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king rog

On an overcast, rainy Sunday after a too-beautiful-for-words Fourth of July, there was simply nothing else to do but sit around the television and watch a four hour Wimbledon final.  Based on comments and phone calls from friends, we were not alone in this activity.

My husband, as you may know, has had a severe crush on Roger Federer for years now and almost had to retreat to the kitchen during the fifth set.  As Roger Cohen said in the New York Times today, “People develop Federer obsessions the way teenagers have crushes. They can’t get the guy out of their heads.”  And W. was grateful to Federer for winning on Sunday so that the GOAT talk can cease.  Now Fed is freed up to gain 20 pounds in sympathy weight for his poor preggo wife Mirka on whom the stress of watching that marathon match cannot possibly have been a good thing.

Cohen’s editorial in the NY Times, however, got to a point about Federer that has long troubled me.  If, as it was for Andre Agassi, image iseverything, what does mean for the likes of Federer?  He has perfected his image with his crisply tailored synthetic tennis shorts and his tendril of hair that gracefully falls over his headband without ever daring to obscure the Nike swoosh.  For Federer, this perfection of image mirrorshis elegant game or perhaps his beautiful game necessitated Federer refining his image.  For the rest of us schlubs, however, who are playing tennis in ratty old t-shirts, mismatched shorts, and college day ball caps, the take home message might just be that to elevate our games we need to first elevate our style.  Perhaps it’s time to pony up for Rog’s French Open shirt, conveniently on sale this week…

ten_a_federer_576

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but the question is,

will he cry as much when his baby is born?

In case you need a reminder of Roger Federer’s waterwork potential, here is one from the 2009 Australian Open:

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i’m beginning to suspect that it’s the outfit

that makes little w. want to play tennis with his daddy.  A young Bjorn Borg in the making?

Kinder 004

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oh dickie gasket, at least i’ll stop picking you to win a couple rounds

Following in Martina Hingis’s footsteps, Richard Gasquet makes a misstep of his own.  Facing a two year suspension from tennis for failed drug tests, I would think one would stay away from the ultra performance enhancing drug that cocaine is, but what do I know?

Will is already mourning the loss of Gasquet’s backhand on the game of tennis but the  backwards turned hat will not be missed.

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does this mean he’ll be stuck at unlucky 13 forever?

When a friend mentioned, “Did you hear about King Rog?” this was not what we were expecting.  I guess Mirka the Smirka has something to be happy about now.

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