over on my eljay, the lovely watercolourblue asked me to do a meme wherein she gives me 5 words that remind her of me and then i do a post about what they mean to me. two of the five words she gave me are tennis related, so i reproduce them here.
Tennis
Tennis is calculating timezones, waking up at 0400 for a match… that you’ll follow on livescore, it’s yelling at the laptop/telly, it’s trying not to cry, it’s sunshine on your window, it’s ripping your heart to shreds, it’s defending your favourites, it’s LOLing at tennistas, it’s GOAT debates and head to heads, it’s Grand Slams and it’s THE GRAND SLAM. It’s Wimbledon. It’s 2008. It’s Rafael Nadal. It’s ‘my famous ass’. It’s careera. It’s my mother’s gift to me. It’s in her recollection of Ivan Lendl and her awful, almost unwatchable VHS tapes of Borg, Wilander and the others. it’s BJK. It’s Mauresmo and her backhand. It’s running around Vienna during the Olympics, trying to find a Starbucks with free Wi-Fi to watch the tennis. It’s Henin and her retirement that is not a retirement. Same for Clijsters. It’s laughing at WTA. It’s loving the WTA. It’s McDonalds. It’s the pretty Caro and the Vika and the laughing at Masha. It’s JJ’s boyfriend and her clothes. It’s the surprise finalist at AO. It’s MoLay. It’s MoLay icecream. It’s tennis blogs and tennis snark. it’s twittering during a match. It’s dodgy knees that keep you worrying, derail your life and make you awfully, awfully, awfully sad. It’s managing your whole life around the playing schedule and grudging things when they won’t comply. It’s psycho OMGness on tennis boards. It’s ZERO perspective. It’s panda eyes from going to bed at past 0100 and then waking up at 0600 for more tennis. It’s crazy awesome chair umpires. It’s putting chair umpires on the burnlist. It’s hating Justin Gimelstob. It’s laughing at Ernests Gulbis. It’s bloody Peter Bodo. It’s brackets. It’s French Open 2005. And 2006. And 2007. And especially 2008. It’s ignoring 2009 from Miami until Montreal. It’s white and strawberries and cream. It’s the Church of the Russian Sex God. It’s smashed racquets. It’s ontd_tennis. It’s Richardgate. It’s a fauxhawk. It’s the Armada. It’s the Frenchies. It’s the unknown. It’s WHY DOES SAM QUERREY NEED AN INTERN? It’s Simon’s piano playing. It’s ‘you cannot be serious’. It’s knowing who the commie is by their accent. It’s i heart rafa. It’s wonderful fellow fans. It’s psychopathic fans. It’s spamming Robin Soderling’s twitter. It’s infinite sadness when Rafa is injured. It’s RAFAWATCH when he’s on hols and we miss him so. It’s watching for the retirement slam. It’s pinky glittery caps. It’s ranking points. It’s nipple tassels. It’s Wimbledon 2008. It’s my life on a court.
Rafa
Rafa is- see: tennis. Rafa is a huge bar of chocolate after the worst day. A bar of chocolate that doesn’t make you fat, only gives you the glow. Rafa is the first snow. Rafa is rain in the Abu Dhabi desert: always fucking fantastic. Rafa is acing an exam you didn’t study for. Rafa is ‘classes cancelled’. Rafa is that exact instant when you’re looking into the eyes of a boy you fancy to bits, and he leans in to kiss you and in your head you’re dancing and singing and doing that really obnoxious looking thing you do when you’re absolutely delighted. Rafa is the explosions that go off in your head when that boy kisses you. Every. Single. Time. Rafa is when you’re on the treadmill and hating yourself for not being able to last for more than fifteen minutes..when you remember Hamburg ‘08, USO ‘07, AO ‘09, Wimbly ‘07 + ‘08… and you can push yourself a little harder, for a little longer. Rafa is ‘always be with colm’. Rafa is ‘always try your best’. Rafa is, ‘your defeats give your victories meaning’. Rafa is unicorns, rainbows, puppies and your the teddy your grandma gave you. Rafa is the sh*t-eating grin after he beats Federer. Rafa is the sh*t-eating grin whenever he wins. Rafa is the happy. A Rafa victory is the bestest birthday present ever. Rafa is making you cry because his knees hurt. Rafa is making you want to hunt down stupid journalists. Rafa is wanting to cry when he plays his first match post-injury. Rafa is smacking people who call him ‘uni-dimensional’. Rafa is when you get out your pencil and threaten to stab people in the eye for saying he was ‘done’- his game was just too rough on his body. Rafa is feeling as though your heart is going to burst. Rafa is a raspberry sorbet. Rafa is your favourite sandwich. Rafa is drooling on your keyboard. Rafa is ‘akhox2upsk;’als’dpqIOSP[KS;LSK’ because you don’t know how to react to Rafa love. Rafa is ‘it must be love’. Rafa is an awful JMac ad. Rafa is an awkward V is for Victory campaign. Rafa is wanting to SQUEEEEEEEEEEE. Rafa is frazzling for no reason. Rafa is hugging a giggle. Rafa is comfort food- always exactly what you need. Rafa is your favourite book. Rafa is sillies. Rafa is – there are no appropriate words to describe the adorableness of Rafa Nadal. Life with Happy! Uninjured! Rafa is >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Life x infinity.
