The French Open

Anyone been watching the French Open? I saw the first two sets of the Djokovic/Murray match on Sunday and it occurred to me that I play tennis just like that.  And when I say “just like that” I mean professionally, for money, with fellas who look like the kids’ gym teacher.  [Side note: When the gym teacher looks like Djokovic, it’s no wonder all the moms get silly at the school fundraiser when the fine wine man is around.]

And hardy, har, har. I totally fooled you, didn’t I, with my faux pro tennis player line!?

It’s a thing we do on the amateur circuit, joke about being pro. Not that we want to turn pro.  Or ever, EVER hope the Roland Garros and Wimbledon scouts are at our Wednesday evening matches.  We know we’re not going pro, we just want to stop sucking at tennis already.

But whether you’re pro or sucky, it’s so weird how you can rule in the first set of a tennis match, and then in the second set? You get ruled.  Kinda like what happened in the first few sets for Djokovic and Murray on Sunday.  And kinda like what happened to my tennis partner and I one time…

We rocked Set 1.  Then we made one of the opponents fall on her head (accidentally of course, we’re not that good) and after she got a noggin’ bandage from the tennis shop, it was on like donkey kong!  She made a big come back and played tennis like a boss with a noggin’ bandage.

But enough about me and my bad tennis. Also? Does it make me a terrible person to get the giggles whenever I think about that woman falling on her head??  It’s not like we PLANNED it or anything.  And there was the shin, knee, and thigh skid which cushioned things somewhat prior to the head road-rashing.  So I think the consensus here is no?  Not a terrible person at all!?  Thanks for weighing in.

Back to real pros at the French Open: what’s up with all the noises on the court?! Everyone on the court sounds like they’re trying out for bad haunted house gigs.  Mwah, Mwaaaaah, MWAAAAAAH! Or maybe like they’re birthing babies:  Nguh, Nnnguuuh. NNNNGGUUUUUUHHHHH!  I’m seriously considering making these noises during my next tennis match.  There might be a certain distraction-factor-that-could-lead-to-a-win if the opponents think I’m turning zombie on them as the sun sets.   

But what I REALLY wanted to ask here is did the older woman with the gorgeous cheek bones in the blue down jacket just visible over Djokovic’s left shoulder on Sunday remind anyone else of their French “mother” whose semi-detached apartment you stayed in when you lived in Paris??

Yeah??!  Me too!  Twins!!

And remember that part when I accidentally locked her neighbor’s cross-eyed Siamese cat named Lambert in the apartment for one whole week?  Until she asked me in French, “Have you been accidentally locking Lambert in your apartment for one whole week??” That seems a little Frenglish now, but that’s what it sounded like then – just an oddly constructed sentence about odd stuff in oddly familiar and not-so-familiar words.  Naturally the only answer to a question like that is a very hesitant “oui.”  But in my own defense, I thought the cat LIVED in the apartment.

Gaah! I love tennis, don’t you?

You know what I DON’T love? Siamese cats.

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