i know i sound like a pathetic loser being a sampras fan. but even now after all that the swiss player has achieved as the best player of all time, i still don't like roger federer. not even a little bit. i apologize to the facebook friends who are in the bandwagon. but sometimes i wonder, would the girls from dubai, jz and other members of his goat club would still be fans if all the fed ex could have managed was two slams like that win in wimbledon in '03 and one US Open in '04 then carve a niche as a perennial quarterfinalist or semifinalist or reach a final or two but not actually winning the big titles? it's quite a chore not to billow from our glory-hunting selves.
i was a sampras fan from the time he became the youngest US Open champion in 1990 when he served andre agassi off the court to that span in the early 90's he was outclassed by the elegant serve and volley style of stefan edberg, the heavy forehand of boris becker and the backcourt bashing of jim courier, to his years as world number one until his last match in flushing meadows in 2002. would i have been a fan even if he only won that US Open and devised a career path like michael chang? i think so. just look at my jun limpot
folios.
but prior to sampras, there was macEnroe. tennis being an expensive sport should not be popular in the philippines. but due to the mileage it generates in the back pages of newspapers, it has propagated an extensive following in a developing country like RP. when i started reading the sports pages of tempo, i was like eight or nine, johnny mac was the number one player in the world with jimmy connors as the main rival. navaratilova and chris evert dominated the women's game. i rooted mainly for macEnroe so expectedly i was in snoozefest during the reign of ivan lendl as the world's best. a magnificent doubles player, johnny mac for more than a decade has put his mouth to better use as an outstanding commentator. he fills the air with substance in his annual wimbledon stint.
i read voraciously about tennis during the ascendancies of a few world number one's before sampras -- mats wilander, stefan edberg, boris becker, jim courier. i was glued to the sports pages when boris becker won wimbledon at 17 as well as michael chang replacing wilander as the youngest french open champion also at 17 in 1989. the world got excited when the rock star image of andre agassi came along. a classmate was a fan, try as i did to embrace the long-haired athlete, i didn't really like guys with earrings. then pete sampras entered the scene, outserving a few big names on his way for his first major
title. it took him almost three years to attain another major success but pistol pete was always in the horizon, losing to goran in the 1992 wimbledon semis, losing to edberg in the final of the 1992 US Open.
at about the same time as sampras was about to play in his first wimbledon final, i was taking the exam to join the university paper. i passed the test but imagine my elation when sampras first won wimbledon and took his second US Open in 1993. a few years of good tennis followed, some of the stuff you can read in
this page. i was awake at odd times of early morning to watch his matches during his prime in bacolod. during my year in singapore where i had roommates, i bought a tiny portable tv in order to watch the 1999 wimbledon final.
i received a copy of sampras autobiography today, two weeks after it was ordered from amazon. so my moments of scanning the indices of his bio at waterstones are over. unlike fed (who is blessed with no major injuries), sampras had his share of physical setbacks, he missed the aussie open in 1999 citing fatigue, paving the way for kafelnikov to thank him in his victory speech. he missed the US Open in 1999 due to a herniated disc, hours before his first round match with the promising marat safin.
sampras could have won the french open with his massive array of ground strokes but clay negates the power of his serve. according to page 201 of his book*, his weaker backhand shots were exposed by opponents hitting with high-bouncing balls as high backhand gives one-handed backhanders fits. i think he was not as lucky as federer when it comes to the red clay of roland garros and was too impatient to play defensive tennis. he had the chance in '96 when he reached the semis but blew it in catastrophic fashion against kafelnikov.
if roddick didn't bottle his chances on sunday, the outcome might have been different. we wouldn't have seen that extra long fifth set. at present, only nadal has beaten federer in a grand slam final. if murray had won over roddick, if nadal was able to defend his title, would the fed ex won? records are there to be broken anyway. although i disagree with becker regarding
the depth of the men's game, with only three players --- nadal, djokovic, murray competitive enough to beat federer. who is going to be the next big star?
*Pete Sampras and Peter Bodo (2009). Pete Sampras: The Autobiography - A Champion's Mind. London: Aurum Press.
the temperatures has cooled down a lot from the boiling point of the last fortnight. there is a sputtering of sunshine in the cloudy skies. but crap, where was this weather during blur last week in hyde park? the moshpit was exhilarating. the music was great. but i was pissed off with the raging rays. drenched in soaring heat, my temper usually explodes when exhausted and dehydrated. 
but as soon as damon albarn lights up the screen, my furious disposition vastly dissipated. clad in fred perry, blur reunited serenaded the crowd with hits after hits, beginning the set with she's so high, diving head on to the ferocious beats of boys and girls and most of the menacing and gorgeous signatures of their britpop heydays; beetlebum, end of century, there's no other way, tracy jacks, poposcene, for tomorrow, song 2, the universal. the heartwarming harmony tender bouyed the throng to a rousing paean of healing and romance whilst graham coxon's vocals to coffee and tv conjured a joyous feeling of profound affection, as if a rift did not drive the essex foursome apart. albarn was in magnificent form, his voice cracking when addressing the fans, in between joyous renditions of the elegant pop songs that defined an era. i'll always be an outcast and a prude. though my inhibitions weren't altogether shaken by the presence of audacious spontaneity. 
whenever i get too deep in the prism of lackadaisical lulls, i usually check out a few romantic comedies in the dvd shelf. one romcom i've been drawn into over and over again in the past six months has been the katherine heigl starrer, 27 dresses. in all likelihood, i can now memorize every scene, every line. i was never really a bridesmaid or a maid of honor in my lifetime except once i was a bridesmaid of my mom's cousin in iloilo like 16 years ago. i'm not even sure liberty (the bride's name) had a clue who i was. the dress was attacked by rats as did my junior bridesmaid (some concept added to pad a wedding entourage) yellow gown and those three flower girl gossamer satins and laces. 
i know i sound like a pathetic loser being a sampras fan. but even now after all that the swiss player has achieved as the best player of all time, i still don't like roger federer. not even a little bit. i apologize to the facebook friends who are in the bandwagon. but sometimes i wonder, would the girls from dubai, jz and other members of his goat club would still be fans if all the fed ex could have managed was two slams like that win in wimbledon in '03 and one US Open in '04 then carve a niche as a perennial quarterfinalist or semifinalist or reach a final or two but not actually winning the big titles? it's quite a chore not to billow from our glory-hunting selves.
it's july, the month of sun and rain in the northern hemisphere. i've been outside a lot the last few days, committing to running my own errands sans the much desired sombrero. i got sunburned last year in the beaches of sipalay and the marks are ever present to this day. as tropics born and bred, this is my weather, my light. my rationale is, the outside world could stare and stare but i'm going to seek refuge under the umbrella. i'm not into likas papaya and all that marimar, dyesebel, darna actress ( i prefer the well-mannered performers) type, i adore this color. since i'm already brown kayumanggi, the sun is there for phosphorescent, not for bathing and baking. my grade school years embossed an imprint of ultraviolet rays scare. as before it was between sun rays of one pm and and three pm, now it's from eleven in the morning and onwards. i was taught that seven to nine am sun is vitamin d. i still abide by that mantra inculcated by the grade five lectures not on hearsays heard though the gossip mill.
