man being led away by cops, weeping quietly and mumbling, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't stand it", and the cops saying, "we understand, we'll talk to the DA, should be Man 1" (a little Law and Order creeping in here - sometimes we take breaks from tennis and watch Laws and Orders).

In another version, we got really irritated with Jim Courier on CBS today, so we started to imagine Tracey and Jim in an all-out, no holds barred jailhouse blood quest death battle. Jim is talking, saying something like "Monfills should really try to play tennis better" when Tracey, motivated by who know what evil voices in her twisted, otherwise empty head, creeps up behind, picks up a heavy mike boom and WHAM! Smacks Jim in the back of the head. Blood sprays everywhere - onto the camera lens, like, in front of the players on the court (maybe that's not realistic but... it's fantasy!). But Jim is still a fit guy, and he doesn't go down easy - he grabs the complimentary pen provided for commentators to write notes like "these players are not as good as ME" on the complimentary note pads during the commercial breaks, and, even as he slumps to the ground, swings round and jabs the pen straight into Tracey's pulsating jugular vein. Blood gushes out as Tracey makes a bitchy face and says "Jim, that's all you got? You always were a pussy" - meanwhile the color drains out of her face as her life essence sprays out all over the horrified camera crew and poor Ted Robinson, who is scowling at the unprofessionalism of his pathetic actual-tennis-player colleagues. She collapses to the floor, on the way down, grabbing a heavy paper weight and bringing it down on Jim's head, splattering new waves of blood everywhere, even as he, with his last breath, snags a steak knife off the remains of the lunch spread and juts it up into Tracey's bony ribcage as she collapses down onto him, provoking new giant spurts of blood and gore.

Anyway you get the idea -not too fond of Tracey and Jim. Jimmy (Connors) and Martina on the other hand are kind of cute together.

Going - RR out

Crivoi Defeats Blake

This was a very weird match. I am glad Crivoi -the Romanian qualifier- beat Blake because he should have, and then almost didn't, but then did and I'm happy about that.

I like James Blake. Of all the American players, I may like him the most. I like him better than Roddick, Mardy Fish- wait, I like Ginepri better than him, and possibly San Querrey- but I don't HATE Blake. (Um, I pretty much hate Roddick because of the way he talks to the chair and the way he picked his wife out of a catalogue, like he was shopping for a chair.)

That said, Blake was acting like such a baby. (Rick Rock just said, "maybe he needed his diaper changed). A grumpy prima donna. Yes, the weather was sucking. Yes, clay is not his favorite surface. But. BUT- then you prance around the court like the world owes you better than that? I mean, really. He exuded attitude. At times, he seemed like he was purposefully walking in slow motion between points.

He should beat the number 125 player in the world- right? But how can he, if he's so busy feeling sorry for himself? Because the weather sucks?And how awesome is it to see some young dude from some hellish country where NOTHING is given to you, you have to fight for every single thing, like, even pieces of bread and shit, win such an important match. Good job, Civoi.



Yours Truly,
Paula

Blake Defeats Andreev ( I think, it's not over yet)

Now, I'm all for Blake winning. But to do so so handily does not make for an exciting match. (Wait, Igor won that third set...nice.) Of all the American male players, Blake is my favorite. But as we all know here, I prefer the Latin dudes. And Igor is an honorary Latin dude and so I am little bummed to watch him get his fanny whooped. I say that Igor is an honorary Latino because he lived and learned tennis in Spain. He speaks Spanish beautifully, like some other Russians who lived in Spain-- Safin, Kuznetsova. Once, I sat next to him on a back court. He had towel over his head. We were both watching Ferrer, who is, like, his buddy. He was cheering on Ferrer in Spanish! I was like, in my mind, you are sooo cool. I didn't say anything to him in real life, though. I was feeling shy at the moment. Also, last August in Canada? I saw lots of tennis. But my favorite match was between Andreev and Monfils, a three setter. No one hits the ball WIERDER than Andreev. The action he gets on his forehands- it's more intense than anyone but perhaps Nadal's. So how is it he is sucking so badly here against Blake? No entiendo (that means "I don't understand". But he did take that third set. Hm.)

Also, Igor is a favorite name of mine. One, I like Igor Stravinsky. I think he made good music. Also, when I was a little girl, my dad really liked Stravinsky. So when I was like five, I got a cat, and named him Igor. I was so in love with that cat that once I ate cat food, to, like, bond with him. (It tasted really bad. One of my, like, three childhood memories that I actually remember, up there with breaking my arm doing wild cartwheels in the backyard. My son Cheeswad's memory I think works like mine. Every year in school, or so it seems, he has to do some writing exersize using "small moments" and he always writes about the time he got his finger slammed in a car door. It's the only thing he will remember from his childhood. Maybe I should convince him to try cat food, so he can have another memory.)

Yours Truly,
Paula

Tennistardation

My brain is fried with tennis, in the best possible way. I am still watching yesterday's stuff. It's a lot of tennis, these early rounds! And I sometimes get behind. But I always catch up. I am watching Dancevic v. Blake. Dancevic is cute- for one, he's Canadian. That right there makes him cute. But I am not digging the "bun". Men should not sport buns. Safin, briefly, sported a bun. He figured out quickly that it is wasn't right. Now Dancevic needs to figure it out.

My man Canas won his match. Tough five setter. Somewhere, there is a photo of his girlfriend that freaked us out with her hotness and made our respect for Canas SHOOT through the roof. I mean, if he gets to do her, he is just, like, a god or something.

(Rick Rock here - here is a picture of GC's girl, Fabiana Semprebom. This picture caused discord in our household...)

More soon.
Later:
I took a fantastic tennis nap. At first Mary Carillo oozing on about James Blake and Obama (I like both those dudes very much, but Carillo annoys me some) was irritating me, but then later, I got all soothed from the "thwack, thwack" of balls and ...ah, naptime.

But I just woke up to see Nadal bagelling poor Christophe Rochus. I mean, why make those two play each other? Why? We now are fast forwarding. That was just too ugly. Like watching a cat bat around a mouse. Or like when my dog ate a bunny rabbit under the kitchen table. Or like when they used to hang people with thier innards hanging out so that birds would eat thier insides while they screamed and died slowly and painfully. Yeah, just like that.

Yours Truly,
Paula