"If I am not wrong, I think that he will play the final against Roger. It's gonna be a tough match, because I think Roger play really good in these conditions. It's going to be a very tough final for Rafa if he plays against Roger in the final. I think if I need to bet here, I will bet for Roger. I think that he won five times here and he like these conditions."
-- Fernando, on Rafa's chances.
"Well for sure Roger is the favorite of the tournament.... Everybody's free to think, and what Fernando says is completely fair."
-- Rafa, when asked about Fernando's comments.
This is my personal blog. I write about tennis for other far more reputable and civilized outfits. You can find them here.
All opinions on this site are my own. Unfortunately.
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Use, Yes. Steal, No.
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September 2010
September 10, 2010
September 09, 2010
Dust In The Wind.
Well, Fer, at least you broke Rafa. You're the only one to have done it this tournament. Then again, you only did it once (early in the first) and you couldn't hold on to the lead. After Rafa was able to secure the first set 75, it was all downhill in a match where the wind was gusting, the temperatures frigid, and Rafa en fuego. The wind in particular was a damn shame. After their AO09 clash, I always get excited whenever these two play. This could have been pretty great. Or it could have been the same. Either way, I hate when matches are influenced by wind.
Hair and facial expressions aside, Fer should be really proud about what he did this week. I'm not sure anyone, even his diehard fans, thought he would play as well as he did at the USO. Unfortunately, his good run ended as many of his memorable ones have: He ran into Rafa.
Vamos, Rafa. He's got Misha on Saturday.
Misha? Like...Fo Real???
I fell asleep before the fourth set of the Misha/Stan match. Apparently I just really needed a nap. Imagine my surprise when I woke up three hours later to see that Rafa and Fernando were playing for a chance to play Misha in the semis. Like, whoa, dude!
I was totally shocked. I thought Stan had this in the bag. He was serving well and playing really smart in the super-windy conditions. But it sounds like the toll of his last two tough matches (4 setter over Moose, 5 setter over SamQ) finally set in. Sam got both his legs taped and was just a step too slow by the end.
But congrats to Misha. Right back at ya, baby.
K.I.T., Laura.
This is Laura Robson. She's my new bestie. Let's sidestep the fact that it's completely ridiculous and creepy for a 32 year-old to refer to a 16 year-old a "bestie". I don't like it when facts get in the way of my story.
With Sam winning on Sunday, I obviously stuck around a couple of extra days. So I was able to see Robbie's second round juniors match. It was fun, primarily because I was reminded of the stress of watching a loved one play when I spotted Mama Robson's carefully selected seating location:
I used to do the exact same thing at my sister's gymnastics meets. It must be love.
Anyway, Laura won. It was great seeing her on Grandstand because of the speed gun. I had no idea the kid could pop her serves in the 105-110mph range. Not bad for a 16 year old, no? Also, apparently Laura's up to 5'11'' now and she's still growing. As Maz pointed out, Andy better watch out. Laura's going to be able to put him in a headlock next time they play Hopman Cup. The kid wants her diamonds. You've failed her once. Don't fail her again.
After the match we caught up, you know, like besties do. I gave her the thumbs-up on the match and she asked me if I was going to see Sam. "Laura. Please." "Of course you're going to see Sam." Nice to know the kid TOTALLY READS FORTY DEUCE. Don't even try and front, Robbie.
After that it was off to see a bit of Genie Bouchard's doubles match. Genie is a promising junior out of Canada and according to Laura, the one who told her about FD and gave her the head's up that I'd be around on qualifying weekend. (Editor's note: LIAR!!!) So I figured I check out the match and at least say hello. It was a fun match to watch, with Genie's partner, Gabriela Dobrowski, knocking off a couple trick shots at the end.
After the match I introduced myself, told Genie that Laura had sent me over, and Genie denied that she was the one that sent Laura a link to the site. A summary of the Twitter conversation that ensued:
Laura: I'm so excited for you to meet @geniebouchard. BFFs for sure.
Me: So much pressure. Quite unfair of you, Robbie. I feel like I have to do a stand-up routine or something.
Laura: Just talk about Twilight. Done deal.
Me. Well now I'm courtside and quite sad that I don't have my Team Edward sign on me. The one day I don't pack it...
