Thursday, January 29, 2009

Rafael Nadal's lucky undies

Whew …. This is our third day over 40 degrees and I am completely sapped of energy.

I can hardly summon the strength to type. My fingers are heavily plonking up and down on the keyboard rather than flying along nimbly as they usually do. In fact, I just typed “numbly” there instead of nimbly – I think that says it all.

And if I’m so whacked by the heat (and I usually *love* the heat), how are those players at the Australian Open coping? I heard someone say it can get to 60 degrees on centre court if it’s around 40 degrees in the air.

60 degrees!! Dearie me, it would be too much to bear just sitting in one place, let alone fighting out an athletic game of strength, skill and stamina. Jeez.

My One True Love and I actually went to the tennis last night, courtesy of some corporate largesse, and we watched the match between Rafael Nadal and Gilles Simon.

I’m not usually a big tennis fan … in fact, I spent the first half an hour in the Garnier tent having a little mini-facial which was deLIGHTfully refreshing given the heat, and then of course I got the freebie bag as I exited which had all manner of freebie full-sized products in it (though if anyone would like the spray-on tan-in-a-can and after-sun tan extender, please do let me know).

I digress. But I recommend it, if you're going.

So I’m not usually a big tennis fan but watching Nadal and Simon play was fantastic. We had quite good seats, quite close to the court, quite near the front (thank you Big Business) and so we were in the *perfect* position to watch Nadal repeatedly extract the wedgie from his butt cheeks about every ten seconds.

How many times can one guy pull his undies out of his crack?? It was awful! Like a car crash right in your vision – you can’t look away because it’s RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU every five minutes.

In fact, there was something quite ritualistic about it, so maybe he’s so used to doing it that he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it any more. Maybe they’re his lucky undies and that’s why they give him the wedgie, because he’s been wearing them for ten thousand years? And now they're all loose and baggy? But he can’t wear another pair because they’re his lucky undies and without them he’ll lose the game?

But I mean really – can somebody please tell that guy how horrendous it looks, and while you’re there, could you please mention to him that some supportive trunks would eliminate the need for such a public display of undie-picking? Doesn’t Pat Rafter endorse some kind of Bonds Very Comfy Undies or other such product? If it’s good enough for Pat, it’s good enough for Rafael.

Anyway, the lucky undies clearly worked, because he beat Simon hands down - or should that be pants down?

6-4, 7-5, 7-5.

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