Tryst of the Tennis Titans

It’s about to happen: something I have dreamed of since that fateful day six years ago when the then indomitable God of tennis was toppled by a young, unseasoned, much too cocky up-and-comer. Who would have known that just a couple of years later I’d switch allegiances and root for the young Swiss sensation (the sport of tennis knew, having secretly crowned its next big phenomenon on sanctum sanctorum itself).

Time will stand still as two different eras and contrasting talents face off later this year in what will most likely be an exhibition of tennis artistry never coordinately witnessed on a tennis court (between them, Sampras and Federer encompass every shot ever hit with a tennis racket).

Rudolph, the red-nosed candidate

Hearing Rudy stutter his way through Chris Matthews’ abortion questions at the GOP debate last week, I was pretty disappointed at the surprise GOP frontrunner and the one candidate who until then seemed worthy of the White House (though that worth has steadily declined since W took over).

Considering three of the ten republicans at the debate snootily raised their hands to negate the possibility of evolution and a slightly saner one digressed into a “hand of God” after giving a perfunctory nod to the Darwinian theory, I daresay this country needs to start considering candidates that deal with real issues before going in search of wonderland.

The former mayor did manage to put himself back on the pedestal (or fence, as some might call that precarious "middle") after re-iterating his pro-choice stance today at a Baptist University, no less.

The champion of fake news is for real!

He may be the epitome of fake news, but there is nothing fake about him.

Got to watch the “real” Jon Stewart at his act last weekend and was treated to an hour and half of rip-roaring political humor, some cheerful daily life banter accompanied by extensive impersonations and mockeries of religious frivolities (my personal favorite) – and through it all, he had our sides splitting. There were also witty comebacks to fans in the audience including an obsessive female one (not me).

My only complaint is that having not heeded to Ticketmaster’s urges on time, we ended up in the nosebleed section.

On second thoughts, there is a certain comfort in seeing such exalted personalities from afar – blur the image a little so they still have that semblance of unreality you often associate with them (it also helps to be myopic and too vain to succumb to glasses).

And now, to a petty observation: for those that have only seen him on the more flattering media of celluloid, when he says he’s tiny, he sure as hell means it.

Paraphrasing Oliver Goldsmith,

And still they gaz'd and still the wonder grew,
That one small frame could carry all he knew.