Me: Connection made. New besties. And @geniebouchard told me the truth. You, my friend, are a liar ;)
Genie: Haha! @laurarobson5 busted!
Genie: And @fortydeucetwits, Laura comes before me? I see how it is.
Me: Only because @laurarobson5 lied to me and threw you under the bus. The truth will set you free, Robbie...
Laura: God well this is awkward now. Thanks @geniebouchard. I don't think I can be part of this BFF trio anymore. #itisover
So there you go. Unfortunately both Laura and Genie lost in their next matches. So I consider my absence a jinx. It's my fault, ladies. I should have stuck around. I've learned my lesson and I apologize that you got caught in the collateral damage.
Hope Doesn't Float. It Sinks In Your Gut And Leaves You Depressed For Days.
It's been 48 hours since this match. In that 48 hours I got drunk, fought a hangover, endured what was the worst eight hour, two flight/one layover, coast-to-coast trek home, and a day of absolute lethargy. I've sat down to write this post three times, each time giving up after staring at a blank screen for 30 minutes.
All this is to say, this one is still smarting. And here's why.
I'm not an idiot. Or maybe I am, but I was under no illusions at 8:30pm on Tuesday night that Sam would win this match. Kim has been playing lights out, the wind was whipping around the grounds, and Sam was apparently wiped on Monday after her amazing match against Lena that ended at 1:30am Monday morning. She didn't hit the hay until 5am, woke up at 8:30am, and could barely make it out to the grounds for a 20 minute hit. Kim on the other hand has looked fantastic and to me, her movement and ability to turn defense to offense was going to make this a fairly easy straight set win.
And I was totally ok with that. This was an awesome run from Sammy, who bested her career finish here at the USO, made her second Slam QF of the year, and played, arguably, the best match of her career against Lena, which is saying something given her wins over Serena and Justine. No cause for complaints from this Sammy diehard.
But then they played the match. And despite the fact that neither player was playing their best, Sam got her chances. She was a break up in the first, only to lose the set. She was a break up in the second, only to get broken back, and then fought her way to even the match, taking the set 7-5. Even then though, I didn't think it was going to go Sam's way. I don't know, I just wasn't feeling it.
So the third set started. And Sam broke straight away. Holy crap! Ok...may--oh, no. She got broken back. But she broke again! ZOMG! This could totally happ--oh, no. She got broken back. Then she broke agaaaaaaaaaaaain! %^*@$#!^!!! ALL SHE HAS TO DO IS SERVE IT OU--- FUCKKKKKKKK!!!! She got broken back.
Sam had her chances and for whatever reason (fatigue, nerves) she just could not execute. She wouldn't hold for the entire third set. And it's not like Kim was playing all that well either. Sam broke herself.
We had snuck down to the middle level to sit near our "lucky seats" from Sunday night and thankfully, the people sitting around us totally covered for us when the usher came by. That was really nice of them. But as I left the stadium to the quizzical "You're not staying for Rafa?" questions and headed out of the stadium I was in quite the daze. I sat outside next to the fountains in the plaza to watch the Rafa match on the big screens. But I wasn't watching the screen. Sitting there I saw the StoBros and StoParents at the bar, having a drink, doing one last "Sammy Sammy Sammy! Oi! Oi! Oi!" cheer, and wandering the grounds singing some other Sammy songs. It was cute.
I caught myself staring off into the distance or into the fountain for minutes on end. It was so noticeable that some media friends (what up, Pete and Kevin), who were calling it a night, saw me as they were walking out and yelled "C Note! Don't do it! It's not worth it!" I don't know. It felt like it might have been worth it.
Part of it was the reality of the last four weeks finally crashing down on me. As I tweeted a few seconds after Sam lost, "It is finished." It's been a glorious run. A total dream for any tennis fan, to travel across the States by plane, train, and automobile, to see your favorite players play the game you love all the while meeting fantastic people along the way.
But part of it, admittedly and rather somewhat embarrassingly, had to do with the loss. Let's be clear: The result was exactly the one I expected. If I had been at home and gone to sleep and woken up to see the scoreline, I would have just shrugged it off. But Sam had her chances and there's absolutely no reason she shouldn't have at least forced Kim to take the match in that third set. As it was, it was a total chokejob. And I really don't know where it came from.
