Welcome to the first edition of my 2010 French Open running diary.
You could also call it, how many cynical comments, pointless observations and utter dribble can I write in 2 weeks.
You’d be surprised.
My one rule for the diary - I will only comment on what I see.
You know what, I don’t even believe myself there so why don’t we just scrap that rule
and go with anything flies, nobody is safe and I’ll probably only comment on
what I see as my ground rules.
At 5pm Singapore time, things kick off with an awesome montage that gives my
goosebumps goosebumps and makes me feel like I could run through the Atlantic
Wall. Or is that the three glasses of wine I’ve just drunk starting to take
Fred Stolle, the tennis commentary version of Mr Byrnes, is joined in the booth by
the hottest WTA Tour player from my youth, Sabine Applemans. If this were a
resort massage room, then Fred would’ve just asked Sabine, “how much extra for the
For the rest, please go to www.noworriestennis.com