Ray: Let me start by observing that, you, Andrew, blatantly lied about your appearance on TW. Decrepit? Hardly - you barely look ancient.
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Anyway, I blearily rolled into IW on Saturday morning (emphatically not wearing black jeans, thanks Pete), and you told me that the joint was jumping from a bizarre Friday evening session. What the heck happened?
Andrew: Bizarre may be a kind word. I was in the stands for Murray vs. Haas. Haas has a very efficient classic game - Murray, not so much. The guy creates a kind of negative energy aura - if Federer gets people to play up above their level (though they still lose), then Murray induces a kind of anti-flow in his opponents. By the end of that extraordinary match, Haas didn't know if he was punchboard or countersunk, as my dad used to say.
Ray: Anti-flow, huh? Here's how the weekend started for me. It turns out that "sunny" California is a major understatement. Driving out into the desert Saturday morning, after running into Vin-dawg Spadea in West Hollywood, it struck me that the sun can kill you! Man, was it hot.
Anyway, I met Steggy and Pete, who were waiting for me in the parking lot. News flash: Pete looks a lot younger than his picture.
He gave me a handshake and a smile and made me feel like part of the team; he's a gem, Chief Pedro is. Steggy, well, she's a glamorous tennis journalist and five-star fixer rolled into one. She helped me
find items I'd somehow neglected to bring to the broiling desert, like sunglasses, hats, shorts, courts, Cokes, racquets, motels, and was just plain fun. Except when she made us stop drinking.
Steggy: I didn't make them stop drinking -- they shut down the bar!
Ray: Back to Saturday. Out on the practice courts, Roddick was hammering down serves that from ten feet away seemed outright dangerous. This ended up only increasing my respect for the man who later returned them.
In their semifinal Rafa simply hit a better ball than Andy, at the basic level of pace and topspin. He could also hit from an amazing variety of contact points, from the whip forehand off impossibly low
balls to kick-serve backhand returns seven feet in the air.
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Andrew, I know you could only see partially, what with your sheikh get-up of hat and headress:
But what say you?
Andrew: I could see enough that my respect for Nadal went way up. He was driving forward into every ball, taking it close to the baseline and early. He won on offense. Roddick played two sloppy service games, and that was all she wrote. But the match wasn't really as close as 6-4, 6-3. Big gap right now between No 2 and the rest of the pack, I'd say.
Ray: I agree -- though Roddick was way too loose in the two decisive breaks. Seems he's having trouble bringing his best on the big points in the big matches right now. Anyway, then we watched the women's final, which was a surprisingly balanced and intense performance from Daniela, who has great ankles. What was your take?
Andrew: I think Hantuchova has great ankles, shins, knees. And femurs.
She also controlled the match, and didn't blink when she had to close it out. Steggy said that Kuznetsova was complaining about the heat in the cafeteria. God knows what she made of the heat on the court.
Steggy: Svetlana was discussing the heat (and how much it impacted her previous match) with Lindsay Davenport -- who was very casual and glowing with health -- and Mary Jo Fernandez over pasta and salad.
Ray: Kuzzie's got great femurs, too. But neither of 'em were a patch on those Serbian flag-waving girls you innocently chatted up about mixed doubles. As a younger man, I admire your ability to think about these issues from a purely formal, aesthetic point of view.
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Andrew: Hey, you're not just younger, you're unattached. I was just trying to take out insurance against a whipping in our own Sunday Smackdown tennis at the Holiday Inn Express. Much good it did me: the girls didn't show, you passed me remorselessly with that two-handed backhand, and Steggy was there to record the damage. Never had you as a Hewitt kind of guy, but the camera never lies...
Ray: Well, sometimes the intensity just catches up with you. You should know, after hitting winner after winner and celebrating like the Raj:
Of course, I was handicapped by those shorts you lent me - forget shirtless Chucho, I shoulda gone shortless Stonada.
Steggy: Shortless or not, Ray is one hell of a volleyer. Good forehand, but he'd be wise to ditch the two-handed backhand in favor of a one-hander. Andrew's forehand is a beautiful thing, and his one-handed backhand is quite crisp.
Andrew: Well, we weren't keeping score on the fashion or tennis front, much to Pete's disgust. No warriors there! I think Djokovic must have wished the ATP wasn't keeping score in the first set.
Nadal came ready to play, and Djokovic came ready to - well, hit a 26% first serve percentage, take 2 of the first 18 points, and see the set whistle by. Not quite perfect, IMV.
Ray: The men's final was clearly the biggest match of young VertiDjoko's life, whereas for Nadal it wasn't close to the top five, and as we theorized the night before at the Beer Hunter, that differential pressure showed up as flatness for Djoko. He has more work to do in terms of managing his emotions in matches. But let's give some credit to Rafa, who'll probably take it and hit a screaming down the line forehand off it. His confidence and full aggression are definitely back.
Andrew: We both had Nadal at 65-70% for the win, so I don't think we were shocked. But we were impressed.
I got to do most of what I hoped on the trip, with the painful exception of not seeing Federer play. What were the odds he wouldn't even make the QF? (Powers up Cray, runs Impressive Tennis Software)
Maybe 25%. Oh well, ma'aleesh.
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I did get to meet you, Pete and Steggy. Ray, your online personality is a street-smart Italian New Yorker. Two out of three ain't bad.
Having a Tribe member next to you in the stands beats match calling. And hey, if you want me to play wingman next time with one of those Serbian girls, I'll grit my teeth for you, bud. We Englishmen will go the extra mile...
Steggy had the most memorable line of the week. Unfortunately it was delivered in the Beer Hunter, and I've forgotten it. I suspect the take-charge persona is a little bit of a mask for deep feeling, but can't hide real kindness.
Steggy: Quit ruining my evil reputation, Andrew! I believe the "memorable line" came when you and Ray were busy arguing Nadal/Roddick over your third or fourth drinks; it suddenly occured to me that I was experiencing TennisWorld.. only it was Live. :)
Andrew: Plus, the lady picked "Fables of the Reconstruction" as the standout R.E.M. album, so she has taste to burn.
If there was one surprise, it was the amount of time we got to hang with our electronic proprieter, Mr. Bodo. I honestly expected a quick handshake, maybe five minutes of friendly conversation, then off to business. Not a bit of it. I hope he had as good a time in our company as I had in his - including
a tour of Indian Wells to find an open toy store. And I trust Cowboy Luke got as much pleasure from his "Bob the Builder" as Cathleen did from her "Bratz" doll.
Anyhow, overall verdict: Rafael Nadal - my thumb is up. Murray, The Anti-Agassi (MTAA): up, when he's moving freely again. Men's doubles: down, it pains me to say it. Pete and Steggy: two thumbs, way, way up. Great company, great organizers, know a thing or two about tennis. A la prochaine, sir.
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Ray: I heartily second your thumbs, and add some of my own. Hantuchova and Djoko: both up after a long-awaited second title and a first career "speech match," respectively. Pete and Steggy: I add massive big ups to your thumbs. My crosscourt backhand: thumbs down. And finally, your daughter Cathleen: thumbs up, for excellent choice of dad. It was a pleasure hanging with you, esse.
--Ray and Andrew (and Steggy)