40 posts categorized "February 2009"
By Andrew Burton
Morning, all.
 We've had a couple of interesting red meat posts by Pete in the last couple of days. In yesterday's Your Call, Pete described something he called the Statistical Fallacy:
"[I]t occurs when we forget that tennis is first and foremost a game of specific match-ups, and therefore each match comes with an entire palette of subtle technical/mental/emotional issues that help shape the outcome. That is, a player's conversion rate on break points, first-serve percentage, or winner-to-error ratio is shaped by the match-up to a degree that renders comparative statistics a highly dubious enterprise."
Well, Pete and I exchanged a few eMails after this post, and what follows is a full-throated roar in defence of my fellow statisticians ----
Or not.
Fact is, in our eMail conversation, I think we saw things more from the same direction than the opposite point-of-view. Much as I'd love to call Pete out on behalf of the numerically inclined, I just can't get there.
You see, in the end statistics can't "prove" anything. The only statistic that counts in tennis is who won the final point. Also, FWIW, I concur with Pete's view that it doesn't matter how prettily that point and the previous points were won (apart from outright cheating). Keep the ball in play more than your opponent, you get the win.
That said, I genuinely do think that statistics can be a useful tool in helping us understand what happened in a match, or a set of matches, applied judiciously. They're part of our toolkit. Most of our memory of a match is emotional: it starts (and sometimes ends) with who won. Then there are big points, reactions, turning points, runs, collapses, tense moments.
Nobody would want their memories of a tennis match to be purely quantitative. Revisiting numbers from a match, or a season, though, can help us see the larger picture. They can help us get beyond our emotional memories, which sometimes aren't truly fact based.
Now, some statistics are less helpful than others. That old commentators' favorite, the first serve percentage, is a very flawed statistic - for one thing, you could have a 100% first serve percentage, and win 0% of your first serve points! What counts is what you do with the serve, and what you prevent your opponent from doing with his or her return.
I've had some amused looks from people like Joel Drucker for writing about the total number of points won in a tennis match, but it is the case that even in close matches, the winner of the match tends to be the person who wins most points. Not always though - even at AO F 2009, Nadal actually won one point fewer than Federer. What counted, though, is that he won the fifth set decisively.
But if we think through what that means, it says that by the start of set five, Federer had established a significant points lead over Nadal in the first four sets (158-146). And that means that, to be in contention, Nadal had to be winning more of the "big points."
Well, one could say "duh" - particularly given the missed BPs and lost TB at the end of set 3. But I think what this points to is a question that will likely haunt Federer fans as they reflect on his career against Nadal. Both men have had easy wins, and there have been clean kills, but they've also played several tight matches.
I count seven out of nineteen so far. Federer has won two: Miami F 2005, and Wimbledon F 2007. Nadal has won five: Dubai F 2006, Rome F 2006, Hamburg F 2008, Wimbledon F 2008, and AO F 2008. When it comes down to it, Nadal has shown himself so far to be the better "big point, tight match" player than Federer.
The Miami final in 2005 was the first tight match, and it's proven a false omen. In that match, Nadal was two points from a straight sets victory, but Federer pulled out the third set TB and the next two sets. Given Federer's history of figuring out tough opponents, his fans may have believed that Nadal had been figured out.
Their next five encounters ended that fantasy. Over the years, Federer partisans have asked themselves "what does my guy have to do - what minor adjustment can he make - to beat this fellow consistently?" Shore up the BH? Serve better? Attack the return? Come to the net more?
It's a bit reminiscent of the old Tom Wolfe Right Stuff test pilot's lament - "I've tried A! I've tried B! I've tried C! " - then he crashes and is burned beyond recognition. Three times in a row - RG F 2008, W F 2008, AO F 2009 - Federer has, metaphorically, crashed and burned beyond recognition. "But that was clay - can't happen on grass." "OK, but Nadal can't win a major on HC." "OK, what now?"
The "what now" is that even Federer fans, like myself, have to acknowledge that Nadal may well go down, when the history of the time is written, as the better player. Not because of numbers, or statistics, or titles won, or the mix of titles won, or weak eras or what not - but because, on whichever surface you chose to put them, when it came to the clutch, you'd rather put your money on Nadal to win that critical BP or tiebreak.
Still, their next encounter lies in the future. Today we have Novak Djokovic, the only member of the Big 4 not to have withdrawn from Dubai (either before or during the tournament) against David Ferrer. The H2H stands at 3-3, with the last encounter going to Djokovic convincingly last year in Melbourne. In Acapulco, Almagro and Monfils face off in the ATP, while Venus WIlliams and Flavia Pennetta will contest the WTA final.
This will be your Your Call post of the day. The normal drill applies: please post on tennis related matters until the day's play is done, then it's OK to go mildly off topic. Courtesy of Master Ace, here are some key match times:
ATP: Dubai 8 AM - Damm/Lindstedt vs DeVoest/Tursunov
ATP: Dubai 10 AM - Novak Djokovic vs David Ferrer
ATP: Delray Beach 2:30 PM - Evgeny Korolev vs Christophe Rochus
ATP: Delray Beach 7 PM - Mardy Fish vs Jeremy Chardy
WTA: Acapulco 7:30 PM - Venus Williams vs Flavia Pennetta
ATP: Acapulco 10 PM - Nicolas Almagro vs Gael Monfils
My own plans for next month include reporting from Indian Wells from March 14th, so I hope to see lots of the Tribe there.
And I can't resist mentioning this: it seems that statisticians are the new sex symbols....
by Pete Bodo
No, I'm not Jackie-Oh, as you probably already know. I'm taking this over today because I can't seem to find her, and all I've heard is the same rumor as some of the rest of you: something about writing on a bathroom mirror, in bright red lipstick: Going to meet Gilles in St. Barts, hold my mail. . .
Ha. I was originally supposed to fill this space with a report on my vacation in Panama, but I was long-winded (as usual) in my most recent post, and won't be able to get it done until later this evening. But I wanted to provide you with the DC for today at the usual time, so here it is.
This is a picture of Luke, feeding the chickens at La Loma Lodge, where we spent four days in Panama. The dog in the background is Goose, and when I saw first saw him, waiting for us in the dock as the boat pulled up, it almost broke my heart. Goose looks almost exactly like my old girl Lucy, whom we lost about five years ago. The only real difference is the Lucy was black with a white blaze on her chest. Strikingly, Goose has the same smile, the same ticks and habits (a gentle mouthiness, a really firm tail wag that endangers anything standing near it, a tendency to form a "U" up against your leg as you scratch the magic spot where his backbone meets his tail, combined with a loving stare and happy panting).