After the match, Kim said she had no idea how she won the match. She played like crap. As for Sam, she was rightfully bummed, even if the journos (bless them) were trying to cheer up and stay positive:
Look, I'm happy to make it to the quarters, by far my best result here. I'm gonna be disappointed about this one, I think. You can't break serve and have chance after chance after chance and blow it in a quarterfinal. It's just too big of an opportunity to kind of let go, and unfortunately that's what I did today.
...
I know Kim's a great player and a very tough opponent here. I mean, it wasn't the easiest match to win. But when you have chances like that, that's what's disappointing, not to kind of lose 'em on your own racquet. I don't think she really stepped up and hit, you know, 12 winners to break my serve three times in a row.
And on the difficulty of holding serve:
Um, oh, I think from the end against the wind it was very hard. I think we both definitely struggled from that end more than the other. So don't really know what excuse I can use to not hold serve with the wind unfortunately.
So yeah, this one will hurt for a while. Credit to her for not bailing on her Lacoste shoot, which took place the next morning. But I'm going to do my best to crawl out of Bummertown by tracking down a download of that Lena match and reveling in that moment of happiness until the Asian swing comes around in a few weeks.
Yeah, that'll do it. I think. I hope.
Oh, fuck. There's that "h" word again.
Tennis For Tolerance.
The first time I heard of the amazing dubs pairing of Bopanna/Qureshi was at Roland Garros. The two have had some solid on-court results together and now, after making the men's doubles final, are seeing some significant off-court results as well. Just this week, the U.N. ambassadors from Pakistan and India sat courtside, side by side, to watch them play.
It's a great story, and I know a lot of tennis fans, or, you know, peace fans, will be rooting hard for them on Friday. Sorry, BryBros. I know this win would be really big for you, but you have no idea how big it would be for them and, in turn, the world.
Want to read more about these two? Check out The Daily Forehand's interview with them from D.C. Great stuff.
Oh, sport. Sometimes? You're awesome.
September 07, 2010
Pic This: Stoic? Sam? Surely You Jest.
It's kind of funny when Sam doesn't wear her sunglasses. You actually get to see what the heck is going on behind them. And it's awesome.
This one's my new desktop background.
Because it made me choke on my Vitamin Water.
You're So Vain. You Probably Think This Post Is About You.
If you missed it, check out this set of photos from Vanity Fair with our favorite "under the radar" ATP and WTAers. I think they did a great job, Sveta's Ed Hardy shirt notwithstanding. And boy, Sam, talk about a corgi-in-the-headlights look.
Spain: So Fucking Greedy.
There are still five Spaniards into the Round of 16 (there were six but Montanes lost to Sod). Unfortunately, four of them have to play each other in the next round: Rafa vs. Feli, Fer vs. Daveed. Quit dominating all the sports, you swarthy sexy bastards. It's unfair to all the pasty ugly people who lose early in Grand Slams despite getting all the hype.
No, I'm not over it.
We Get It. You're Good At Tennis. Now Stop It.
It's 3:15am so I'm gonna make this quick. That was a hell of a win for Caro today. She took down the biggest scalp of her young career, dusting an in-form Masha in straight sets, and never really looking all that threatened while she was doing it. She defended well, served well, and was as aggressive as she needed to be to get Masha running and, more importantly, to get inside Masha's head.
You could almost see Caro cribbing from Kim's tactic against Ana:
I knew once I got out there that Ana is the type of player -- she's playing with a lot more confidence, and if I can stay with her in the beginning of those first few games where she was playing really good tennis, if I could just stay with her and kind of just, yeah, make her once in a while doubt a little bit. Or just, you know, even when she's playing her best tennis, trying to retrieve a lot of balls and just try to get her to make the mistake, I really felt that was the case in the first five games we played today.
She starts making a few little unforced errors and a couple of double faults. I really tried to use the chances that I had, and that's what I did really well.
Yup, pretty much. The kid went out there and absolutely won this match. She's ready for Primetime.
