During Saturday's US Open Semi Final match, Serena Williams would have been best served by voluntarily stuffing the same ball into her mouth that she rudely offered to shove down the throat of a timid line judge.
A make-shift "tennis ball binky" probably would have saved the whining Ms. Williams an inevitable suspension. More importantly, the "fuzzy round pacifier" would have pre-empted the reigning champ's awkward threats and classless profanity laced tirade before a shocked Arthur Ashe Stadium Center Court crowd and a perplexed television audience.
Compounding her embarassing exit, the petty, potty-mouthed Williams pouted at the post match press conference, nervously fidgeting and never apologizing for her bratty boorish behavior. However, this petulance is what we've come to expect from Serena - YES, a world class tennis player and a winner of 11 Grand Slam tournaments, but, NO, not a champion YET... in the eyes of most until she learns to comport herself with dignity and grace.
Serena's recent temper tantrum only adds to a growing fan discontent for her feigning mystery injuries when beaten, criticizing the ratings sytem when she's not on top and failing to genuinely credit her victorious opponents.
The tennis powers must act swiftly and strongly against the shameless Serena.
Time to grow up, Serena. Watch your mouth, bite your lip and curb your tongue. You can do it!
Otherwise, a "tennis ball binky" should be the only piece of equipment you ever take to a match.
Straight talk. No static.
This is MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Showing posts with label US Open Tennis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label US Open Tennis. Show all posts
Monday, September 14, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Grunting's Gotta Go!
Never knew tennis was such an obnoxiously loud sport.
Whoa! Tennis…loud? I know what you’re thinkin’. MIKE’s lost it ‘cause all sports fans agree that tennis is dignified, cultured, quintessentially British with polite clapping for pretty pony-tailed girls sporting shapely short skirts.
Well, that’s NOT the tennis I experienced last night from my $1,000 nosebleed seat at the US Open. Yup! The normally distracting drone of JFK jets overhead couldn’t drown out the ridiculous racket on the court below.
You see, my only expectation of noise at a tennis match was the bop of the ball off the racquet or the squeak of sneaks on the hard true surface. But, I never anticipated the unanticipated…. the grating grunting and groaning of a statuesque Russian blond careening around the court.
Witnessing this Canon Camera Cover Girl methodically manage her match against an upstart 17 year old sounded more like a wounded deer extricating itself from a bear trap.
Every serve seemed like the Russian’s last as primeval screams emanated from her very core. Every return volley resonated with a guttural bellowing burst. And individual hairs on every fan’s neck stood at attention every time Miss Sharapova shared her shuddering shrieks for all of the Flushing Meadows’ faithful to forbear.
I’m sorry, but grunting doesn’t add another 25 mph to your serve, doesn’t perfectly place a return volley, and certainly doesn’t enrich the overall fan experience, especially when paying for a ticket mirrors that of making a mortgage payment!
Hey, I’m all for cheering on pretty pony-tailed girls sporting shapely short skirts, but let me be clear, “The Grunting’s Gotta Go!”
Straight Talk. No Static.
This is MIKE – thee American made voice on sports!
Whoa! Tennis…loud? I know what you’re thinkin’. MIKE’s lost it ‘cause all sports fans agree that tennis is dignified, cultured, quintessentially British with polite clapping for pretty pony-tailed girls sporting shapely short skirts.
Well, that’s NOT the tennis I experienced last night from my $1,000 nosebleed seat at the US Open. Yup! The normally distracting drone of JFK jets overhead couldn’t drown out the ridiculous racket on the court below.
You see, my only expectation of noise at a tennis match was the bop of the ball off the racquet or the squeak of sneaks on the hard true surface. But, I never anticipated the unanticipated…. the grating grunting and groaning of a statuesque Russian blond careening around the court.
Witnessing this Canon Camera Cover Girl methodically manage her match against an upstart 17 year old sounded more like a wounded deer extricating itself from a bear trap.
Every serve seemed like the Russian’s last as primeval screams emanated from her very core. Every return volley resonated with a guttural bellowing burst. And individual hairs on every fan’s neck stood at attention every time Miss Sharapova shared her shuddering shrieks for all of the Flushing Meadows’ faithful to forbear.
I’m sorry, but grunting doesn’t add another 25 mph to your serve, doesn’t perfectly place a return volley, and certainly doesn’t enrich the overall fan experience, especially when paying for a ticket mirrors that of making a mortgage payment!
Hey, I’m all for cheering on pretty pony-tailed girls sporting shapely short skirts, but let me be clear, “The Grunting’s Gotta Go!”
Straight Talk. No Static.
This is MIKE – thee American made voice on sports!
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