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Our flight to Panama took about four-and-a-half hours, which is about an hour and change longer than a typical flight to Miami (Some friends were surprised to hear that you can fly direct to Panama City from New York, but there it is). But that little extra time (and the unavoidable hassles of customs and passport control) get you somewhere considerably more exotic than Biscayne Boulevard, or Sea World. Let me say up front that overall we had no real adventures, harrowing or otherwise - if you discount having to drive on some pretty busted-up roads in a rental car on which every ding and pock-mark has been duly noted, with the expectation that you'll pony up should you add to the damage). This was a family vacation, and we carried light sabers (you can see Luke carrying his omni-present green one in the picture, just in case Jobba the Hutt or Boba Fett had designs on mommy), not emergency safety beacons and aluminum space blankets.
Our first stop was El Valle, a small town that grew up inside the cone of an enormous volcano that, post-eruption, became a lake (think Crater Lake). But at some point a wall of the volcano was breached, and all the water rushed out,leaving a rich, fertile green cup surrounded by towering peaks. This was on the Pacific side of Panama, about two hours driving time from Panama City. We eventually hiked the original breach for a few clicks, as a raucous brook still carves its way through the rugged gorge through which the lake was emptied.
Later, we took a horseback ride that we had booked in advance. That was a little surreal, as the operators of the franchise were an elderly crone and her (presumed) grandchildren, as fine an assortment of dirty -faced urchins as you'll find anywhere. Somehow, this crew had managed to cling to the small farm and keep a stable of horses, even though the area around them had become something like an upscale ex-urban community - a tropical Aspen featuring the McHaciendas of Panama City's well-heeled residents, complete with well-paved streets and gardeners with leaf blowers. We more or less blew off the ride about halfway through; the nags were dispirited and I didn't really feel good about clip-clopping along on a strange trail patched together from equal parts dirt wagon track, macadam, and various people's back (and front) yards, alongside parked Range Rovers and Mercedeses.
It was dry but very windy on the Pacific side, which was nice - I'm a fan of big weather and enjoyed lying in bed and listening to the palm fronds rattle and shake.
After two days in El Valle, we returned to Panama City and caught a 40-minute flight to Bocas del Toro, where a boat was waiting to take us to La Loma Jungle Lodge on the small island of Bastimentieos. There are no roads on the island, boats are the only mode of transportation. We were guests of Henry and Margaret, he a Chilean who grew up in Los Angeles and she an English girl from Brighton. They'd just had their first child, Lucho, a few months earlier. Our fellow guests were a pair of young couples, one from London and the other from Chicago (by way of Brooklyn).
The accommodations at the lodge are built on the sides of nearly vertical slopes, and easily mistaken for tree houses, the way they're suspended out in space, with lush foliage all around them. Each one (I believe there are only three besides the main lodge, which sits at the base of the slope on level ground) is hidden from the others, and two have ocean views. Our tree house was a big, square room ("deck" might be a better word) with no walls and a thatched roof;the two beds were enclosed in a fabric box of fine, white, gauzy mosquito netting (although there were few bugs); it was like sleeping outdoors, but with electricity and a spacious bathroom with shower and a sink.
On previous Central America jaunts, we'd tramped around quite a bit, but La Loma proved an ideal place for what I would call a "relaxacation." There are hiking trails, including one challenging one, and we made excursions by boat to various small beaches on the windward side, and up a wild mangrove "creek" (where we saw a five-foot alligator well-hidden in the mangrove roots along shore, indolently waiting for one of the sloths to plop into the water from the canopy that arched over the canal). But mostly, the days revolved around three fine meals (I think I had at least a dozen vegetables and fruits I'd never even knew existed) prepared by Henry and his native helpers. We had plenty of time for lounging around the tree house, napping or reading between meals. I'm not very good at that kind of thing, though, so I was often a little restless. But my wife, Lisa, was a little under the weather so it did her good.
Henry and Margaret are into sustainable, ecologically sound farming, which made me suspect that their annoyance quotient as eco-Puritans could be really high. But Henry is an old-school type Renaissance man with surprisingly wide knowledge of many things. They're a delightful, cosmopolitan couple, and while they support their way of life (and that of a small staff) with tourism, I felt that they're genuinely social and were entertaining rather than merely providing a service. The meals were exquisite, and lovingly prepared, using most ingredients grown right there. Henry and Margaret grow a dizzying array of foodstuffs, from cocoa beans to star fruit and yucca. Each night, Henry made an exotic concoction featuring rum and some combination of fruit.
It was a great trip for Luke, partly because of the warmth showered on him by our hosts and fellow guests (Paul, a software-writer from Chicago, turned out to be a big Stars Wars guy, which may have taken his girlfriend, Helen, by surprise). In fact, by the second of our four-plus days, Luke made a breakthrough. For the first time in his life, he decided he wanted to go off on his own - down to the lodge, to "hang out" with people besides his parents. That day, I watched him descend the 75 yards of very steep, natural steps, and make his way along the elevated wooden boardwalk to the lodge, which was barely visible about 300 yards away and below us among the trees.
At seven every morning,Kelly, Henry's right-hand man, would bring us a tray with a thermos of coffee and freshly baked muffins or rolls, plus orange juice for Luke. On the third morning of our stay, I brought in the coffee and noticed that Henry had forgotten to send up the usual small, plastic container of milk. I groaned. Neither Lisa nor I felt much like descending all the way to the lodge to get milk, but then I hit upon a bright idea - let's send Luke!
I expected he might get distracted and forget to come back, or drop the milk. He's performed small chores before (which usually required re-performance by an adult), but this was something like a real errand. He left and returned immediately, carefully holding the milk as he climbed the stairs. I felt a twinge of melancholy watching him; I realized I was witnessing a warning shot fired across my bow, reminding me that while he's just six, he's already growing up and there's a reason dozens of people have counseled me to enjoy these times, because they vanish for good, and faster than you'd think.
I got over that, though, and was soon plotting ways I might induce him to mow the lawn, paint the picnic table, or put the chains on the tractor.
It rained almost continuously for one day; dense, gray sheets of the kind you rarely get outside the tropics. The rest of the time it was mostly sunny with the occasional shower.
We flew back to Panama City on Saturday afternoon, with an 8:30 pm Sunday night flight out. We wanted to see the locks of the Panama canal, and perhaps a few other sights. We got lucky. Reuben, the cabbie who took us from the airport to our hotel, was a prince. We hit it off so well that the next morning we engaged him for the entire day (total cost: 80 bucks, but I happily added a hefty tip). Reuben drove us all over the place, explained a great many things about his city and country, and generally made it a great, memorable day. I took his card, so if you're ever going to Panama, give me a call.. .