I'm going to need more time to ruminate on what I think this loss means for Masha. I know it means something. It's not just a random blip that you just dismiss. But I need to tumble with it for a bit.
So let's keep the focus on the kid. Look, I don't think I'll ever be a fan. And that's not you, Caro. It's me. I just don't like your brand of tennis even though I absolutely recognize, particularly after seeing all the improvements in your game which have been on display over the past few weeks, that it is an excellent brand of tennis. You're consistent, you do everything well, you've developed just enough pop on some of your shots to make yourself more than a "pusher", and you're just getting better with each year, and you're mentally strong. On top of all that, you're a perfectly nice kid, a good personality for the sport, and you seem to have your head on straight. Good on your parents, Piotr and Anna, for raising such a sweet kid.
But at the end of the day, I like Coke, not Pepsi. I like Budweiser, not MGD. I like BMW, not Mercedes. I like...other tennis players, not you.
It's nothing personal. It's just a preference.
Now go out there and make the final, hopefully against Kim, and let's see what you can do. You finally have our attention. Do with it what you will.
September 06, 2010
Pic This: Bepa Won.
It's always something. And that's why we love you.
The Drama That Wasn't.
Sorry I haven't blogged in a few days. But my energy and attendance at the USO has been a bit on the spotty side so here's my attempt to catch up.
As you may have noticed if you follow me on Twitter (seriously, it's the easiest way to keep track of me and my tourettes-like musings), the schedule of play is stacked so that almost all of my favorites play on the same day. For example, Ana and Sam, both in the same part of the draw, are always a double header. Which makes it so that I'm really excited one day and kinda bored the next.
With that in mind, I took Day 4 off and just hung out in and around my hotel, catching up on some reading, doing some errands, and hanging out with friends. It was a much needed respite. If you want to catch the full day's action you're pretty much up at 8am, out the door by 9:30 and on the grounds at 10:30am through midnight, and getting home around 1am. When you throw in an uncontrollable urge to tell people what happened that day (i.e., blog) then you're really not getting much sleep at all. Do that day after day after day and...yeah, you need to recharge.
So yeah, I didn't go on Thursday. Which was fine because nothing major happened, though I would have liked to have seen that Petko vs. Bethanie match.
But Friday was going to be a big day. Ana, Sam, Andy, and Rafa were all on tap, with Ana and Sam scheduled to have some potentially tricky opponents. On top of that there was the stress of a potential hurricane, which is totally a new thing for me as I have never actually been in or around a hurricane. So seriously, I was kinda stressed.
Sam was up first against Errani, who she played last week in New Haven and had to save four match points against (hmmm...sounds familiar) to win.
But it was all good. Sam won easily in straight sets and it was super fun to watch. As always.
And with that, Sam was into the fourth round. Whee!
After that I had some time to kill, so I got a little bit of food and drinky drink. Thankfully I arrived back to Armstrong just in time to see that fanny pack. There are no words.
Then it was Ana Time. I saw alongside NYAnafan, who I met a few years ago at Indian Wells. Quite nice to be on her turf this time to watch our favorite player go at it.
Just a really amazing match against Razzano, who had just beaten Marion in the prior round. The first set was fairly tight, with Ana getting frustrated with her inability to get the ball through the court. Mind you, it was a bit gusty.
But then those guys in the white caps arrived. And they were cheering WILDLY for Ana. And I got worried that they would freak her out.
But they didn't, and she totally got her focus back to take the first set. It was kinda funny. After she won and shook hands at the net, she came out to do her crowd salute, and immediately took off her wristbands to throw to them. For a split second I was scared she was going to just start stripping.
Team Ivanovic in the hizzee. I was hanging out by the media center/practice courts/Heineken bar (seriously, it's the best area to chill out) and I saw Dragana walking out of the media center. She stopped to rustle through her bag to find something (my immediate thought -- "Is there a latte in there?"), clearly found it, and walked out of the gate. As I had been drinking vodka for two hours, I compulsively yelled out "Good luck to Ana today!". She stopped, she turned, I screamed (in my head), she smiled, and said "Thank you" in the *exact* same way Ana does. I smiled and then started giggling to myself as she turned to walk away. It was awesome.
