I officially have racquet fever.
For one, summer tennis season has become something positive and fun that I can focus on instead of my unemployed, sexually frustrated rut that I’ve been camping out in for some time now.** For this time allows me to follow and witness these incredible athletes do what they love, observing the creme de la creme rise to the top with the sheer force of their mental strength and focus, fighting for each point under such pressure, playing as though every point were their last, and some even scratching back after serious injuries- all providing incredible moments of inspiration and awe.
For two, there is a ridiculous amount of sexy ass scruffy beautiful, articulate and graceful men from all over the world running around for hours on end, every day, dripping in sweat, confidence, passion and agility. This too provides great moments of inspiration, awe and gratitude.
For three, watching tennis somehow helps push forward my recently discovered racquetball skills. Over the last six months or so I have come to realize the fact that I love swinging a racquet; watching tennis really seems to put me in the mood to dominate on the court.
And so, the moral of the short story is that the US Open time is the best possible time to be unemployed, sex mad and on an exercise roll. Thank you, ESPN2. If only these two weeks could and would last forever. (But maybe with a job or two sprinkled in between match breaks).
** When your five year old nephew is asking you what time and/or if you are ever going to go to work again and gives you a hug because you look like you need it, yeah, pretty sure that qualifies you for rutfare. Take a number, right?