Also, here's a PSA from Master Ace:
GVGirl wanted me to let TW know that Talk About Tennis will be having a
gathering next week at noon(CST) before the Davis Cup tie (in Birmingham) begins for a quick meet and
greet. Even though I won’t see any matches, I will be at the meet and greet on
Friday. Plans are to meet at the BJCC ( Birmingham-Jefferson Civic Center )
sign.
This is a good DC for discussing your winter blues, and any vacation you may have taken recently, or plan on taking soon. I'll be back to sub out the post with a more detailed description of the trip later.
by Pete Bodo
Well, it's been an eventful week - I never had the chance to resume the
coaching series, but I will next week. Meanwhile, I've been doing a little
navel-gazing and want to just ramble around a bit this morning.
One of the pleasures of writing a weblog like this is the instant,
unlimited feedback you get from readers (tough as that can make life
when you screw up or get someone's nose out of joint). As most of you aren't journalists, I'm not sure you can fully appreciate the novelty of all this for someone like me. For most of my adult life, the only out-of-profession response I could count on was the occasional Letters to the Editor submission that made its way to my desk or the Tennis letters department - usually, some weeks after whatever I wrote appeared. Unfortunately, the effort required to actually compose and send such a letter tended to limit the practice of this art form to really, really angry people. This is a whole new and far more vibrant, agreeable (usually) world. You can call me out now, quickly and immediately, but I also like that this street is policed both ways.
For example, yesterday, while reading the Comments on the Stages of Great post, I felt moved to call out a few readers on two different fronts having to do with Roger Federer's game, and efforts to analyze/rationalize some of his results. The first of these is what I would call the Statistical Fallacy, and it occurs when we forget that tennis is first and foremost a game of specific match-ups, and therefore each match comes with an entire palette of subtle technical/mental/emotional issues that help shape the outcome. That is, a player's conversion rate on break points, first-serve percentage, or winner-to-error ratio is shaped by the match-up to a degree that renders comparative statistics a highly dubious enterprise.
Here's a comparison. I imagine (and maybe one of you diligent souls will be moved to do the research on this) that even the best hitters in baseball have less than a hall-of-fame batting average against certain pitchers they face frequently enough for the statistics to be significant (I am not anti-statistic). The lifetime .300 hitter may bat just .125 against a certain pitcher, and while you can put that down to a technical failure to execute (the plane of his swing is too flat for the way this guy pitches; this particular pitcher's fastball is especially deadly against left-handers), but it's more accurate, and fair, to say: "Pitcher-X has batter-X's
number" than it is to say "Batter-X is .300 hitter, so his failure to
hit better than .125 against Pitcher-X is an anomaly."
Often, there's often a reason that execution goes awry. it's really all about the chemistry of the principals and their games, and the result of the mix is often unpredictable. The most realistic, accurate comment is: Holy Cow, Batter-X should thank God Pitcher -X isn't the only thrower in the game!
The other presumption can be called the Flying Pig Fallacy. I was accused of a worshiping at the "altar of Nadal" yesterday (where was Tigress when Nadal fans were skewering me for writing about Federer, rather than Nadal, the day after the Australian Open?) for suggesting that it's not really fair to claim that if Federer's service percentage had been somewhere in the X-per cent area, he would have won the match. This, of course, is the fountain of rationalization from which every KAD drinks copiously and greedily, and it's the same instinct that leads to someone to say: So-and-so should win because he has the best game.
What that really means is: So-and-so has the style that most appeals to me. And winning and losing at tennis isn't about style, or technique. You don't get docked for having a "boring" game, nor are you awarded
style points for a pretty backhand. There's a difference between being
the most powerful, the most skillful, the most artistic, the most
versatile and. . . the best. And that difference is indisputable, at
least on a match-by-match basis, because in tennis they keep score. It's about who wins two or three sets first, and that's really about who gets to the other guy's serve more effectively.
This, incidentally, is a two-part issue: how well you protect your own serve, and how well you attack the other guy's. To my mind, Nadal's ability to protect his serve is the least thoroughly explored "technical" issue in the rivalry, and it was an enormous component in the Australian Open final (as well as the underpinning of his repeated triumphs at Roland Garros). Federer's first-serve percentage as a stand-alone statistic, means absolutely nothing because holding is just half the battle - and here's a secret: it's the easier half.
**********
One of the less obvious pleasures of being an Internet journalist is that reader reaction can take you on interesting journeys
that have less to do with literary content than journeys into the more
abstract realms of semantics, or logic. That is, if you care at all
about what people say. And I do care - in direct proportion
to the nature and tone of any given criticism or observation. Thus,
given the controversy stirred by my use of a certain phrase in my Your
Call post on the Swedish Davis Cup tie (I'm not going to repeat the offending words here), I found myself thinking quite a bit about word choice and usage the other afternoon.
So let me ask you this. Is it objectionable to write, Nobody does fashion as well as the French! Better yet, how about, Nobody does clay-court tennis like the Spanish. I think we'd all agree that these are not unacceptable or offensive generalizations; they're fact-based opinions that may or may not be true. I doubt that anyone would consider either of those phrases an example of "stereotyping" which suggests that we reserve the use of that word for observations that, for whatever reason, offend us. And the perceived offense easily overshadows and discredits the substance of the observation. Nobody has a problem with identifying the French with fashion, but what if I wrote, Nobody does chauvinism as well as the French. Wanna bet it triggers a host of protests? So I'm not sure that "stereotyping" is really the issue here; the issue is real or imagined criticism - which may or may not be valid.
Further, what does Nobody does clay-court tennis as well as the Spanish really mean? It certainly doesn't mean that Italy, or France, has no good clay players; nor does it mean that every Spanish pro is a great clay-court player. And it doesn't mean that the Spanish are just clay-court players (I can think of at least one Spanish kid whose game on grass and hard is pretty darned good, too). It just means that Spain has produced more fine clay court players than any other nation, which to some degree is a matter of simple fact. I think all generalizations of this kind ought to be run through the same logic mill. Maybe a "stereotype" is really just a generalization that we don't like or agree with, or which can't be backed up with a reasonable body of facts. In that case, there is reason to be offended.
*****************
I was lucky the other day, though, when an angel of mercy jumped in with the "B" word (Brad Pitt), suggesting that the movie star ought to play the lead role in a projected auto-biography of Roger Federer (or was it TMF himself who suggested that?). Hollywood to the rescue! Soon everyone was talking about his and her favorite actor instead of global politics and things settled down.
