Barbarians at the Gate
Since I promised my friend I’d write something this weekend, I thought I’d do one of my rare and wondrous updates of this blog. So what’s on my mind? The ebb and flow of fame and fortune. Case in point: Roger Federer and Raphael Nadal. Roger, for those who don’t follow tennis, is the number one player in the world, and is presented in the press as the cordial, polite Swiss who is calm, cool and collected on and off the court. After losing to his closest rival Raphael Nadal in Monte Carlo for the 3rd straight time, he made the remark that he thought he was getting closer to beating Rafa on clay, and that he didn’t think Nadal was better than him on the surface. He also unveiled his thoughts prior to the match pointing out that Nadal’s game was one dimensional. He consequently got his butt kicked in the final- albeit an extended butt kicking that lasted over 4 hours in which Roger was 2 points from forcing a 5th set . The interesting thing wasn’t that Roger lost to the Vamos machine but the fallout afterward. Suddenly Roger was being described as being ungracious, delusional, and having a serious mental block. One columnist, poison pen at the ready, declared Nadal the best player in the world -oddly ignoring the almost 3000 point difference between Roger’s and Raphael’s ranking -and taking potshots at Roger’s physical appearance. Hairy? Toothless grin? I don't think so. On some of the more unmoderated boards..ESPN .. tennis fans with their own axe to grind, gleefully pointed out that all of Federer’s previous niceness was a big facade and that he’s really an arrogant pr*ck. Nadal, on the other hand, is humble and sweet and represents good against the evil overlord . Indeed, Raffy never talks up his chances-almost going absurdly the other way proclaiming himself the underdog-but brutally bashes the opposition with vamo’s and scissor kicks until all that’s left is their carcass to be dragged off with a yipee ki ay motherf*cker. He’s also not above gamesmanship when not clenching those oversized biceps.. This was evidenced in the final when as soon as Fed went up a break or started to turn the momentum his way, Rafa would stop the match to wrap his finger-one can imagine which one- fatally disrupting Roger's rhythm. He also benefited from some nifty coaching from his uncle Tony on the sidelines . While Fed does it the old fashioned way, figuring it out himself on the court, Nadal looks to his over-exuberant relative to get tips when things need a little shove in the right direction. But such is life. Beauty and the Beast.. Next meeting, Rome. On clay. Of course.