Tennischick's Articles – August 2009 Archive (6)

“Strokes of Genius” opens with a reference to pigeon shit. Apparently pigeons used to shit all over Centre Court at Wimbledon. So in 2008, the All England Club enlisted the services of a hawk to slaughter the pigeons and thereby get rid of the pooping problem. Wertheim introduces this as an analogy to the match between Rafa and Rogi. I assumed that Rafa was the hawk and Rogi the shitting pigeon. I took immediate offense.



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I showed up an hour early. In my excitement about playing tennis, I misread the announcement and thought that we were meeting at 6pm. In fact, the meet-up was posted for 7pm. The sun was still brutally hot. The public courts were filling up fast. I stood there for a while wondering where everyone was.



Most of the courts were occupied by men. There was a smattering of women. A woman and a young girl who seemed to be her daughter struggled to hit the ball, the mother’s returns going… Continue

...I found myself derailed by the bizarre view of courtside coaching in which the coach is attached to a microphone so that the TV audience can hear his every word. And what I saw in Maria Sharapova was a player who seemed utterly humiliated by the experience.



The humiliation started yesterday in the match against Kleybanova. The coach mentioned to Maria that he knew that her arm was tired but that he wanted to hit more slice serves down the line. She interrupted him snappily to… Continue

When Pete Sampras retired in 2002, after spanking Agassi for the umpteenth time, he gave the impression that he was done with tennis. In interviews he indicated that his career was over. He was going to turn into a homebody, taking care of his wife and helping her to pop out some kids. As evidence that he was done for good, his training team packed up and found other jobs, most famously Paul Annacone who found a lead job with the Lawn Tennis Association.



I can’t honestly say that I… Continue

Apologies for not writing. I have been in obsessive mode. I’ve spent the last two weeks obsessing about everything to do with the US Open. It’s my annual torment. Although to be honest it also gives me pleasure, so much so that I have concluded that there is a part of me that simply loves to obsess. I must get off on dithering.



First I looked into purchasing a mini-plan. You know, one of those Labor Day weekend deals that include tickets and hotel. The lowest priced I found cost… Continue

...I was stunned by the way the commentators were crying down Dr. Bartoli yesterday. Not because I disagreed with what they were saying -- au contraire -- but because one so rarely expects such a high level of honesty from ESPN-hired commentators covering a match.



But those commentators held nothing back. One described her horror at watching Dr. Bartoli put his daughter through the paces of warming up for a match. It sounded almost as if Marion burns up so much energy in the bizarre… Continue