And what would the appropriate Roger Federer movie be called? Maybe He's Just Not that Into Davis Cup? Rancho de Luxilon? How about Breakpoints Are Forever, with a theme song by Shirley Bassey, and a logo shaped like a Wilson tennis racket spelling out 014. Boo-yeah, old school!
Hey, it's not so far-fetched, is it? There is something James Bond-esque about TMF, and it isn't the first name he shares with one of actors who has portrayed Ian Fleming's celebrated British spy. James Bond could be described as Roger Federer-plus, the plus being a better developed left arm, a lot more experience with semi-automatic handguns, a deeper knowledge of mixology, and a penchant for caddish behavior. But I have a funny feeling that Mirka would put the ki-bosh on that last item, pronto.
And here's something else, Roger is a very tradition-minded guy; who better to take the tennis-espionage tradition to the next level? Let's remember that Bill Cosby, while no longer so ubiquitous, got his start in television portraying co-star Robert Culp's tennis coach in the enormously popular series, I Spy.
Culp and Cosby were a pair of secret agents working under cover as "tennis bums" in the classic sense - they were footloose playboy/athletes, following the sun (and wealthy heiresses) while saving the world from all manner of villains. Culp was the player. Cosby the coach. Federer could do one of those roles nicely, although it would have to be the Cosby gig. Lord knows, Lee Strasberg himself probably couldn't teach TMF how to impersonate someone who's into being coached!.
Good enough, it leaves the Robert Culp role as the player to - who else? - Marat Safin.
Chatter on! And have a good weekend, everyone.
PS - I've hi-jacked Jackie-Oh's Deuce Club for today, although I may have to post it fairly late tonight, from the farm.
- Pete
Hey, everyone. Here's a YC for today. FYI, the content of my original post here just disappeared, after the Getty image bank website began acting up on me. I'm just not up to rewriting the post, or I may take another whack after taking a walk and post it as tomorrow's YC.Thankfully, it wasn't a red-meat post, but still. . maybe Tom Perrrotta is right, and I should always write my posts in Word, or Notepad. This is the second time in two weeks that something like this has happened. Meanwhile, this is the place to discuss the ongoing tennis action until you hear otherwise. Gah!
- Pete
by Pete Bodo
It's funny, but the day after we at Tennis magazine committed to covering the upcoming
USA vs. Switzerland Davis Cup tie in Birmingham, Ala., I wandered into
Steve Tignor's office and said, "You know, this is going to be great -
if Roger doesn't pull out."
Steve laughed and said, "Yeah, but I don't think he'll do that."
I said that I wasn't so sure - although he's got an outstanding
record against the Americans, and the Davis Cup tie segues nicely into
the hard court season, I had to wonder what he was thinking and feeling
after his loss to Rafael Nadal in the Australian Open final. Besides,
I've felt since the middle of 2008 that Federer is at the point where he
ought to conduct a complete reassessment of his objectives going
forward, and how to best realize them: How do I get major no.14, and can I get there from here?.
Ironically, winning the US Open in 2008 may have forestalled this critical moment of stock-taking, and the not entirely predictable - or comfortable - monologue that might ensue. But, I felt, Federer was probably at the point where he needed to climb a high peak unlike those he's in the habit of visiting, and look down upon a valley not merely strewn with the corpses of his rivals, but the topography of his career. Then, after some study, he might ask himself: Okay, where do I go from here?
I still think it's inevitable that Federer gets off the treadmill that rules a top player's life no less powerfully than that of a journeyman's - the key difference being that a journeyman doesn't make headlines, draw the ire of critics, or cause hand-wringing among his fans if he decides to skip a couple of Challenger events and a 250 event (or an International Series tournament, in the King James version). This was not a question of "if", but "when." And part of me thinks that "when" might be now.
This strikes me as a significant move and a fairly strong statement. The Mighty Fed has withdrawn from from an event where he would be the center of attention to an even greater degree than at a major (which makes his decision that much more attention getting), and one that had many novel and even charming dimensions even for a Davis Cup tie. Let's face it - nobody ever confused Birmingham with southwest London, the Shea stadium stop on the no. 7 train, or the red-clay fortress girded by the Bois d'Boulogne and the Peripherique. Was this an assertion of autonomy, or a fair impersonation of a deer caught in the headlights? We saw what happened when Nadal pulled out of the Davis Cup final vs. Argentina late last year, although the temptation to question the legitimacy of Nadal's move simply didn't seem as compelling.
This USA vs Switzerland tie, while less crucial than last year's final, also had greater resonance here in the US (I can't alter that fact that I am, after all, an American, and inclined to focus on events and issues that impact the domestic game). But even on a broader scale, this upcoming Davis Cup tie seemed to be building to a whole greater than the sum of its parts - the way a tie between Serbia and Spain might, if it were held in a second or even third-tier Serbian city. Pat McEnroe told me weeks ago that the USTA had been swamped with even more media credential requests than it had been for the final against Russia in Portland in 2007, and that he spent a good bit of his time in Melbourne (while on the job as an ESPN commentator) giving interviews focused on this upcoming tie. McEnroe was surprised - and delighted - by the buzz the tie was generating.
So while I had a gut feeling this Federer might pull out, for reasons that at the time had little to do with rumors that his back was injured. Granted, he has not exactly made Davis Cup a high priority, although he has said that in 2009 it is. And there was a powerful, two-pronged reason for Federer to meet this commitment: First, pulling out would be a buzz-kill of the highest magnitude, and only the most bewitched of Federer partisans could take it lightly; Second, given the circumstances, the decision would really stimulate the What's Wrong With Roger? conversation in a way that taking a pass on Dubai, Monte Carlo, or Cincinnati would not. Anyone willing to unleash those hounds would have to be in serious disarray, or so coolly self-assured that even behind closed hotel room doors, the chattering would be dismissed as insignificant white noise. Discount that latter possibility at your peril; this is Roger Federer we're talking about.
It may seem uncharitable to second-guess Federer's motivations or the degree of his injury, but the nature of the situation almost demands it, at least for a journalist, whose job it is to ask tough questions and perform due diligence. This is less a question of whether or not TMF is injured than a question of just how incapacitated he is and, secondarily, how realistic it is for him, at age 27 and with a load of Grand Slam miles on his clock, to expect to be in perfect physical health (which of the top players is?) at every event he plays. Federer's decision to by-pass Birmingham is no small thing. And you can reason your way into a few good reasons for scrutinizing his withdrawal:
1- The last we saw of Roger, he went five sets tough with Rafael Nadal in a major final and showed no sign of physical distress.
2 - His decision was announced weeks after he played his last match in Melbourne, and shortly before the start of Dubai; if his injury is that serious, wouldn't he have known it and made it a matter of record sooner - especially in light of the fact that he was giving his opponents no advantage, due the break in his scheduling?
