This Week In Balls: The Love That Loves
Welcome! We’ve got a new sports column for you! After the jump, Michael Fichman gets sporting on your ass.
THIS WEEK:
TENNIS!
Tennis is a sport ripe for ironic revival. Why? I can think of several reasons. First and foremost, since Luke Wilson dropped the bomb, motherfuckers have been dying for a chance to dress a chance to dress anachronistically in white shorts with pockets and a belt. This would also mean copping a whole bunch of Lacoste gear (not just for French B-boys anymore!). You could fight dudes who rep Polo. Bonus. Second, it requires very little group coordination, a major plus. Third, it’s bougier than buying a rehab in Fishtown but not quite as bougie as a dog you can put in a handbag, if that fits your hipster-cum-yuppie fop comfort level. So it’s probably best to raise your tennis accumen ASAP before you go buy a racquet (with a Q) and a headband. Wimbledon starts tonight, do the knowledge:
Wimbledon is the ultimate tennis tournament and the penultimate summer sporting tradition, second only to inappropriately removing one’s shirt in public and challenging people to fights. It’s also a time to observe Euros acting casually in their natural environment, unironically wearing brightly colored clam-digger pants and behaving in a vaguely homo-erotic fashion (getting American girls wet/making Bob Costas uncomfortable in the process). Of course, I’m obliquely referring to French Open champ, the Spañiard Rafael Nadal.
The man knows his trance music, and and his trance pants
Nadal is famous for his rivalry with the Swiss Roger Federer, who is both a deadly technician on the court and a heinously ugly foil (see below). Federer is dominant on every surface but clay, and this year was chased off the clay at the French Open by Nadal for the second straight year. Wimbledon is played on grass (and best enjoyed that way), and turf-o-phile Federer has won four straight Wimbledons. The French is the only Grand Slam he has yet to win. In short, Federer is a fucking monster. Look for Nadal and Federer to collide in the finals.
Here, Roger Federer gives up “not sucking” for lent.
But let’s not forget about the ladies. Tennis is one of the few sports where the women garner as much attention as the men. Not coincidentally, the women’s pro circuit is crowded with Russian masturbation fantasy objects for 16 year-olds (see Kournikova, Sharapova) and catsuit-wearing superheroines (see: The Williams Sisters). Women’s tennis also often features great daytime drama and reminders that Interpol is not JUST a band, like when that German guy stabbed Monica Seles. Tennis is also one of the few sports where the women often (as of recently) get prize money on par with men. Hello catsuit, goodbye glass ceiling? Fuck “ironic,” I’m talking REAL irony here!
What? She PLAYS the sport.
So before you roll down to FDR to swing the John McEnroe, calling dudes “duece” and shit like that, get your Wimbledon on. Only then can you hit up the spot… so I can smash you, politely and stylishly.
Michael Fichman is a writer and DJ living in Philadelphia. He also blogs at Just Sayin’.
