Bárbara reads ‘Rafa’ so you don’t have to

August 30th, 2011 • autobiography, john carlin, rafa, rafael nadal • 3 comments

This week I’ve read Rafa – the Rafael Nadal biography written by himself and British journalist John Carlin. Anyone that knows me or accompanies this blog is aware that I’m a huge Rafa fan. I’ve followed him since 2004 and cheered him on since he won Costa do Sauípe here in Brazil. Obviously I’m an easier to please reader than most. And, honestly, I can say I didn’t enjoy the book all that much. So since I am a very nice blogger, I’m going to tell you all the important bits and why you should/shouldn’t read Rafa.

• The plot: The book is about Rafa’s life, but it doesn’t tell much about it. What you’re going to read over and over: he’s a great person, he’s been taught to be very modest and he loves his family. Like, his family is everything. His family is the best ever. He wouldn’t be anywhere without his family. His dad is boss. His mom is sweet. His sister is awesome. His uncle is tough but great. Rinse and repeat. At least 40% of the book is praising the Nadals. Also: the Wimbledon final in 2008 was dope.

• His family: They’re a bit creepy. They all live together (or used to, before Rafa’s parents got divorced) in the same building in Manacor, in Mallorca – Rafa‘s hometown. Everyone is so close – grandparents, uncles, aunts – that all doors in the house are opened. In a jokingly way, even Carlin compares them to the Corleones, from The Godfather.

From what can be gathered on the book, Rafa would do anything his family told him to. After he won his fourth Roland Garros, in 2008, he wanted to get a sports car – but his dad said he could only buy it if he won Wimbledon. 1) What. 2) At 22 years old, he was already a self-made millionaire at the time. On the autobiography, Rafa says: ‘I wouldn’t have gone ahead and bought the car without his (Sébastian, his father) blessing. But instead, he came up with what he thought was a devious compromise.’ Well then.

Rafa talks about how once his godmother congratulated him on a win. I know, what a crazy bitch. On the book, it’s written: ‘Marilén, the godmother, did try once (to congratulate Rafa), and immediately Toni and Rafa’s was response was to look at her incredulously and say, “What are you doing?” “They were right”, Marilén says. “It was as if I were congratulating myself. Because if one of us wins, we all win.”‘ It’s like something straight out of The Sopranos.

• Toni Nadal: is a bit mental. I think most Rafa fans know that already. You know those tennis parents that want to live their lives through their children? That’s what Toni seems like. Having failed on the tour because he never had a ‘big weapon’, he has ‘built his nephew’ to become a champion. Rafa thanks Toni for everything. Toni was always tough and strict - making Rafa train more and work harder than his tennis buddies. Maybe without Toni, Rafa wouldn’t be the amazing athlete he is today. I still wouldn’t want my kid near Toni though. Rafa tells a story on how, once, when he was a kid, he forgot to nring his water bottle before a match and asked Toni if he could buy him one. Toni said no to ‘teach him responsibility’. Similar thing happened when Rafa tried to jump over the net but fell down instead. While Rafa bled, Toni screamed at him. Say with me, readers: nutcase.

• Injuries: He talks about the bone problem he has on his foot – the one that nearly made him quit tennis in 2004/2005. He has a genetic condition and he pondered trading tennis for golf. He has to wear special soles on his shoes (designed by doctors) to ease the problem up until this day. Rafa also discussed the knee treatment he did for his tendinitis – the one that made him skip Wimbledon in 2009. He got injections – without any sort of pain relief medication – straight into the region. They seem to have healed the problem completely.

• Wimbledon 2008: Along with his family, that’s the subject most talked about on the book. One of the best matches of all time and Rafa‘s first Wimbledon title. It’s obvious that was the most important title for Rafa – even more than the U.S. Open last year, where he completed his Career Grand Slam. After he lost the 2007′s final to Roger Federer, Rafa was traumatized. He was crying on the shower floor for hours after. Rafa was relieved when he finally took the crown in Wimbledon. In the book, a bunch of the points are narrated. It’s interesting if you want to know what Rafa was thinking at the moment – but even casual fans can guess that one out. ‘I’m so nervous, serve to the backhand!!’ My desire was to skip all the pages describing games and games of that match. Would I really be reading the book if I hadn’t watched that match? Come on.

