england is still the only place i know where any young man can grow up to be the queen.
whoever was on espn yesterday at around four-thirty p.m. talking about sunday's federer-agassi final were idiots who i'm pretty sure never even saw the match. that's the only reason i can come up with for mocking andre agassi for moving like an old man and needing a nap in the middle of the second set, because if they'd actually seen him play they would have seen how quick and fluid his movement was, how he was playing some of the best and cleanest tennis of his life to date. the thing is, agassi was playing some of the best tennis of his life and still, still, federer rose up in the third-set tie-break and annihilated him.
my mother was in the kitchen while i was watching the match, and she mentioned that i was, you know, loud. i get into it! i'm pretty sure i freaked out roommate n. last january during the safin-federer semifinal at the australian open. it's just. federer hits the ball differently than anyone else i've seen, longer strokes somehow, or softer, when his forehand is one of the fastest in the world. the ball looks smaller as it comes off his racket, and you never see him move, he's just there all of a sudden, ending the point with a winner you didn't even know was possible. mary carillo says she's never met a champion like him, says he somehow manipulates time: the man is never rushed. no one has a bad word to say about him.
everyone who says federer's game has no weaknesses obviously didn't see him blow every forehand volley he tried to hit, and weren't listening to johnny mac point them out each and every time (other things sports commentators are good at pointing out? turns out andre agassi is thirty-five, if you missed it the first forty million times they mentioned it). when he tightens up his net game, then he'll have no weaknesses, heh. or close enough. i'm still thrilled just to be alive and watching him right now.
other things i am thrilled to be alive and watching, though not on the same historical level:
new house tonight whoo! let me just say first that i was watching with my *dad* and just about died when house told chase he was sending him to talk to prison inmates because he had a pretty mouth.
i dunno, it seemed like business-as-usual at princeton-plainsborough tonight: house said outrageous and outrageously funny things; house took the moral stance that most directly opposed the most people; house got drunk on top of his vicodin; house was ultimately right every single time. cameron needs to, i don't know, take holy orders and administer to the dying millions in india and africa. there she could have a steady dose of the heartbreak she's so obviously drawn to. i really liked wilson here, both with cameron and with house. as someone who often has to tell people they're dying, who is so good at it that people thank him for it, he must have both a deep wellspring of compassion and some kind of defense system against it to keep himself reasonably sane. i love that house listens to him.
chase and foreman get a-pluses, as does stacy, as do eighth-amendment rights. but could they not have played the "hallelujah" card? come on.
house is a detective with a medical degree. he sees the world in pieces and instinctively, obsessively, puts the pieces together. the easiest, most natural au for him is the '40s film-noir private eye: he already broods, drinks, plays the piano, limps, and has a chip on his shoulder for the entire human race. substitute polio or a riding accident for the infarction and a morphine addiction for the vicodin, give him a fedora and a pack of cigarettes, and you're in business.
meinnim heard about the similarities some peopleincluding myselfhave drawn between house and rodney mckay, and was amused by them, calling for a crossover where mckay calls medicine "voodoo" and, you know, wackiness and EPIC SNARK ensue. ciderpress once called the members of john's team (excepting ford, pre-siege iii) "bizarrely, voluntarily ostracized" from their social groups, and that's, like, the definition of house's standing in the community. house is the most curious man on the planet (self-described), he has one thing ("dnr"), he's obsessed with finding out and knowing, according to himself and everyone with whom he crosses paths. rodney's drive to know is less explicit and less explored (it's not his show, exclusively), but it came to the fore in "trinity", when he needed to find out what happened to collins, not only so he could prevent it from happening again (and god, the way his voice breaks when he says he'll have to live with collins's death for the rest of his life), but just so he could know. on some level, the knowing itself would be the solution and the cure.
both house and rodney chose their talents and brains and themselves over other people; they don't like people very much, people slow them down. i'm not saying they're twins separated at birthrodney is largely oblivious to people, where house is acutely, painfully dialled in to *everything* around him; rodney is insecure and impatient, where house is angry and bitter and actively antagonistic; etc., etc.but they're both constantly working the "out of my way, bitch! genius at work!" thing.
my mother was in the kitchen while i was watching the match, and she mentioned that i was, you know, loud. i get into it! i'm pretty sure i freaked out roommate n. last january during the safin-federer semifinal at the australian open. it's just. federer hits the ball differently than anyone else i've seen, longer strokes somehow, or softer, when his forehand is one of the fastest in the world. the ball looks smaller as it comes off his racket, and you never see him move, he's just there all of a sudden, ending the point with a winner you didn't even know was possible. mary carillo says she's never met a champion like him, says he somehow manipulates time: the man is never rushed. no one has a bad word to say about him.
everyone who says federer's game has no weaknesses obviously didn't see him blow every forehand volley he tried to hit, and weren't listening to johnny mac point them out each and every time (other things sports commentators are good at pointing out? turns out andre agassi is thirty-five, if you missed it the first forty million times they mentioned it). when he tightens up his net game, then he'll have no weaknesses, heh. or close enough. i'm still thrilled just to be alive and watching him right now.
other things i am thrilled to be alive and watching, though not on the same historical level:
new house tonight whoo! let me just say first that i was watching with my *dad* and just about died when house told chase he was sending him to talk to prison inmates because he had a pretty mouth.
i dunno, it seemed like business-as-usual at princeton-plainsborough tonight: house said outrageous and outrageously funny things; house took the moral stance that most directly opposed the most people; house got drunk on top of his vicodin; house was ultimately right every single time. cameron needs to, i don't know, take holy orders and administer to the dying millions in india and africa. there she could have a steady dose of the heartbreak she's so obviously drawn to. i really liked wilson here, both with cameron and with house. as someone who often has to tell people they're dying, who is so good at it that people thank him for it, he must have both a deep wellspring of compassion and some kind of defense system against it to keep himself reasonably sane. i love that house listens to him.
chase and foreman get a-pluses, as does stacy, as do eighth-amendment rights. but could they not have played the "hallelujah" card? come on.
house is a detective with a medical degree. he sees the world in pieces and instinctively, obsessively, puts the pieces together. the easiest, most natural au for him is the '40s film-noir private eye: he already broods, drinks, plays the piano, limps, and has a chip on his shoulder for the entire human race. substitute polio or a riding accident for the infarction and a morphine addiction for the vicodin, give him a fedora and a pack of cigarettes, and you're in business.
meinnim heard about the similarities some peopleincluding myselfhave drawn between house and rodney mckay, and was amused by them, calling for a crossover where mckay calls medicine "voodoo" and, you know, wackiness and EPIC SNARK ensue. ciderpress once called the members of john's team (excepting ford, pre-siege iii) "bizarrely, voluntarily ostracized" from their social groups, and that's, like, the definition of house's standing in the community. house is the most curious man on the planet (self-described), he has one thing ("dnr"), he's obsessed with finding out and knowing, according to himself and everyone with whom he crosses paths. rodney's drive to know is less explicit and less explored (it's not his show, exclusively), but it came to the fore in "trinity", when he needed to find out what happened to collins, not only so he could prevent it from happening again (and god, the way his voice breaks when he says he'll have to live with collins's death for the rest of his life), but just so he could know. on some level, the knowing itself would be the solution and the cure.
both house and rodney chose their talents and brains and themselves over other people; they don't like people very much, people slow them down. i'm not saying they're twins separated at birthrodney is largely oblivious to people, where house is acutely, painfully dialled in to *everything* around him; rodney is insecure and impatient, where house is angry and bitter and actively antagonistic; etc., etc.but they're both constantly working the "out of my way, bitch! genius at work!" thing.