From there I had more to drink as I wandered to the grounds. And low and behold I saw Hannah Storm drunkenly hitting on my boyfriend, who looked absolutely cuddly in his Adidas hoodie. Step off, Hannah. Not only can I properly pronounce player names and speak about tennis intelligently, I also have a knife. And trust, I know how to use it.
I didn't have a night session pass and I was EXHAUSTED by the time the sun came down, so I headed home. The hurricane never came, thankfully, and everyone I loved won. So I was all gravy.
September 02, 2010
"Janko, Janko, Janko! Oi Oi Oi!"
What a night on Ashe. I wasn't even supposed to be there. I didn't have a ticket to the night session but lucked into one thanks to some friends. So there we were, up in Section 309, row O (translation, high up in the upper deck) drinking beer and occasionally cheering on Tipsy, who I'm not sure we had much faith in.
But then shit got real. And the scattered shouts of "Ajde, Tipsy!" became hoarse roars, which somehow morphed into a "Janko, Janko, Janko! Oi Oi Oi!" cheer, because we obviously didn't get it out of our system at Sam's match. We got a lot of annoyed looks and by the time the fourth set came around, there was no one sitting in the four rows in front of us. Whoops!
But the cheers worked. Or so I like to think they did. The ATP noticed. And apparently J-Mac noticed. The five of us up in the rafters were apparently making quite a ruckus. In response to our cheers, the Andy fans came up with "Finish him!" when Andy was down 2 sets to 1, which...doesn't make sense, and they started cheering for Janko's UFEs and unforced errors. Tit for Tat, I guess.
But in the end, the Tat won. And we celebrated with an "Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, Janko, Janko," cheer.
Look, I didn't say we weren't obnoxious. I'm just saying we were excited and well within the rules. If anyone should be pissed it should be the 23,000 Andy fans who sat on their hands all night and got outyelled by five people. As we were walking out this girls hot us an annoyed look and asked if we were all Serbian. To which I of course responded, with my obvious wit and charm, "No, but that doesn't mean I can't root for Serbs. And I can't stand Andy Roddick." Surprisingly, this did not seem to satisfy her.
As for A-Rod's foot fault meltdown, I honestly don't care. I mean, how can anyone who follows tennis be surprised by his on court behavior anymore? The guy is absolutely incapable of seeing the big picture. So what if it took Sod a bit of time to call a challenge? Let's just make sure the call was right. So what if the linesperson's explanation for your foot fault was unsatisfactory? You still did it!
I'm a bit tired of everyone trying to defend him. The bottom line is that it's unacceptable behavior and it's unfitting of a guy who tries to put himself out there as a sportsman. If Novak acted that way he'd be crucified. Muzzard? Same. Roger? Same. But somehow because A-Rod's such a dude and American journos love him he gets a free pass? Bullshit.
I've tried with Andy. He has his charming moments. But no other top player lashes out the way that he does on court. It's just flat out ugly. Thankfully we were so high up in the stands that we could only laugh. He looked ridiculous.
September 01, 2010
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy! Oi Oi Oi!"
Court scheduling is a funny thing. As TV viewers we get all pissy when our favorite players aren't on the bigger show courts. But as a tournament attendee, I get really excited when I see big names on the outer courts. That means I can sit courtside and actually see the players I love. This was the case with Sam, who was scheduled to play on Court 11, which is one of the larger outer courts but with limited restrictions on where you can sit. We were fourth row behind the umpire. And it was a great spot to see Sammy rock her new purple kit, which I must say, looked surprisingly great.
Sam was pretty much in control throughout the match, which helped dissipate my concern over her arm, which was taped up during her practice earlier in the day. I stuck to my "C'mon, Sammy!" and "Let's go Hammer!" cheers, but it was fun to hear StoBros and Co. do their "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy! Oi Oi Oi! Sammy, Oi! Sammy, Oi! Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, Oi Oi Oi!" cheer, which actually made Sam smirk a bit on court. Rodionova was in typical form, popping off to Lynn on line calls (no Hawkeye) and taking a ridiculous amount of time between a few points.
Personally, I'm still worried about that arm. She was stretching it quite a bit while waiting to do her Aussie TV interview after the match. But whatever. All I wanted from Sam was to get a career best result here, which she's done with her win over Rodionova. She's into the third round and she'll get a crack at Errani, who she beat in rather dramatic fashion last week in New Haven.