3 - Nobody ever just pulls out of tournaments anymore; injury, especially hard-to-diagnose injury, is the trump card every player holds, and it's the thing that keeps him from being a slave to the system. Personally, I prefer this imperfect honor system to all the alternatives, but that's neither here nor there.
4 - To my mind, this is the big if most speculative one. For the second year in a row, Federer lost at the Australian Open, and for the second year in a row an injury/illness narrative has slowly emerged, and taken on a life of its own. And it has emerged long enough after the event to shield Federer from being accused of excuse-making, but soon enough to be absorbed into the conventional wisdom. I'm not saying this is spin, but I am saying that if you wanted to spin the losses, you couldn't do it in a better, more artful way.
Still, nobody is inside the guy's back - maybe it really is killing him, and he had hoped until the last moment that he would be able to play in Dubai and Birmingham. It would also be pointless to expect him to play if he doesn't feel up to it - for any reason. By the same token, it strikes me as willfully naive to believe that the three extra days of theoretical rest is worth more to Federer - in terms of his conditioning and fitness, after he's had over a month off - than the preparation for Indian Wells that the Davis Cup provided in the form of match play. Either this guy is a lot more hurt than he's let on, or less motivated, for any number of reasons, than we expect or hope.
I'm inclined to interpret it this way: Federer has arrived at what is the third stage in every great player's career. In the first stage, which begins when a player makes his pro debut, he (or she) fights like all get-out to establish himself as an impact player. In the second stage, which usually includes the Golden Age, he dominates to whatever degree he can, insatiably gobbling up titles, money and rankings points, in a Zen-like state of career-bliss. At this level, the player basks in glory, takes pride in what he's doing for The Game, and very often develops a healthy to excessive sense of his own value. It doesn't seem quite fair, but that's why God made the third stage: It's that period when the reality of tennis mortality sinks in, and the piper demands to be paid. A player, while still a young man, begins to sense that things may be slipping away, and - if he's any kind of champion at all (and remember, there's no law saying he must be,) he pulls out all the stops and kicks and claws to keep his place at or near the top.
At the third stage, all that baloney about being a role model goes out the window, even as the player is wiser, and more in cognizant of what he's doing. Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras were very good at being ambassadors for the game, even with the grind was wearing them thin, boring them to tears, or failing to motivate them as it once did. Bjorn Borg, by contrast, remained remarkably callow through his career (and he paid dearly for it in the afterlife). To some extent, he was driven out of the game by the establishment for daring to say what almost all of these guys at some level think, but are smart enough not to articulate: I've proven my worth, I've done great things for the game, I want to be free to do what I want in the few years left to me.
The establishment replied: Can't have any of that, Bjorn, your honesty is toxic!
One of Borg's endearing qualities, albeit a self-injurious one, was his absolute lack of guile.
At the third stage, the high-minded determination to avoid mind games and shrewd jockeying for advantage or position get shoved into the trash compactor. At the third stage, a champion jettisons baggage like his sense of obligation to The Game; he may thumb his nose at the rules of engagement that he once embraced, and he sometimes turns his back on people (including fans) who hang on his every word. He realizes something that he knew all along, but could afford to ignore when he was flush with youth, ambition, skill, and predatory eyes: I'm in this for myself; I can't afford to belong to everybody anymore, because that extra major or two is worth more than all that other stuff combined. . .
Sounds horrible, doesn't it? But it isn't, really. Because this guy is a champion, and while many champions (including Federer) have been nice guys, are nice guys, that is what champions do. It's part of what makes them different from you and me, and one of the reasons we alternately or even simultaneously love, admire, envy and trash them. And hey - it's not like they're vested with the responsibilities of a pastor, a parent, or an officer charged with ensuring the safety of his troops.
In a conference call on Tuesday, US Davis Cup captain Pat McEnroe was asked if he was disappointed by Federer's decision to pull out - a move that ruined what was taking shape as a wonderful story: Roger and Mirka go to Birmingham, yee-hah! He replied:
"To be honest, I was a little disappointed, really. . . (but) a big part of the reason that we've been able to have
such a great turn out anticipated in Birmingham is mostly due to our
team and the fact that these guys have been such strong supporters of the Davis Cup for so many years. . . (but) I would be lying if I didn't say Roger didn't have
something to do with that as well. He doesn't play Davis Cup that
often, and to see him playing in our country would have been exciting
for tennis."
Of course, you're entitled to ask, Why should Federer give a hang about taking tennis to Birmingham, Alabama, a place in which it's unlikely he'll ever set foot again?
My only answer is one that reflects a strong prejudice: Because it's Davis Cup - the second greatest institution in tennis (after the aggregate called the majors). I've seen plenty of top players take a pass on Davis Cup, and it's certainly tougher to work up a lot of enthusiasm for the event when you come from Switzerland, whose chance of winning the competition, even with Federer in yoke, has been pretty slim. But the lack of his significant impact in Davis Cup is a blemish on Federer's otherwise stellar record, at least for those of us who care about such things.
This is a more significant issue now that the Swiss have a worthy no. 2 man in Stan Wawrinka. This year, Federer had a shot at adding a Davis Cup win to his resume, to join other underdog winners like Sweden (winners over the former Czechoslovakia in 1975, thanks to newly emerging star Bjorn Borg) and Czechoslovakia itself, when Ivan Lendl led the squad to the final round win over Italy in 1980.
McEnroe was also asked if he saw anything in Melbourne that would suggest that Federer was struggling with injury, and the short version is that he did not. But he passed along some intel from Jose Higueras, who recently coached Federer, but has since taken a job as McEnroe's no. 2 man in the USTA player development programs. Higueras told McEnroe that while he was with Federer, the player had now and then complained of back troubles (I don't have access to the transcript as I write this, but I will sub it out with the full quote tomorrow morning from the office).
Whether the main issue here is Federer's back or his head is a subject worthy of debate. Who knows, maybe it's a little bit of both.
 I'll try to keep this brief, because I wanted to get rolling on a different sort of Davis Cup red-meat post for later in the day. However, I feel obliged to address the decision taken by the Swedes to play the Sweden vs. Israel Davis Cup tie in Malmo, behind closed doors.
That's right - no spectators. The Swedish federation is worried about demonstrations against Israel.
This is a despicable decision that represents capitulation to political gangsterism, and the unique form of anti-semitism that hides under a pretty cloak of humanitarian concern. And don't let those clogs, skinny jeans, peace signs and retro-Puma sneakers fool you - nobody does anti-semitism better than blond, blue-eyed, northern Europeans - the painful realities of the Arab-Israel conflict non withstanding.
