Why did you have to lose to Justine Henin? Why weren’t you smacking the ball as hard as they come like you usually do? Why did you have to come off especially bitchy at the post-game interview? I won’t yell at you like I yell at James Blake as he has been nothing but a river of disappointment to me tennis-wise (but way to cheat death, James. You’ve got skills there.) But Justine Henin? That cheatin’ Justine Henin? And I had to listen to John McEnroe and Tracey Austin go on and on and on about how brilliant Justine is and her little footsteps and her grace and how compelling her family drama is and her coach who she’s had since she was 14 and how fascinatingly wonderfully fascinating she is! She’s practically magical!
Of course she also kept serving into the net. (But she made those aces when the dumping into the next was killing her.) But no mention of that. Just how brilliant she was with occasional mentions of how the crowd seemed out of it and that Serena seemed lackluster. Nevermind Serena and her sister and Venus were the only remaining American women in the tournament. Which just happens to be the … um … US OPEN. So while I don’t expect McEnroe to openly hate on Belgium when Justine enters the court, he could at least FAKE like he gives a crap if an American woman wins the damn US Open. The French like it when a French player is in the hunt during the French Open. The Brits love their players. And McEnroe has been bitching for the last few years about the dearth in American mens tennis since only James “The Flake” Blake and Andy “I Choke Faster Than Blake Can Choke” Roddick remain in a world without the bland, but unbeatable Pete Sampras.
He cries and whines about how there are no American men in it. But nothing? Nothing, people, for Serena? She’s from COMPTON, CALIFORNIA for chrissakes. You cannot get any more American than if you’re the daughter of a former slave and your last name happens to be “Washington.” As American than a portrait of Marylin Monroe with cornrows holding a fried apple pie from McDonalds and chugging a Bud Light.
Sure. It’s not pretty, fake, cute, delicate America taking tiny steps of genius. It’s real America and real America will kick your ass.
Except for last night. Last night America couldn’t get off her toes. But tonight America is Venus tonight and she’s coming off a win at Wimbledon.
And America is gonna kick that ass. (I hope. Because Venus, love her, but she’s gotta bad second serve.)