That was unquestionably one of the greatest tennis matches I have ever witnessed. But let's digest it a little bit and let the heat of the moment pass before we dub it "the greatest of all time." This one had a lot at stake, with a lot of underlying stories attached to it on the most prestigious stage in all of the sport. But I'm not ready to dismiss Agassi-Blake in the 2005 Open quarters just because we saw a match of its equal. -- Steve, New York, NY
The world's oldest tennis tournament retains many of the same customs and quirks 131 years after it was first staged. It's the only Grand Slam event still played on grass, despite perennial moans from the clay- and hard-court specialists who struggle to adjust. Players--who are always referred to as "gentlemen" and "ladies"--must wear predominantly white, and the courts are unsullied by conspicuous corporate logos.
It's been nearly two weeks, but the sports world is still buzzing over the Giants' last-minute victory over the Patriots in Super Bowl XLII. Eli Manning's third-down conversion to David Tyree has become the latest play talked about around the water cooler. How did Manning get away from those massive Patriot linemen, pass the ball to a tightly covered Tyree, who then somehow leaped into the air, grabbed the football with his fingertips, and managed to come down with it, all while juggling it off his helmet? Was it just phenomenal athleticism or just luck? Or maybe, in that enclosed stadium on a rainy afternoon in Arizona, it was their destiny.
That was unquestionably one of the greatest tennis matches I have ever witnessed. But let's digest it a little bit and let the heat of the moment pass before we dub it "the greatest of all time." This one had a lot at stake, with a lot of underlying stories attached to it on the most prestigious stage in all of the sport. But I'm not ready to dismiss Agassi-Blake in the 2005 Open quarters just because we saw a match of its equal. -- Steve, New York, NY
The world's oldest tennis tournament retains many of the same customs and quirks 131 years after it was first staged. It's the only Grand Slam event still played on grass, despite perennial moans from the clay- and hard-court specialists who struggle to adjust. Players--who are always referred to as "gentlemen" and "ladies"--must wear predominantly white, and the courts are unsullied by conspicuous corporate logos.
It's been nearly two weeks, but the sports world is still buzzing over the Giants' last-minute victory over the Patriots in Super Bowl XLII. Eli Manning's third-down conversion to David Tyree has become the latest play talked about around the water cooler. How did Manning get away from those massive Patriot linemen, pass the ball to a tightly covered Tyree, who then somehow leaped into the air, grabbed the football with his fingertips, and managed to come down with it, all while juggling it off his helmet? Was it just phenomenal athleticism or just luck? Or maybe, in that enclosed stadium on a rainy afternoon in Arizona, it was their destiny.
Tennis star Martina Hingis says she has been accused of testing positive for cocaine at Wimbledon, an accusation she calls "horrendous," the Associated Press reports.
Once upon a time there was a surface called "grass." It rewarded aggressive play, and people who served and volleyed and returned and came in did very well. People who sliced and came to the net, like Martina Navratilova, were almost unstoppable when they got on a roll. Since the grass at Wimbledon is so slow, wouldn't it be "fair" to speed up the kitty litter-like surface called "clay" that the rest of the world is so enamored with?
WIMBLEDON, England -- Cleaning out the notebook from a wild and wet Wimbledon. Some random notes and thoughts, trying to incorporate as many of your questions as possible.
Let's pretend you are, say, an insurance salesman. You're damn good at your job, world-class even. You clock in every day. You miss family functions on account of work. You try like hell to improve your performance rating and keep ascending the ladder. But there are these two colleagues -- siblings, no less! -- blocking your progress. They seem to pop into the office only when the mood strikes. They miss all the meetings and those insufferable "team building" outings because they're off acting or designing clothes or doing Lord knows what else. They take lots of sick leave, too. But when there's money on the table, they're the best around. They swoop in, perform with breathtaking skill and close the biggest accounts. Argh!
WIMBLEDON, England -- In the sheltered world of professional athletes, sometimes we need a reality check. Outside of the locker rooms, practice courts and VIP lounges we inhabit on a daily basis, there's a world that exists that we seem to be protected from and even ignore from time to time. Until it becomes personal.
In this hyper-commercialized age, let's acknowledge just how aberrational it is for a sporting event to forego play on a Sunday. As rain continued Saturday, it looks as though play won't resume here until Monday. Herewith, our marks from the first week at Wimbledon.
So I arrived on the grounds Friday morning and, in the wake of last night's car bomb scare in downtown London, the security was tighter than Tim Henman in a fifth set. (Cheap shot. Sorry.)
A quick preliminary note to clear up some confusion: While Wimbledon doesn't follow the rankings to seed players, the seedings are not "subjective" or based on the whims of crusty committee members. There is a formula, and it is explained here:
LONDON -- Wimbledon means Roger Federer time. The world's No. 1 player has won the last four and is undeniably the favorite for a fifth. Beyond him is a small, elite group of players who are capable of hoisting the trophy at the end of the fortnight.
LONDON -- Grass-court season has arrived, and I couldn't be happier. Once June arrives, the clay-court shoes of spring are tossed aside in exchange for the pimpled-bottomed soles for the grass court of England.
It happens every year. That smug bastard in the next office scores amazing seats to some exotic sporting event, then spends months regaling everyone with tales from his adrenaline-fueled travels.
It happens every year. That smug bastard in the next office scores amazing seats to some exotic sporting event, then spends months regaling everyone with tales from his adrenaline-fueled travels.
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