walkingshadow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
walkingshadow) wrote2005-01-31 04:04 am
walkingshadow) wrote2005-01-31 04:04 am
My kingdom for an intelligent octopus!
I caught the last half of the Australian Open Men's Final this afternoon; basically I was in good time to watch Safin blow Hewitt off the court and break Australia's heart. Sorry, Australia! But I've personally never much cared for Hewitt, and I didn't really think he stood a chance if Safin was on his game—which he was.
I thought the other day as I watched Safin and Federer battle it out that this could be a rivalry I could get behind. Someone to challenge Federer and keep him honest, give him reason to improve his game to the level he thinks he needs to be operating at, and give us all some really, really good shows. I love watching people who play smart tennis; I love finesse games, I love one-handed backhands, slice, and drop-shots, short balls and volleys and sharp angles, good placement, surprises. My favorite player on the women's side was Martina Hingis, who played tennis as if it were chess, and I'm still disappointed she chose to retire from the game instead of beefing up, improving her serve, and taking it to the Williams sisters. I never got much out of watching the Williams sisters play (or Andy Roddick or Kim Clijsters)—all power shots and hard, flat balls from the baseline. Safin's hugely powerful, from both sides off the ground and his monster serve, but he's also a thinker, and he comes up with different things, pretty things, athletic feats. And on the other side is Federer, who is brilliant and has been dubbed the Swiss Magician, and they have this obvious mutual admiration and respect for each other; so if Safin has finally got his head together, what a great ride tennis is in for.
(Is this the time to mention that the other day during the Federer-Safin semifinal, Dick Enberg was expositing that Safin had wanted to be a soccer player, but his mother was a tennis coach and said "no, my son, it is tennis you will play because they won't love you like I love you" and then I of course remembered that hey! Federer was almost a soccer player too! and then in my head I got the most vivid image of them playing together, all quick, soft feet and chests bumping as they slid the ball away from each other, grinning but still competing, and then they had incredibly athletic sex? I never know when the time is right for that sort of thing.)
And now I won't be talking about tennis for another six months, because it just sort of goes away for me between the Slams. Maybe this year I'll haunt ESPN and keep track of what everyone's up to.
I got, seriously, nothing accomplished today. (In an unrelated story, I am hip-deep in THE ARCHER discussions; any time anyone wants to join in is always a good time.) Tomorrow's to-do list is formidable and includes (but is not limited to) 1) laundry, 2) talking to someone re: the god-forsaken thesis, 3) wishing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
malelia_honu A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, 4) putting things in the mail (to the aforementioned birthday girl and to cousin M.), 5) contacting a Hare Krishna about trailing after them and taking pictures of their life, 6) going to class (how did that get on there?), 7) going to the gym, and 8) if all does not go well with the god-forsaken thesis, I will email the professor of the Tao of Star Trek class (remember that one?) to see about stuffing me in over the cap and, like, three weeks into the semester. But it only meets once a week, there aren't any tests, and the grades are a series of take-home essays that I should be able to make up, even if I have to watch the material on my own.
There's no food in my house, but errands won't get run until at least Tuesday, so. I hear this town delivers.
I thought the other day as I watched Safin and Federer battle it out that this could be a rivalry I could get behind. Someone to challenge Federer and keep him honest, give him reason to improve his game to the level he thinks he needs to be operating at, and give us all some really, really good shows. I love watching people who play smart tennis; I love finesse games, I love one-handed backhands, slice, and drop-shots, short balls and volleys and sharp angles, good placement, surprises. My favorite player on the women's side was Martina Hingis, who played tennis as if it were chess, and I'm still disappointed she chose to retire from the game instead of beefing up, improving her serve, and taking it to the Williams sisters. I never got much out of watching the Williams sisters play (or Andy Roddick or Kim Clijsters)—all power shots and hard, flat balls from the baseline. Safin's hugely powerful, from both sides off the ground and his monster serve, but he's also a thinker, and he comes up with different things, pretty things, athletic feats. And on the other side is Federer, who is brilliant and has been dubbed the Swiss Magician, and they have this obvious mutual admiration and respect for each other; so if Safin has finally got his head together, what a great ride tennis is in for.
(Is this the time to mention that the other day during the Federer-Safin semifinal, Dick Enberg was expositing that Safin had wanted to be a soccer player, but his mother was a tennis coach and said "no, my son, it is tennis you will play because they won't love you like I love you" and then I of course remembered that hey! Federer was almost a soccer player too! and then in my head I got the most vivid image of them playing together, all quick, soft feet and chests bumping as they slid the ball away from each other, grinning but still competing, and then they had incredibly athletic sex? I never know when the time is right for that sort of thing.)
And now I won't be talking about tennis for another six months, because it just sort of goes away for me between the Slams. Maybe this year I'll haunt ESPN and keep track of what everyone's up to.
I got, seriously, nothing accomplished today. (In an unrelated story, I am hip-deep in THE ARCHER discussions; any time anyone wants to join in is always a good time.) Tomorrow's to-do list is formidable and includes (but is not limited to) 1) laundry, 2) talking to someone re: the god-forsaken thesis, 3) wishing
malelia_honu A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, 4) putting things in the mail (to the aforementioned birthday girl and to cousin M.), 5) contacting a Hare Krishna about trailing after them and taking pictures of their life, 6) going to class (how did that get on there?), 7) going to the gym, and 8) if all does not go well with the god-forsaken thesis, I will email the professor of the Tao of Star Trek class (remember that one?) to see about stuffing me in over the cap and, like, three weeks into the semester. But it only meets once a week, there aren't any tests, and the grades are a series of take-home essays that I should be able to make up, even if I have to watch the material on my own.There's no food in my house, but errands won't get run until at least Tuesday, so. I hear this town delivers.
no subject
*displays angry!bruce icon to convey her ire* or, you know, something.
no subject
I will be online . . . later. I've just managed to drag myself out of bed and am looking to do thing one on the to-do list. Oy. MONDAY.
(Your icon is beautiful when it's angry.)
wheeeee!!!
I just got home from Sebastian where I was flying blissfully through the air. My super-cool dad and I decided to skydive for our birthday outing this year! I should be getting a DVD along with some stills in the mail soon, so I'll put up a big long entry with photos at that point. I'm home and alive, so you can breathe regularly and all that jazz. I'm looking forward to my package of scarfaliciousness... talk to you soon!
Re: wheeeee!!!