• Champion:  Rafa was set to be a champion. He’s crazy competitive and driven. He has that inner drive that very few have. Carlos Moyá says that even when Rafa was still 14, the boy used to be able to push him in practices. Let it be reminded that Moyá had already won Roland Garros by then and was in the top five.

• My favourite part: In my opinion, the best was when Rafa talked about the Davis Cup, in 2004. He was out of the top 50 and the Spanish captain chose to play him on the final against America – instead of Tommy Robredo or Juan Carlos Ferrero. Still only eighteen, Rafa defeated Andy Roddick on home soil. It was one of the few bits in the biography where I was really into the book. And I’m not even sure why. Probably why I am not a professional book reviewer. Teenage Rafa kicking the big guys’ asses just makes me happy.

I think Rafa could have said a little more about his life, like, interesting things. I know he doesn’t enjoy talking about personal stuff, but what’s the point of writing an autobiography then? It all felt a bit shallow. Like a press conference or an interview to a major newspaper. He’s no Agassi. The book’s strongest feature is learning about how dedicated Rafa is to the sport. You always hear about his work ethic right and left, but Rafa gives a lot of stories on it. There are very few athletes dedicated as he is. Rafa Nadal is a great professional, an amazing player and, above all, a hard worker.

A picture of me in a hat

August 27th, 2011 • bernard tomic, me in a hat • No comments

I have a few tips for people that want to camp at Wimbledon. One of them: make sure your tent is big enough. And bring an extra bra, in case it rains and yours gets soaked. Also, if you’re going to take a hat, don’t forget to take a hat case – like a box so you can put your hat in. This might seem like a silly suggestion, like, who am I, Scarlett O’Hara? Kate Middleton? Olly Murs? But today, I managed to get a screencap of me on my last day at Wimbledon. And here’s what my hat looked like:

(you can click to make it bigger, I think)

You can also see ATomic on the picture (can you???). And some girl pondering really hard about the tennis. And me, in a hat. Needless to say I didn’t bring the hat home.

I hope you have enjoyed this post.

SOOOO

August 26th, 2011 • Uncategorized • 2 comments

Yes, this is a post. Colour me shocked. Let’s not get our panties in a twist though. I’ll try going back to posting here – not that anyone cares though. #unloved I haven’t been here in about a year, yet I paid the monthly fee to keep this up. What do you call that? Love? Stupidity? Laziness? YES TO ALL OF THEM.

So let’s recap what happened since I left: Novak is now a’ thing’, Rafa has confidence issues, Caro is half of a sport supercouple, Vika still gets injured frequently, Serena will always be the ‘one to beat’. And apparently Federer remains playing tennis? Jesus, old dude, retire already. No one likes you!

ALSO: I went to Wimbledon in June! I have some pictures but they’re not very good. They’re mostly of Pico Monaco‘s face and me rocking a hat that became deformed after two weeks. I also camped. For two nights. Wearing a ‘Vamos Rafa!’ t-shirt. Yes, I’m one of those people.

In non-tennis news: The Daily Dot is a very fun website for news to related to the ‘internet world’ and apparently I’m into hip hop now? I don’t even know either. It’s hard out here for a pimp.

Teniscópio

November 11th, 2010 • off-topic • No comments

No need to read the post if you’re not into amazing things and-slash-or you don’t speak Portuguese.

Ontem (ou talvez anteontem), um novo site sobre tênis foi lançado, o Teniscópio.

(clique para ir para o site)

A proposta do Teniscópio é ser um conjunto de blogs, escritos por diferentes autores, com diferentes interesses — jornalistas ou não. O site também conta com um agregador de notícias sobre tênis que leva para sites internacionais e nacionais. A ideia é que em vez de um site com notícias sobre tênis, se tenha um site com opiniões sobre notícias sobre tênis.

O meu blog, ‘Love Game’, está no ar e o meu primeiro post já pode ser lido. Eu, como sempre, devido à falta de criatividade, aceito sugestões de pautas.

Além disso, o Teniscópio tem twitter e facebook, então vamos seguir/curtir, galera.

Spasiba

November 1st, 2010 • demented • No comments

Hello, dear readers.

