LK knows a lot about tennis. When we first started going out he told me that he was 'All American', and I replied 'oh that's nice, I'm All British'.
I'm amazed we've made it thus far.
Anyway, one of the wonderful things he has introduced me to is a love of tennis. In 2005 B.C. (Before Child) I must have played about 4-5 times a week, rising to the rank of '#1 doubles team' at our local club.
It's an honour to know me isn't it?
Now, 2008 A.D. (Anna Dominates) going to Palm Springs to watch the Pacific Coast Open is about as close as I get to a tennis ball. I miss tennis, I really do, but not enough to pay someone $15/hr to watch the creature while I run around having fun. These are tough times people.
We bought grounds passes to get in to the tournament, which is such a brilliant deal because every single player you could wish to see is there warming up on the side courts and you can get much closer to them than if you were in the stadium watching them play.
Being that close brings out the star-fucker in everyone. Check out this ASS (actual star sighting):
Federer (looking rather dapper and far less caveman-ish than usual I thought).
Plus, the players are having fun, warming up, playing practice sets, and in the case of Djokovic taking his shirt off entirely and running around with a bunch of other Croats playing football leaving LK to comment 'he should really stick to tennis'.
Nadal, he seems like such a nice bloke but I can't get over the fact that he looks like a rodent.
My Mum saw these pictures LK took of Sherapova and said
'at first I thought it was you'.
3 months of doing 'group power' at the gym have not quite garnered me abs like that....but a girl can dream, and LK can hint. (As an aside, he once said to me 'I wouldn't mind if you got really buff you know').
Hmm, I'll get right on it.
Here's my personal favourite, Ivan Lubicic.
This completely throws LK who cannot understand why I fancy this balding bloke who looks more like a thug than a tennis player. To which I reply I'm not exactly a delicate flower myself and 'tall and powerfully built' has always made me look less of a she-man and for heavens sake stop questioning me and let me drool in peace.
So LK wandered off to take eleventy-billion photos of Anna Ivanovic, and the next time I saw him I hadn't moved a muscle and he busted me doing some more Lubicic-stalking:
See how I'm trying to pretend that the massive green stroller to my right does not belong to me?
I may look like a drowning fish, but that's me trying to look shocked and indignant that he thought I'd been watching Lubicic the entire time he was gone......
We went to this same tournament 2 years ago when Anna was knee-high to a grasshopper. LK had wandered off again, and I swear I just happened to be right by the gate when Lubicic walked off the court. I ditched the toddler and grabbed the first piece of paper I could find to get his autograph, and as if by magic LK appeared behind my left ear and said 'oh that's nice'.