Young'uns

(Ed. note - There will be no Australian Open Crisis Center post today; Steggy is busy preparing the nest for Fake Birks, who's being released from the hospital today. I don't know what they set bail at - PB)

Mornin', Tribe. I'm leaving for Melbourne tomorrow, and the logistics are starting to bear down on me: better buy that airline ticket, and remember to pack tomorrow morning. My preferred MOA is to go forth bearing books, buy some clothes on a credit card when I get wherever I'm going, and then just burn them when I leave. Nothing beats traveling light, but neither Lisa nor the accountants at Tennis will support me in this any longer. Also, I'm hoping to hook up with Viv Down Under, so if anybody's in touch with her, please let her know.

Some afterthoughts on yesterday's action: It was a pity to see Wayne Arthurs have to quit his match against Mardy Fish. If you missed the unfortunate and bizarre episode, you can catch up here.  Wayne must be incredibly frustrated, and now Mardy has David Ferrer (watch this guy, he's a genuine threat to block Andy Roddick's seemingly pre-ordained route to the semifinals, where the winner would play Roger Federer).

But you know what? I think The Mighty Fed has his work cut out, too: two young'uns (hope that satisfies all you anti-"Young Guns" folks!) lie in wait to ambush TMF: Novak Djokovic and Richard Gasquet. After past losses, The Djoker has made some remarks worthy of the retort,  "And what planet did you say you were from again?" But I'll take his delusional outbreaks any day over the warm and fuzzy "I am Yo-nahs, but still I am not worthy" school of Fedflattery. Here's the Djoker's assessment:

If I go with the white flag on the court, what I'm doing here? I'm aware that Roger is the best in the world. I have nine wins in a row now, but that doesn't mean if I play Federer that I'm going to stop here, that...I'm already giving up. I will do everything to win.

That's the spirit, Novak! Now here's your blindfold and cigarette.

Let's look at some of today's prime match-ups; dissent from all the opinions expressed here will be welcome:

Rafael Nadal vs. Stanislas Wawrinka: This is no gimme for Jet Boy - not by a long shot. But then, who would you rather be playing, Stan the Man or Djokovic?

Fernando Gonzalez vs. Lleyton Hewitt: They're 2-2, career-wise, but all that was before Lleyton fell into the clutches of poetess Bec Cartwright. Maybe Gonzo's learned a thing or two since then. *Shrugs" Maybe not. . .

David Nalbandian vs. Sebastian Grosjean: Maybe it will get hot and David will decide, to heck with it. But it's hard to imagine any other scenario in which Grosjean wins.

Nikolay Davydenko vs. Fabrice Santoro: The pressures that come from living in the glare of the media spotlight and the impossibly high expectations imposed by his fans will not stop Kolya from  his destiny, which is taking all that cute stuff Fabrice throws out and shoving it right back down his throat.

Not to worry, Fabrice, Grand Slam No. 59 (Roland Garros) is right around the corner and you'll be able to drive to it!

James Blake vs. Robby Ginepri: This isn't looming as the gut-check match that Blake will need to survive in order to make people believe he really can win this thing, but it sure beats having to knock off a contender.

Tommy Haas vs. Florian Mayer: Florian Mayer. What is this guy, some kind of art dealer?

Andy Murray vs. Juan Ignacio Chela: This is exactly the kind of match that Murray must win to jump to the next level. I suggest packing a lunch. And make sure you hydrate. It could be a long one.

Tomas Berdych vsw. Dmitry Tursunov: I don't know if Tursunov has the Wilanders and I'm not sure Berdych even knows what month it is, so this is looming as a Guns R Us-quality shoot-out that will be a whole lot of fun without making a whole lot of sense.

Upset special: It's a close call, but I think Jet Boy will smack back enough returns to hold off Wawrinka, so I'm going with Chela over Murray - but not with a whole lot of conviction.

I'll check in with y'all later.