So: if the fearful federation types can't provide adequate security (and, really, how hard could it be to do so in an indoor tennis arena?), or fear mob rule, they should do one of two things: forfeit the tie, or move it to a neutral site, even though it means surrendering the home-ground advantage. In the big picture, that advantage is a privilege, not a right.
I am not buying this crap-ola about the potential move to Stockholm "falling through." The bottom line is that if there are to be no spectators in Malmo, the Swedish federation is going to take a financial bath anyway. And that means they can move the tie to any place that might be willing to, or interested in, having it. And if the democratic, enlightened state that is Sweden cannot provide a safe place for two nations to play a Davis Cup tie, seek another option.
For example, why not admit that you can't (or, more likely, don't really want to) control your people and have the tie played in. . . Israel? That's right. It may seem unfair to punish the Swedish team by making them play an away tie when they have the right to play at home, but it's also unfair to the Israeli players to deny them the security they're owed (and the protections they're entitled to expect). Playing the tie behind closed doors basically defines the Israelis as pariahs (frankly, I think that's the covert, political intent of this weasly decision) and that's a horrible and blatant injustice that only the truly bigoted can countenance.
I think the ITF ought to call an emergency meeting and contemplate either suspending Sweden (a move I'd make only as a last resort, because it's unfair to the fundamentally apolitical Swedish players), or taking the tie away from them, and hosting it under the ITF banner at a neutral site.
I am going to join the Mod Squad in insisting that the discussion in the comments remain civil. As always, the best policy regarding trolls is to ignore the comment in question until it disappears.
PS - That's Dudi Sela serving in the photo, in case you were wondering.
- Pete Bodo
by Pete Bodo
Mornin!
So while we've been pre-occupied with fairly weighty matters here, some news that will bring a smile to many of your faces just came through the pipeline: On Sunday, May 17th, the All-England Club, Wimbledon, will stage a special event to celebrate (and test) the new roof that has been installed over Centre Court. The festivities will include an exhibition match, featuring four names so familiar that it ought to banish any notion that what the AEC really wants to see is whether or not the roof collapses on everyone's head.
One of the icons who traipse onto the greensward a month before Wimbledon begins will be Andre Agassi. And as you know, Andre often insists that his wife, Steffi, accompany him to social functions, so she'll be there too - along with Tim Henman and Kim Clijsters - that's right, our much loved (by you), much maligned (by me). . . Champagne Kimmy, you remember, the plump lass who hates tennis but loves little puppies and children and long walks on the beach and - of course - pina coladas!
According to the official communique from Wimbledon: The event is designed to test the new roof and air management system with live tennis in front of a capacity crowd of 15,000. The programme will feature a men’s singles, a ladies’ singles and a mixed doubles match all played to the pro set format – the first to 8 games, with a tie-break at 8-8. The exact order of play will be confirmed nearer the time.
Ticket priced at £35.00 will go on general sale via Ticketmaster (0844 847 2481) at 10.00 am on Thursday 12 March 2009. There will be no on-day sales at the turnstiles. I am hoping that TW can score a credential for Rosangel to cover the event.
I wonder, is it possible to revive the original name of Mt. Murray, just for the day? Some of you may remember that the towering peak rose from the loam and turf of the serve-and-valley of the dinosaurs as Henman Hill, and many ancients and druids abandoned Stonehenge to worship there.
This inclusion of Champagne Kimmy is somewhat puzzling, given that she made just two semifinals at Wimbledon and lost both (and she's going to face-off against seven time champ Steffi Graf?) . Okay, so Henman never won Wimbledon, either. But hey, the guy is not merely British, he's actually English-British (as opposed to you know who), and he's got a mountain, or what passes for such in the pastoral reaches of southern England, named after him.
Henman always over-performed at Wimbledon, and he acquitted himself extremely well under an intense amount of scrutiny and pressure. He also took a fair amount of grief from London hipsters for being "too nice." The moniker "Gentleman Tim" was often delivered with a sneer rather than a smile. But there was only one thing, ever, wrong with Henman at Wimbledon, and that was. . . Pete Sampras (who led their career H2H by 6-1, including three meetings at Wimbledon - two of those semifinals).
So what do you think, are we looking at a Kim Clijsters comeback here? Personally, I don't see it. She's one of the all-time great chokers, and it's hard to imagine someone who's so unsteady summoning the sand to fight her way up through the rankings - especially at a time when the number of dangerous, tough, ambitious players is at an all-time high.
But you never know, and I have to confess it would be kind of fun to have her around again. . .
PS - Comment poster Melissa yesterday took exception to the way I characterized Nikki Pilic and his home nation, Yugoslavia, in my Golden Handcuffs post. While I meant no disrespect toward Pilic, whom I know and like, I think it was fair to characterize him as something less than an "iconic" player (his career-high ranking was no. 12, and he never won a major). Likewise, there was no malice in my characterization of Yugoslavia as something less than a tennis power. In both cases, my point was that in calling for the Wimbledon boycott the ATP chose to rally behind someone who could easily have been flung under the bus.
PPS - I'm still digging out from vacation, but I'll get back to our coaching series tomorrow.
by Pete Bodo
Greetings, everyone. It's nice to be home; we arrived in JFK (from Panama) at around 1 AM last night and got a few hours sleep before rolling into work (and school) this morning. I'll probably write a little about our trip later this week, and post a few photos for those of you who might be interested. But I wanted to get back in the flow here first, which isn't always an easy thing to do - especially when so much has happened while I was eating vegetables I'd never tasted (or heard of) before this trip, chasing Cowboy Luke around the backwash of the surf, and helping our hosts at La Loma Jungle Lodge shell chocolate beans.
Ever taste the bean from which chocolate is made? It's a lot like a large kidney bean that tastes like a concentrated dose of expresso coffee, with a dash of semi-sweet chocolate. The first one you eat tastes really bitter, but by the time you pop your third or fourth, the chocolate flavor is more pronounced and pretty soon you're popping the suckers like candy.
Anyway, I just wrote a post for ESPN on L'Affair Pe'er, basically interpreting the controversy the way a foreign policy wonk, or political realist, might look at current events - less with an eye toward the obvious "moral" or "human rights" dimensions at play (although they certainly exist) than the hard realities of who won and lost - whose ambitions were more or less realized, and who managed to pursue his or her interests most successfully.
If you weigh those realities with a fairly clinical, dispassionate eye, you learn more, and that knowledge will shape your thinking in a more valuable way than simply picking your moral stance and trying to shout down whoever happens to have a conflicting view. Besides, most of you regular readers know how I feel about the engagement between tennis and the United Arab Emirates; if you don't, that's why we have the Search box.
