Next Subject?
No more tennis.
Now I am going to talk about baseball.
Wrong.
July 7, 2008
July 3, 2008
Aliens at Wimbledon
Now we know why my favorite Polish tennis star lost the other day.
Radwanska was only 19. Now, life in ruins.
Pods. Space invaders.
Mummy-faced aliens bringing us yet another all-Williams final Saturday.
Thank God I won't be watching it.
June 29, 2008
Tennis Thoughts on an Idle Sunday
Agnieszka Radwanska will probably disappear from the scratchpad of history, but while she's around, I take notice. Hits the ball clean. Admirable disposition.
Plus she's cute as all get out, and sexy.
I am completely in control of myself. This fiction about women making men blind is a dark, dark secret.
Not sure about that hairdo. Bette Midler does Warsaw? I'll let that slide.
But sultry eyes are a slam dunk. Nineteen and experimenting with mascara.
I know several readers out there are tired of tennis, but we are in the middle of Wimbledon. Either that or ESPN's boring sixty minutes of baseball.
The players I like are still alive, except for the dead ones.
Here is what Agnieszka Radwanska is thinking in her hotel room:
"How do I beat the russian bear?"
This is before she cleaned out that little refrigerator.
All I got from my interview was a hiccup.
Svetlana Kuznetsova, just another masculine woman whose unpronounceable name ends in "a." No amount of mascara is going to help her, and she knows it, which is why she is so dangerous.
!
!
V
<--- Back to Agnieszka's inner thoughts:
"I don't think I can win. But I have my black dress all picked out for the champions dinner and dance with Roger.
I wonder if he'll propose.
Ten minutes with me and his longstanding girlfriend will be history.
Perhaps that's why I'm never invited over.
Don't tell me that girlfriend for fifteen years has that much of a hold on him.
Maybe I should try a different look, or wax one of the Williams sisters for emphasis.
First things first. If a Wimbledon 4th-round match were to fall in my favor against Ms. Testosterone, guys will emerge excitedly from the woodwork.
Then I'll have to decide which ones to disappoint.
If I win one more time, Mark might quit his infatuation with Kristin Chenoweth and Stevie Nicks, midwestern romances, and devote more time to my favorite sport, which is actually chess."
Stop thinking too much, Agnieszka. I've seen your legs and also your driver's license. The birth year is shockingly recent. You are very pretty, but that's not enough.
"Why?"
"Just, you know, grow into your twenties for starters."
"Fine."
"And what's with this Roger, Roger, Roger stuff? Don't you like middle aged rocket scientists?"
"I suppose they are fine as long as they last."
That's it:
Sob into a pillow. Get back to me in fifteen years. Relieve your father from that sawed-off shotgun.
Maybe better to remember your homeland's heritage of being invaded from the East ten thousand times.
Seek revenge.
Win something. Turn up on a Wheaties box. Try escalating from the top fifty to the top ten.
"Oh Mark, you just don't care about me as a person."
Yes I do, if you'll be so kind as to dismiss a Williams sister. That's all I request of any deity with the slightest sense of mercy.
"Fine."
Fine.
"Get mad now."
"I am."
<---- Ya know, she's really pretty good.
If this coolest chick from Krackow somehow manages to sneak in a victory and get to the quarterfinals, watch out for classic chokers, such as Elena Dementieva.
She will ruin your day every time.
Don't let me be the one to advise Poles to guard their backs, what with that stellar history in terms of not being surprise attacked.
I don't worry about Agnieszka's poise. Not afraid of Russian choke jobs.
Oh, did I mention russian puff cakes for choke jobs?
------->
I can't let a demeaning comment go when the lure floats in front of my nose.
Poor Elena Dementieva. I've never felt more sorry for anyone in my life. God bless her, she hits a great shot then double faults. Every time for ten thousand years.
Her misery, in the Greek archetype sense, persuaded me to develop a derivative of her name as a passport to a password for poor online investments.
It's sick because I like her, want her to do well, and I hate tennis and why do you keep bringing it up?
We return you now to your regular blog reading.
Because you don't need a sports inside reporter's claim on the state of the Women's Tennis Association, although I should get paid for the golden nuggets I hold under my mattress.
I refuse to close this post before uttering the hope that Agnieszka might americanize her name.
But that would turn her into an Aggie. I dunno. College Station, that white hat. Predisposition for always coming out on top.
As a University of Texas Alumni, I, and certainly my brother and sis-in-law, would find that unacceptable.
Back to Krakow, baby.
<--- Miss Radwanska has a pretty ball toss, and a little extension goes a long way.
Cool customer too. Composure can't really be taught. You either have it or turn into Joan Cusack, the controlled crazy.
If Agnieszka could simply mangle syllables into vowels, give a guy's jaw room to breathe, garner one or two big wins...
Stop being so hard on the eyes.
Not saying she looks like Maria or Ana, but THEY ARE BOTH OUT AREN'T THEY? Losers.
Ag's implacable coolness on court drives me crazy, as if we were not discussing how hard her name is to pronounce.