I don’t have anything new to add to the topic of the YEC, Bali (except ‘lol Wicky surfing’) or Elena Dementieva‘s retirement. I just want to thank everyone for the lovely comments and responses I got everywhere thanks to the letter. I heard some very kind and inspiring words from all of you. The text ended up at her official website, which is a bit astonishing.  I also translated it to Portuguese to be posted to at Saque e Voleio and it got a nifty space at GloboEsporte‘s tennis home.

I’m glad that, what I thought was a very personal letter, apparently touched so many of you. It’s almost like that quote from Tolstoi* that says the more regional literature is, the more universal it becomes.

*I do realise I just compared one of the greatest minds from literature to a letter I wrote on a blog called ‘Fierce Tennis’. Who knew I was such a big twat?  I cannot apologise enough for that.

(picture via fuckyeahelenadementieva)

An open letter to Elena Dementieva

October 29th, 2010 • demented • 10 comments

Dear Elena,

Hi, you don’t know me, I’m just a fan. My name is Bárbara and I’m 20 years old. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but today you retired from professional tennis. (I make stupid jokes when I’m upset, I apologise.) Yesterday, I was cheering for you to make the semis in Doha and gain some extra points, today, I find out I’ll probably never watch you play again. It’s all a bit sudden, if you know what I mean. I’m not criticising you, I know you have your reasons to announce or not announce your retirement. Either way, before you get all defensive on me, let me tell you a bit about myself.

I come from Brazil. When I was 6, Gustavo Kuerten won Roland Garros and created a huge tennis frenzy in the country. I liked him. I believe, up until this day, he was one of the greatest role models and athletes my nation has ever had. But, at the time, I didn’t care all that much. I only seriously got into tennis at 10 — as seriously as you can possibly feel about something when you’re that age. And, when you’re 10, everything feels serious and eternal. I was watching the Sydney Olympics and I ended up catching the women’s singles final. After two not-all-that-great sets, I was in love. No — get off your high horse — not in love with you, in love with the sport. You can probably say there were better matches between 1997 and 2000 to get me into tennis, but love hits you in weird ways, doesn’t it? The Sydney final made me feel a level of excitement, empathy and, in the end, pure sadness that I didn’t know was capable of being felt through sport. After the match, you, Lena, had gained an Olympic silver medal. Tennis, on the other hand, had gained a die-hard fan.

Ever since that final, every year that passed, I loved tennis more and more. Ten years of my life were marked by you and other players hitting yellow fuzzy balls. As cliché as it may sound, I grew up watching you play. I don’t even have to think hard to recall some of your losses that hurt the most. Big ones, like that morning you lost to Myskina in Paris or that night that you lost to Kuznetsova in New York. And even smaller ones, like all the weekends I woke up at 6 AM to watch you play either semifinals or finals in Moscow and saw you lose. But, to be honest, the victories are just as easy to relive. I don’t even have to put any effort to remember the score against Serena when you finally clinched that Kremlin Cup title (5-7 6-1 6-1). Or reminisce how awesome it was when you, single-handedly, won the Fed Cup for Russia against the French in a full Phillipe Chatrier. And, believe me, Elena, I’m terrible with numbers. I can’t, for my life, recall my friends or family member’s birthdays. Turns out my brain believes tennis scores are more important than when my loved ones were born. (No, I was never clinically diagnosed crazy, why do you ask?) And, Elena, if I’m being completely honest with you, even some of your losses bring me good memories. That 2009 Wimbledon semifinal will forever go in history as one of the greatest women’s matches played on the holy grass. You have to feel nothing but pride about that.

Elena, you were the player that made me understand the meaning of the word ‘fan’. You were my football team, my role model, my superhero.  I cared if you won or lost. Eventually, when you grow up, you start thinking ‘What difference does it make in my life if a leggy blonde Russian tennis player wins a match or not?’ But then it’s already too late. You’re already hooked. It’s safe to say I spent quite a few years of life trying to get that hook out of my mouth. As you can see, I failed.

You had a great career. Even if we ignore all the awards, the 16 titles, career high of number three, two Slam finals, Olympic gold medal and consistency  –  you’d still have had a great career. You created fans everywhere you went. You were always the classiest, in victory and defeat. Forget Roger Federer, you were the perfect definition of what a true champion was. If you’re 1% as good as you were an athlete on what you plan to do, then I’m sure you’ll do an amazing job. Feel free to keep in touch. Maybe we can go out for coffee — or vodka, I don’t know what you Russians drink when you’re unemployed.