The most striking thing to me in this latest controversy is how thoroughly and ruthlessly the promoters of the Barclay's Dubai Tennis Championships gamed the WTA, waiting until the last moment to reject Shahar Pe'er's visa application. The tournament gambled that neither the WTA at-large (meaning, the women players) nor their leader, Larry Scott, would have or find the political will to call them on what was really just another variation on the old bait-and-switch theme.
And it's significant that the issue was in one critical way not about "human rights" or Mideast politics - it was, and could have been made to be seen, as a quasi-legal contractual issue. That is, the WTA could have brought the tournament to a grinding halt in a way that had nothing to do with Pe'er's nationality, and everything to do with the contract between the Dubai tournament and the WTA.
So with a combination of hindsight (and a healthy appreciation for just how easy it is for a journalist to sound like a know-it-all, or worse), I'm going to suggest that when the crisis erupted, Larry Scott should have conferred with his board of directors and rallied the troops, using all of his authority to insist that Dubai issue Pe'er the visa or fold the tournament, on the grounds that the tournament was in violation of its sanction.Pe'er may not have been a top contender for the title, but players far less likely have won tournaments no less significant - and that's a matter of fact.
And when forced to address the obvious political issue, Scott should have just said: This has nothing to do with the nationality of Shahar Pe'er, or the WTA's institutional view of the Arab-Israeli conflict; the WTA would have been forced to issue the same ultimatum had a Canadian, Chinese, or Iranian player been similarly denied.
That would have put the collapse of the event squarely on the shoulders of the Dubai promoters (and for those of you who care about such things, it would have lessened the public relations disaster that this affair must have become for the title sponsor, Barclay's bank).
Instead, Scott blinked.
One helpful parallel here might be the history of the 1973 Wimbledon boycott. That also was a case of a single, not exactly iconic player (Nikki Pilic) from a relatively obscure nation (the former Yugoslavia) being denied entry to a tournament. The reason Pilic was barred was certainly less explosive and, to many, less inherently offensive. Pilic had bickered with his national association and was accused of refusing to represent Yugoslavia in a Davis Cup tie (a charge he vigorously denied), so the Yugoslav federation suspended him. The ILTF (back then, it was still the International Lawn Tennis Federation) backed its member federation, which meant that Pilic was not allowed to compete at Wimbledon (owing to the way the tournaments and ILTF were entwined at that time).
Very few people expected that the emerging ATP and its players would risk missing what was then still far and away the most important of all tennis tournaments. So, while it was for entirely different reasons, Wimbledon and the ITF really made the same calculations that must have played a part in Dubai's gamble: It's crazy, why would all these big international stars pass up all the glory and money just to stand behind one of their bretheren?
As it turned out, the person most astonished by the ATP's decision to fight and, ultimately, boycott, was the man at the center of the controversy, Pilic. When Wimbledon started, 79 players - the vast majority of whom could hardly be described as stakeholders in the proceedings - answered the fledgling ATP's call and observed the boycott. That included 13 of the original 16 seeds.
The most conspicuous "scab" of them all was Jimmy Connors, who felt antipathy toward the ATP and it's top stars (men like Rod Laver, Stan Smith, John Newcombe, Arthur Ashe). And then there was a new, teen-aged face out of Sweden, Bjorn Borg, who didn't know from ATP or boycotts or any of that other stuff. And here's the political backstory: at the time, the Iron Curtain was still a very real - and formidable - entity. The Soviet Russia held sway in its own dominion, and it was working overtime to score propaganda points on the international sporting stage.
In tennis, the Soviet bloc nations danced an elaborate waltz with the ILTF, seeking to enhance their credibility and reap the rewards of athletic glory (which included much-cherished hard currency) - even as they felt no kinship with the nations where institutions like the ILTF were created, and flourished. As a result, many of the best players at Wimbledon in 1973 were from the eastern bloc, and under orders (and intense pressure) from their home associations to ignore the call for a boycott. The penalty for bucking the association in an Iron Curtain nation was revocation of all international traveling privleges - or worse.
Ultimately, Ilie Nastase of Romania, already an international star became, with Connors, the co-favorite to win Wimbledon. Alex Metreveli of Russia and Jan Kodes, of the nation then known as Czechoslovakia, were also highly touted.
Nastase couldn't handle the pressure; he was beaten in the round-of-16 by Stanford University star Sandy Mayer. Metreveli and Kodes fared better - the former upset Connors in the quarterfinals, but ended up losing in the final to Kodes, a worthy player by any standard.
The most striking thing about this review of 1973 is the solidarity shown by the ATP players. Although Wimbledon that year was still a success, the All-England Club and the ITF both realized that the price was high. The boycott established the ATP as a force in the game, almost overnight, and it helped accelerate the process by which the archaic, complicated, bureaucracy-heavy game eventually became streamlined and, in the best sense of the word, professional.
This is a different era, of course. And let's remember that the women to some degree blazed the trail for the ATP men in 1970, when Glady Heldman conceived the Virginia Slims Tour and convinced a disgruntled Billie Jean King and her consorts to sign contracts to play that tour - at the risk of banishment from the majors. Maybe there's neither a call for, nor an appreciation of, the kind of activism that the men and women tennis players of the early 1970s demonstrated as they helped usher in the Open era and create the entity now known generically as the tour.
Certainly, those progenitors had a lot more to gain (financially) than today's lavishly compensated stars. And the pioneers of pro tennis undoubtedly felt a stronger sense of solidarity; that's something you create, not an idea that you embrace. Maybe the current system has placed such golden handcuffs on the players that rebellion against it is simply unthinkable. The players may have created a system close enough to the ideal that confronting it seems self-destructive; suicide by the goose that lays the golden eggs. In just a few decades, tennis has not only offered a significant number of players a handsome living, it's also become the springboard from which a robust handful of stars of either gender have vaulted to a degree of fame and fortune most of their forerunners could hardly even imagine.
Still, I can't help but think the WTA could have really enhanced its stature and garnered a tremendous amount of international goodwill (and the attendant interest) if it had stood up to the Dubai promoters. And, of course, I can't help but also think of Shahar Pe'er, and how nice it might have been for her to wake up that morning about 10 days ago and feel a little bit like Nikki Pilic did when he learned that his cohorts were not about to leave him hung out and twisting in the wind.
But that was in another time, in another country.