All kidding aside, the kid is cool under pressure.
Calmer than me screaming from my living room, "hit the backhand up the line and go to net!"
I know she's just brimming inside, desirous of a polka.
I tried to polka once.
I fell down.
You may say to me,
"Mark, Mark, Mark - she's a young Polish girl, applauding your Dennis Miller T-Shirt."
I say, I've always wanted to be a potato farmer, as long as the wife earns $500,000 per year and comes home every night.
June 27, 2008
Agnieszka Radwanska
I like to think I can pick em.
This is one cool chick with a hard-to-pronounce name.
She stared down Nadia Petrova two weeks ago. I've seen a lot of tennis matches in my time. That was a display of the utmost poise, and she won.
That seems to be key, winning.
Maria and Ana will have their time.
As for the wedding invitation this might proffer to curiosity, I prefer the love-dance of consecutive consonants strung together in a tongue-baffling bereavement of words tangled and torn, green on soft white paper.
Remember the name. "Aggie" owns her small space of brilliance at the moment.
How many Polish girls does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Zero. They hire it out to Slovakians after winning tennis matches.
Ta-dum. Good thing she has a sense of humor.
Actually, Poland possesses some of the nicer weatherwomen, even if their attire comes from the Eastern Block equivalent of Walmart.
Subdued verbal inflections.
She's probably not going further, but it's shocking how much I like her, and I continue to remain amazed to discover Poland has the internet.
Flat screen technology as well.
I don't know, Mark.
"Flat" screen technology indeed. And an oh-too-vociferous insistence on linguistic pleasures of verbs of motion.
For me, the celsius system is easier to adopt, because there aren't as many numbers as the Farenheit system. It's like having a bra size of "whatever."
This tends to amuse lacklusters around the world, speaking of which...
How many American lazy males does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Zero. They hire their Polish girlfriends to hire Slovakians to call Home Depot.
I'm not the one sitting in a chair WATCHING Wimbledon.
I'm not the one formulating vast decisions about shirts that need ironing in the dog room.
I'm hardly the one to email weather forecasters in Krackow, and that's my aunt by the way.
Awful
I would say that Maria's "performance" was unbelievably bad, but that would be giving the girl more credit than she deserves.
That was the worst tennis I've ever had the non-privilege of witnessing, and the obvious evidence lays down these facts:
* Girl is 21 years old, mega-millionaire
* All she has, and all she has ever had, is to stand there, serve, shriek usually for no reason, smack the ball either left or right, and if it goes in - great.
* She is a 6'2" porcelain doll who can't move, has no concept of grace, no ability to adapt her "A" plan, completely one dimensional
* She half expects the world to become her oyster, but the other girls, who are actually good tennis players, don't see life the same way.
And you know what? Most observers would think to themselves, "a loss like this is devastating. She'll go back to basics, improve."
But I don't think so.
I honestly believe this girl got lucky, pulled the golden ring a few times, and is destined to melt into a capable fashion model with a camera and a dog.
She was the pretty girl for a while. Now it is Ana Time.
It's kind of sad to see someone fall. I don't relish it. We all rise and fall, usually without the consolation of enough money in the bank to absorb distraught tears.
The other girls are going to push her out of the way now.
There is absolutely no excuse for milking talent, training, all the blessings thousands would kill for, and walk out there, open up her Vogue outfit, and put on the most disgraceful flail of fluttering ineptitude.
God-given wonders don't come every day, nor liberally spread across humanity. And if a person here or there is touched, then I feel they owe it not only to themselves, but to you and me, to honor that gift, and try.
But reality is - when you've got so much, inner inspiration can fly away like a dove.
June 9, 2008
Credit Where Credit is Due
Too good.
June 8, 2008
Nice When Things Work Out
"Never Let You Down" - David Bowie<--- MP3
Not to berate a theme forever, and I know I'm risking wrath of God with this.
Not to berate a theme forever, and I know I'm risking wrath of God with this.Ana Ivanovic. There, I said it out loud.
Try to find me, you Google robots. I .... um.... dare you.
Crashing servers in southern California last week wasn't enough, where of course we know it never rains.
Serbian lawyers pounding on my door.
Clear Lake Reflections lives on the edge.
As for "hard on the eyes Ana," girl won it all, firmly entrenched as the new number one in the world, as I TOLD you.
Why don't you ever listen Maria?
The blog is back. So far.
I will relate travails at some other juncture, thank you. Quite the roller-coaster ride of wide-eyed ignorance.
All you need to know about Google is this:
Don't mess with those guys.
They are serious about taking over the world and have scant patience for mincemeat mice.
Federer gets another try at Nadal today.
Possibly fruitless, but if you own a townhouse in Dubai, who am I to argue?
Or will the French Open prove forever beyond his grasp, and just move on to Wimbledon and kick the crap out of Andy Roddick again?
June 7, 2008
Welcome Back to Clear Lake Reflections
Ana won the French Open.
Ironic, since it was one of her pictures on my site that crashed my blog.
I might write more about the techie aspects later.
For now, just glad to be back in blogworld. :)