Far be it from 10sballs.com to suggest that tennis is not the be-all and end-all in this world, but there is a rather large sporting competition that has just started this week in South Africa. The World Cup. The biggest sports festival on the planet. Forget your Olympics, forget your Grand Slams — this is the beautiful game we are talking about: football. Or soccer, as it is known in America,
And far be it for us to suggest that the tennis players, those fit young things who are all preparing for Wimbledon, are rather more interested in the footy (or fitba’, as it is called in Scotland) than they are in the events at the Aegon Championships at Queen’s Club, but…. and, yes, there is a but.
Did anyone happen to notice that Andy Murray and Rafael Nadal, both fitba’ fanatics and, respectively, the defending champion and top seed, went out at Queen’s on the very day that the World Cup started? And that Novak Djokovic, a fervent supporter of Serbia, went out to Xavier Malisse the night before?
Rafa’s loss to Feliciano Lopez allowed the World No.1 to spend a few days at home in Majorca before he returned to SW19 to prepare for the third grand slam of the year. To lose in the quarterfinals was something of a blot on his copybook, seeing as no one had beaten him since the start of the clay court season in April in Monte Carlo, but Rafa didn’t seem to mind. What, then, would he be doing in his brief stay at home?
“World Cup always,” he said. “World Cup always. I was watching start, first match now in the locker [room], and sure, this I can’t see today France against Uruguay because maybe I in the plane [going home], but I going to be always watching the football because it’s my favorite sport.”
The only man who seemed a tad peeved at his early exit from Queen’s was Andy Roddick. Then again — and with all due deference to our American readers — fitba’ has never been quite as big in the Land of the Free as it has everywhere else in the world. A-Rod would just have to kick his heels in London for 10 days and wait for Mrs A-Rod to turn up to distract him. And what was he planning to do with his time before Wimbledon starts?
“I’m open for suggestions,” he said to assembled throng of journos, all of whom hang on his every sometimes-pithy-sometimes-sarky-sometime-hilarious word, at his press conference. “We can put a ballot box here. You locals can inundate me with ideas if you like.”
Note to Mr and Mrs A-Rod: do not accept social invitations from British journalists. Not now, not ever. But particularly not during the World Cup. Not when the USA are playing England in their first match of the tournament. It could be the beginning of the end of a beautiful relationship.
OK, the aforementioned undergarments were branded with the Roland Garros logo (which presumably means they retail for stonking amounts of cash) but they were still, undeniably, a pair of pants and a bra. Worse, they were of random sizes, as Elena Baltacha soon discovered to her dismay.
“Who Elena Baltacha?” I hear you cry. Baltacha — or Bally, to her friends — is Britain’s top female player and is one of the nicest people you could hope to meet. She is also very easy to please — even if the French managed to miss the mark by quite some margin.
Bally was in the French Open draw by right and on ranking for the first time in her life. “Hurrah!” she thought. “I have made it. I have arrived. I am one of the chosen few.” And then she went up to collect her freebies. And then she laughed.
“A Roland Garros bra?” she gasped to 10sballs.com. “Like, completely the wrong size. It’s a 34 C. Why don’t they ask us? Way too small for Serena. Can you imagine? She must really laugh when she opens it. Shocking. And some Roland Garros lady’s boxers. Bra and pants.”
And so, with the sound of her illusions being shattered still ringing in her ears, our Bally left Paris an older and wiser woman. And if anyone wants a 34C Roland Garros bra, they can apply to Bally at Wimbledon in just over a week’s time.
But now, of course, the attention moves on to Wimbledon, that most traditional of venues. At the All England Club, there is still a dress code to which the ladies and gentlemen of the main events must adhere. The code dictates that all must wear “predominantly” white attire and, oddly, there is no mention of flesh colored knickers.
To make matters worse, this year Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will visit the club for the first time since 1977 when Virginia Wade received the trophy from royal hands.
Now, Her Maj is the very pinnacle old school aristocracy. Her echelon of society believe in the maxim: “never complain, never explain.” They also believe in stout shoes, sturdy foundation garments and shooting peasants (pheasants being out of season until October 1).
The arbiters of taste and decorum at the All England Club do not discuss such matters as a lady’s… um… er…. well, a gentleman in Britain never discusses money, politics or religion so you can imagine that Venus’s trolleys (that’d be underwear for all our readers outside Britain) are way off the radar.
However, we have an expression in London: “She’s all fur coat and no knickers, that one.” Roughly translated, it means that the lady in question is concerned only with appearance and is of no substance. So, if Venus turns up in visible undies, assume that she wants to win. And if she turns up looking like she is flying without a parachute, assume that she has booked an early flight home.
And if she plays in front of Her Maj with no trolleys, assume she will spend the rest of her life behind bars in the Tower of London. It is still the resting place of those who have committed treason, you know.
Topics: Aegon, American Readers, Andy Murray, Andy Roddick, Beautiful Game, Clay Court, Copybook, Defending Champion, Early Exit, Favorite Sport, Feliciano Lopez, Fervent Supporter, Grand Slam, Grand Slams, Novak Djokovic, Peeved, Rafael Nadal, Sports Festival, Tennis Players, Xavier Malisse