 By TW Contributing Editor, Ed McGrogan
Last Week's Tournaments
Copa Telmex (ATP - Clay - Buenos Aires, Argentina)
Singles Bracket: Tommy Robredo def. Juan Monaco
Doubles Bracket: Marcel Granollers/Alberto Martin def. Nicolas Almagro/Santiago Ventura
Open 13 (ATP - Indoor Hard - Marseille, France)
Singles Bracket: Jo-Wilfried Tsonga def. Michael Llodra
Doubles Bracket: Arnaud Clement/Michael Llodra def. Julian Knowle/Andy Ram
Regions Morgan Keegan Championships (ATP - Indoor Hard - Memphis, United States)
Singles Bracket: Andy Roddick def. Radek Stepanek
Doubles Bracket: Mardy Fish/Mark Knowles def. Travis Parrott/Filip Polasek
Barclays Dubai Tennis Championships (WTA - Hard - Dubai, United Arab Emirates)
Singles & Doubles Brackets
- Venus Williams def. Virginie Razzano
- Cara Black/Liezel Huber def. Maria Kirilenko/Agnieszka Radwanska
Copa Sony Ericsson Colsanitas (WTA - Clay - Bogota, Colombia)
Singles & Doubles Brackets
- Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez def. Gisela Dulko
- Nuria Llagostera Vives/Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez def. Gisela Dulko/Flavia Pennetta
Regions Morgan Keegan Championships (WTA - Indoor Hard - Memphis, United States)
Singles & Doubles Brackets
- Victoria Azarenka def. Caroline Wozniacki
- Victoria Azarenka/Caroline Wozniacki def. Yuliana Fedak/Michaella Krajicek
McGrogan's Heroes
ATP - Andy Roddick
Age clearly means nothing to Radek Stepanek. He's dating Nicole Vaidisova, 11 years his junior, and is playing the best tennis of his career at age 30, when most players are on the decline.
While Jo-Wilfried Tsonga and Tommy Robredo were winning their second titles of the 2009 season Sunday, Stepanek was going for his third tournament win of the year in Memphis. (The Czech previously won Brisbane and San Jose.) The last player "The Worm" needed to burrow past in order to achieve this hat trick was Andy Roddick, whom Stepanek defeated just a week earlier in San Jose. As it turned out, Stepanek will remain level with Tsonga and Robredo at two titles each - Roddick won the final, 7-5, 7-5, earning his first winner's trophy of 2009.
The title is overdue for Roddick, who has played some spectacular tennis so far this year. Besides his run to the Australian Open semifinals, Roddick reached the semis of San Jose, and the final of Doha, back in January. His record for the season is now 17-3, including quality wins in Memphis over Steve Darcis, Robby Ginepri, Sam Querrey, Lleyton Hewitt, and finally Stepanek. That's a good week's work, and Roddick should certainly be considered a serious threat at Indian Wells and Miami, especially with Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer suffering from injuries.
I also want to commend Roddick for his decision to withdraw from this week's Dubai tournament. In case you missed it, Roddick was disappointed with how the UAE handled Shahar Peer's request to compete in the WTA event, and subsequently pulled out of this week's ATP event. This was not a factor in him receiving the Hero award - but in an era where words, and not actions, are given far too much credence in sports, Roddick's decision was refreshing, regardless of where you stand on the issue.
WTA - Venus Williams
If you count their doubles victories, Victoria Azarenka and Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez each won nine times (and two titles) last week. Venus Williams won just five matches, but she gets the Hero nod this week because of the quality of her wins. To make a comparison to tennis racquets, Williams' wins in Dubai were the freshly-strung Babolat at the pro shop; Azarenka's and Martinez Sanchez's were the over-sized Wilson at Wal-Mart.
While that may sound harsh, Williams faced elite competition throughout the week, not just in the tournament's final. And Williams, even considering all her abilities, handled these opponents with surprising ease. After dusting Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova 6-0, 6-1, she defeated both Alize Cornet and Elena Dementieva (the 10th and fourth seeds, respectively) in straight sets. She then outlasted sister Serena in a third-set tiebreaker, taking a 10-9 lead in their career matches (Venus has now won three of the last four) and advancing to the Dubai final.
You know how when people sometimes refer to a semifinal match between two big names as "the de facto final"? I really dislike that term, because often, the winner suffers a letdown when she ends up playing her so-called lesser opponent. Virginie Razzano, ranked No. 58 heading into Dubai, was waiting in the actual final after having upset Dinara Safina, Daniela Hantuchova, Vera Zvonareva, and Kaia Kanepi in consecutive matches. But Williams would not make the same mistakes as those four did against Razzano. The sixth-ranked American put in another solid performance, beating Razzano 6-4, 6-2 to win her 40th career singles title.
It doesn't seem right to call Williams' fantastic play - along with Razzano's unforeseen run to the final - a silver lining to an event marred by the decision to deny Shahar Peer a travel visa. But it was one of the only good things to come out of the WTA's Dubai Tennis Championship last week.
Next Week's Tournaments
(TV Schedule)
Abierto Mexicano Telcel (ATP - Clay - Acapulco, Mexico)
Singles Bracket
Doubles Bracket
Barclays Dubai Tennis Championships (ATP - Hard - Dubai, United Arab Emirates)
Singles Bracket
Doubles Bracket
Delray Beach International Tennis Championships (ATP - Hard - Delray Beach, United States)
Singles Bracket
Doubles Bracket
Abierto Mexicano Telcel (WTA - Clay - Acapulco, Mexico)
Singles & Doubles Bracket
By Jackie, TW Social Director
[Programming note: Posting this a little earlier than planned since many of you are already tuning into all the red carpet "action."]
Welcome to our first TW Oscar party! Come on in and take a seat 'round the TV.
Last night I caught some of the Independent Spirit Awards, which saw The Wrestler and Mickey Rourke come away with Best Picture and Best Actor honors. Can I hope that this bodes well for Rourke tonight? (If not the film, which wasn't nominated. Tsk.) It'd serve me right if he didn't win, considering how much I keep talking about it!
Speaking of the Oscar nominations, you can see them all here. Any predictions? Here are some of mine: I'll go with Slumdog Millionaire (Best Picture), Mickey Rourke (Best Actor), Kate Winslet (Best Actress), Heath Ledger (Best Supporting Actor), and Penelope Cruz (Best Supporting Actress). Do I feel lucky?
Oops, I better tend to the snacks and drinks before all my guests arrive. Maybe I should just wait to see what everyone brings - I know jb's equipped with champagne and Beth is stopping by Spago for a few fancy pizzas (I hope one of them's vegetarian!).
Make yourself at home and feel free to gossip about the fashion hits and misses, give "play-by-plays" (it'll be like an Oscar match call!), critique the winners and losers ... whatever you please.
And try not to make too much of a mess, yeah? Have fun, everyone!
|