Go get it, Hammer. See at Starbucks in the morning. Hopefully this time I won't be in my pajamas.
Pic This: Fernando. Because People Seem To Like Him.
Finally saw Fernando practice today. And really, the only reason I saw him is because Sam was practicing next to him. So again, thank Sam.
And Daveed, actually. Even Team Stosur had to stop and watch some shirtless Spanish action. They were actually quite riveted, particularly by Daveed's footie skills.
Thankfully, Fernando was shirtless.
Not so thankfully, he was rocking a samurai look. Blech.
But it's not like I was looking at the hair anyway, so I guess it works out.
Pic This: Around The Grounds on Day 2
It was a toasty one today in NYC. I know this because Aunt Pimmy told me so. Also because I finally ditched the jeans and t-shirt look and went with shorts and a tanktop. A wise move, I think. But between the heat, the crowds, and the size of the grounds, I've come to realize that you have to really want it to win it here at the USO, and I don't mean the players.
Typically when I go to a tournament I like to just wander the grounds and pop in to see whatever match tickles my fancy, or I'll stick around the practice courts to watch random players. Not so here in NYC. Nope, there better be a damn good reason for me to haul my ass out of the somewhat tolerable shade and stand/sit in the sun for the better part of an hour. Even today, I could barely get it up to stick around to watch Sveta, MaKiri, FeVer, or Elena for anything more than five minutes. To the extent I have pictures of any players or matches it is a reflection of my love for them. I thought I was going to go blind when Nole, Sam, and Dani were practicing, what with the Iguacu Falls-like deluge of sweat that was running into my eyes. At one point I looked down and realized sweat was just running down my legs. Which could have been weird if anyone who knows me, knows FD, and knows my love of all things Corgi had seen me.
IT WAS SWEAT! I PROMISE!
There is no wandering here at the USO. If you wander, you must do so with intent. And a lot of water. And sunscreen. And...patience.
Mikey Llodes and son.
Stop making this awkward, Sam. Just. Ignore. Me.
Dani and Elena. Underachieving. As per yoosh.
Mama Vera shagging balls.
Vika and Sergei Bubka Jr., who, according to Boyfriend Jon, is her man friend. No word on how long his pole is.
Team Venus taking the far practice court.
Happy Vera. I know. It's weird.
Oh, hai, Eva. You kept me thoroughly entertained all evening and for that, I thank you.
Really, Nadia? Really? Did someone eat a bowl full of Skittles, pound a huge Icee, and then puke on your dress? Oh, they did? Ok, well then I feel a little bad now.
Just Dance.
I honestly didn't think it was going to happen. Not after she won the first set, most definitely not after she lost the second set, and absolutely not after she went into a third set tiebreak. I mean, I know better than to hope. And with Petko's pattern of finding heartbreaking ways to lose big matches, I was prepared for the worst.
But it did happen! And it was great! And I thought at one point Nadia might kill me! We were sitting courtside and during the third set I guess Nadia heard someone say something and it got her all pissy. She looked over in our general direction (we were sitting two sections over from Petko's camp) and said "Who said that? No respect." Uh...I was just yelling "Ajde", "Komm jetzt", and "C'mon Andrea" all match. Pretty sure that wasn't directed at me. If she wants to be mad at somebody, talk to the dude in dreads sitting up at the top of the stadium who kept yelling "Nadiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" throughout the match.
And then, to top it all off, after she loses, Nadia packs up all her shit, is about to sling her bag over her shoulder, stops, opens up the bag, PULLS OUT A RACQUET, and then grabs her bag and walks off court, racquet in hand. I mean...huh? Look, dude, I'm sorry you were in a pissy mood because you had to wear that piece of ugly onto the court. But let's dial it down, huh?
Whatever. Huge congratulations to Petkorazzi who finally scored a win in a tight match on a big stage, scoring the biggest upset in the first round of the women's side. She deserves this. She works so hard and she's a fantastically nice person to boot. She hey-heyed me after the match after I yelled "We love you Petkorazzi!!!" It totally made my day.
