I didn’t blog when Agassi bawled and whined like a little byatch. He was a great player, but I think he might have overstayed his welcome and his back knew it before he did.
I didn’t blog when Flushing Meadows was aflush with rain.
I didn’t blog when we all cracked up over all the new commercials.
I didn’t blog when my little Belgian Fry lost to the Sequined Siberian– she of the loud yelp.
I didn’t blog when Andy Roddick beat out all of his other opponents.
Or when Federer beat his.
Now, deep into the third set of the US Open final– this is when I blog.
If you’ve been reading for a while, you might know that I think Federer is an amazing tennis player— not that I *need* to think he is an excellent player, because the record alone speaks for itself.
But I think that his play is really…. otherworldly.
And then there is little bird-faced cutie, Andy Roddick. He of the close-set eyes and the funny commercials.
Andy Roddick–The ‘Dick, the underdog of today, versus, let’s just be honest here, someone who could give God a run for his money on grass but not on clay (we’ll let Rafael Nadal try to beat God there).
So as much as I have this pit-of-the-stomach feeling that Federer might win this (again), I am out-loud, lould-clapping, hollery-shouting, DUDE-WHAT-THE-HELL-IS-YOUR-PROBLEM rooting like crazy for Roddick.
BREAK THAT SERVE! GET HIM CLOSE TO THE NET! YOU’RE ANDY-FRIGGIN’-RODDICK AND YOU’VE WON THIS THING BEFORE!
In a way, the longer Roddick frustrates Federer and keeps the deuces going –even if he ultimately loses– the better a game this is. And not just that, but there is a feeling that even the greatest can be unseated and the best can take a back seat to the underdogs.
And for one day, it’s okay to root for someone but to realize that this is one of those happy occasions in life where we are all just rooting for a good game.