It’s been quite a while since we’ve talked. I know…it’s been too long, but two weeks ago I made a pledge that I would be gone until at least ONE Royals player has 5 RCAA (Runs Created Above Average) for the season.
Alas:
Mark Teahen 2
Jose Guillen 2
Willie Bloomquist 1
Yeah, that’s no good. Juan Pierre has 4. Rather than being gone until Solar Cycle 24 peaks, I have decided to enter the sports talk fray today by commenting on what is on everybody’s minds in the first week of June: The French Open!
I’ve long been a fan of Roger Federer for several reasons. He’s always put that uppity brat Andy Roddick in his place (though he doesn’t seem all that worse-for wear because of it), he’s been a consumate professional, and anybody who’s able to channel their creative energy into things other than watch or chocolate making deserves a kudos from me, at least.
Still, the fragile Swissman’s utter domination left my interest un-piqued until the brash, sleeveless Spaniard started schooling him on all surfaces. Sport sans rivalry is…I dont’ know…crappy (??), so I started finding these tennis matches, well, compelling*, and started following the sport more closely than I had minus Sampras v Agassi.
* Of course this post can be correctly interpreted as a cunning and not so un-blatant attempt to link the most incredible piece of sports prose that I have ever read. Read the footnotes, mourn the loss.
I had cursed Fed’s loss at last year’s All England final, and thought that the perpetual corner had been turned on the tears he shed after his defeat at Rafa’s hands in Melbourne earlier this year. In my sports fan brain, I envisioned a resurgent Federer taking Nadal to task in an epic demon exorising five-setter at this year’s French to put the final feather in the Swiss cap.
Cest la vie. Nadal has bowed before taking the trophy for the first time in his career, and that leaves the final piece of the career Grand Slam puzzle Fed’s for the taking.
Still, I’m a little weary of the, “Hey, our biggest threat on the way to a tournament title just got knocked out by an unknown; we’re a shoo-in!!” thought process, especially since Tommy Hass almost ousted our boy earlier today.
We’ll have to wait and see what happens, but you can’t tell me that you didn’t see this Nadal fall coming. All we needed to do was learn from the mistakes of the past and realize that this is what happens when a man dons a sleeveless pink shirt.