So, where do you all stand on plastic shoes?

You know those "Crocs" semi-clog, rubber/plastic shoes that appear to be the latest variation on the Birkenstock model? They're probably the stupidest-looking shoes on the planet (those screaming colors don't help, either), but I found that they're totally the bomb for little kids, like my Luke. I got him a pair (the Airwalk version, which I found at our local Payless outlet on Broadway) a few months ago, and we were so happy with them that I returned last week to get him a few more pair.

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Shoes

Shoes

While there, I saw a pair of brown, slip-on loafers in the men's aisle and my eyes almost bugged out when I saw the price - $19.99. So I scarfed them up, chortling about my prowess as a bargain-hunter. And man, were they ever comfortable, right out of the box. So I started waving them around, and raving about my deal, when Lisa got home from work. Her first question was, "Are they real leather?"

Well, that stopped me short. I checked. Turns out they're some kind of plastic, but they sure could have fooled me (clearly, they did fool me).

But my real question about plastic shoes is, "Is it really that bad?"

I mean, nothing about these shoes screams, "former Bulgarian-based agent for STASI!!!" In fact, they have square toes, and how hip is that? - finally, I could ante up with the sharp-dressed guys at the office (that would be Jon Levey and Steve Tignor; James Martin is as hopeless as I am). And let's remember, some of our animal-rights and/or vegetarian Elders (Momofan, Samantha?) surely would approve this?

I can think of a few real advantages to plastic over leather: if they fall overboard or into  a river, they're more likely to float. They require no break-in. They're  "green" in that you can probably make them from discarded take-away Chinese food containers. A critic would have to get down on his or her hands and knees and bite a piece of the shoe off to know for sure it's not leather. Then there's the price. . .

So am I an anti-fashion fashion victim, or merely visionary who has seen the fashion future and recognized that it is everyday footwear (as opposed to those all important hunting boots!)  made from petroleum by-products?

Shall we move on? Perusing the comments of the weekend, I notice that the "Hott Hott" discussion has really been rolling. It's kind of cool that the Tribe's womenfolk have no compunctions about posting their thoughts on the physical appeal of certain male pros, much like men traditionally have had no problem (talk about understatement!) extolling the bodily virtues of certain female players. Instead of morose, dogmatic prudes posting shrill complaints and charges about sexism and superficiality, readers of either gender get to share their thoughts on sex appeal and beauty. Now that's what I call "progressive."

A number of readers have asked how to find the ESPN site where I will be contributing bi-weekly blog posts. Here's the link. To navigate to it from the home page, just click on the "more +" tab on the toolbar at the top, then select tennis from the drop-down menu; it will take you to the page I just linked to. There is some question about whether you will have to be a subscriber to ESPN, The Magazine to view the blog (that appears to be the case for Paul Goldstein's blog). I've been assured that the tennis blogs will be free and open to all readers.

Sneak preview: my first post for ESPN will take up an issue not previously covered in our recent, spirited debate on the GOAT and Roger Federer vs. Pete Sampras issue. . .

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Lendl

Lendl

I'm alway amazed at the interest elicited by the mention of former players, as well as by the degree to which so much of our younger readers have impressions of those players based on what appears to be a kind of hearsay- that is, the former players seem to be shrouded in more mystery than I would have imagined.

This may be a generational thing: we have a crystal-clear picture of - and opinions about - Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. But not Ivan Lendl.

The comments reflect that. But it seems that the Bjorn Borgs and Vitas Gerulaitises and Evonne Goolagongs have receded into the mists not just of memory but history - as if even the substantial body of writing about them no longer seems entirely reliable, because there is no live image from Wimbledon or Flushing Meadow to associate with the history. I think I'll have to re-visit some of those marquee names in upcoming posts.

Anyway - I have a lunch date. Back later with some thoughts on the WTA Championships, which start tomorrow. . .