Oh, Marat. You can't do that. You can't be both brilliant and a fucking retard all at the same time. You can't claw your way back from 2 sets down with crazy forehands and brilliant serving, saving two match points along the way, and, I don't know, ACT LIKE YOU CARE, only to revert back to the Marat of late, wildly flailing at a forehand that goes wide to give some French noname (sorry, I'm sure you're a nice dude) the win. Why couldn't you just lose in three easy sets and call it a clay career? Why did you have to give us hope? Why did you have to remind us why we love you so and wake up at godawful times in the morning only to watch you break our hearts? How can you be so fucking loveable and infuriating all at the same time?
Oh, yeah. You're The Marat. Duh.
[SQUIRT]...Uh, sure, but where'd the lighter fluid come from?