All the best of luck in your future,

Bárbara

The One Where I Pretend I’m Coming Back

October 25th, 2010 • petkorazzi, vika azarenka • 3 comments

Since I actually pay to keep this blog up, I might as well post something to make it worth it.

SO, HERE, A PICTURE OF VICTORIOUS VIKA:

(I have the same top in two different colours. And I like how the front of the shirt is tucked in her jeans. It’s………. interesting*.)

I’ll try doing a coverage of Doha, ok. And by coverage, I mean actually posting here, not just tweeting ‘What on earth is JJ wearing’ on a loop. For now, I’ll just say this week was quite nice if you’re a Victoria Azarenka fan. Title in Moscow, proving she’s the real tennis twitter GOAT — not Petko, qualifying for the YEC, etc. Now here’s to her winning a few points in Doha and not fainting next season. Cheers!

And the award of best reaction at wasting a match point goes to………

You’d imagine it would go to Andrea Petkovic, since she’s such a pro at that, but turns out she’s not as expressive as Vika. That’s life, I guess.

*=gay

(gif via fuckyeahwta)

Some things are in the blood

September 15th, 2010 • jj • 2 comments

JJ‘s cousin is a ‘popstar’ back in Serbia. Now my life is officially made.

(video via Forty Deuce)

Golden Letters

September 14th, 2010 • holy rafa • No comments

If someone had told me an exact year ago that Rafael Nadal would be winning three slams in a row and completing the Golden Slam at fantastic fashion just about now, my reaction would be something along the lines of ‘Mate, get the fuck off’. From his loss to Soderling in Roland Garros up until the end of the season–not including Davis Cup–, Rafa had gathered 25 wins and 10 losses. That’s a 60% winning percentage. The scary thing was how absolutely devastating some of those losses were. It doesn’t take much to find a Rafa fan that relates last year’s World Tour Finals to nightmares. He lost all three matches without even snagging a set. The knee was looking better but you could see the Spaniard that had always been associated with a bull had no confidence left.

Flashforward to 2010. Ever since the beginning of the clay season in April, Rafa has 43 wins and 3 losses. He has won 93% of the matches he has played. He won all three slams since then–not dropping a single set in Roland Garros and getting broken only 5 times in Flushing Meadows. What a difference a year makes.

There are two characteristics from Rafa that can explain those numbers. One of them is his fighting spirit — Rafa is knowing for giving 110% at all moments that include him, a racquet, a yellow ball and a court with funny lines. The other one is his ability to evolve. Four years ago, Rafa didn’t know how to move in the court and finish points at the net. Three years ago, he didn’t know how to flatten out the ball at points when needed. Six months ago, he didn’t know how to hit absolute bombs with his serve.

It’s hard coming up with a player in history whose game showed so much positive changes throughout his career. At 24, Rafa has 9 slams (including one of each), the Olympic gold and 3 Davis Cup titles. The scary part that it doesn’t look like he’s slowing down. At this rhythm, if he keeps healthy, there’s a possibility he’ll put those GOAT discussions on fire.

That’s in the future. For now, Rafa fans, celebrate–for your boy has written his name in history once again.

Tennis players: they can hit balls with racquets and they aren’t all that bad looking

September 3rd, 2010 • kiri is 2 hot 4 u, sam stosur, squeaky shoes ivanovic • 2 comments

Guess who’s looking fine as ever on the cover of the Vanity Fair website today? No, not Blake Lively. It’s our own (in our dreams) Maria Kirilenko!

Vanity Fair magazine did a shoot with 31 players who are in the U.S. Open. There’s a quite a nice variety of players: number one seed Caroline Wozniacki, qualifier cutie Ryan Harrison, wheelchair-player Esther Vergeer, twitter favourite Andrea Petkovic, the boring as ever Bryan Brothers, amongst others. You can check out the whole thing here.

Now we have finished the serious part of the post, let’s play a game.

One of these players is photogenic. The other is not. Guess who.

(Suggestion thanks to Kirilicious)