Blog Entry — February 4, 2009
Nothing much happened last week. Probably because I spent most days working and then getting way too into Australian Open matches when I should be going to sleep at 3:30 a.m.
I say that for two reasons: 1) Getting up after noon every day sounds a lot better when you’re going to sleep at 6 a.m., and 2) I need an excuse to bring up the 50-inch plasma I mounted in my room.
I’ll never need the lights on again.
For the 15 of you who watch live tennis, this next bit is for you. Anyone else, feel free to skip down to the smiley face towards the bottom.
You’re welcome.
I was going to have everyone who watched tennis raise their hands. But then I realized how ridiculous that was.
If you’re raising your hands, you can’t send me emails thanking me for this amazing blog.
Why does blog get a red squiggly line? That’s a word. Unless Microsoft wants me to write out weblog? Nope. I got a red squiggly for spelling AND green for sentence fragment.
Web log? There we go.
Anyway, back to my web log — I have a weird fear of those squiggly lines. It’s the same fear I get when I check my cell phone after four hours and I have no missed calls or texts.
But if I do have a missed call from like 3-plus hours ago, I have some bitter friends. So I’m afraid either way.
Those upset friends are almost as bitter as Andy Roddick was during his semifinal with Roger Federer — how’d you like that segue?
Segue should be spelled “segway,” or pronounced “SEE-goo.”
But Roddick, in the Aussie semi with King Roger, challenged the officials calls a lot.
You get three uncorrect challenges in each set — I know, it’s too late to fix that now — so you see players raise their hands to challenge chair calls pretty frequently.
What I don’t get is the official video for the challenge.
It’s a cartoon.
Instead of going to some X-motion, 300-frame-per-second clip where you can clearly see the ball hit the ground and know, without question, if the call was right, you get an animated drawing and a shadow of where it hit.
Somehow, that’s official and no one complains.
If I had a call go against me in Grand Slam semifinal, I’d be a little salty if they turned to a five-year-old with a crayon to give me his rendition of whether or not I won the point.
For all you who are now emailing me the Wikipedia explanation of “Shot Spot” technology, go back to raising your hands.
=)
That smiley face was only for the benefit of the people up top. Tennis people, I **** you now, you don’t get a smiley.
Actually, that’s harsh. I’m only upset because we’ve been out of napkins at my townhouse for going on four days. Everyone who ate Tom’s buffalo chicken dip during the Super Bowl wiped us out.
Get it? Napkins? Wiped?
No napkins means no way for me to eat sandwiches. And I would marry a Brooklyn from The Deli in Fairfax if it were legal in Virginia.
Mix my love for sandwiches and my absence of napkins and you have a fairly bitter sportswriter.
I’ve been using junk mail envelopes to make my lunches on since we ran out — true story. But that makes for paper cuts when licking loose crumbs or jelly, depending on the sandwich.
Paper cuts on my tongue makes for a painful sandwich experience, especially with spicy mustard. But, God, it’s worth it.
Anyone who suggests me doing the dishes to eat my sandwiches off a plate, join the tennis people in raising your hands. You are now stuck on this page.
Forever.
Email: pmurphy@digitalsports.com
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