Roland Garros

I’ve never gotten tennis. I love going on court and winging a few balls back and forth, but I am horrible at it and watching others play has always seemed like an odd sort of torture. And then came Rolland Garros, the annual Grand Slam event that happens in Paris every year.

Ay first it was barely a blip on my radar. Then I started to make friends here and I started to hear more and more about. Turns out, its a real people scene and my curiosity was aroused. As I asked about it, I learned that many of my friends were big fans and it started becoming a serious topic of conversation, but I was still not interested enough to do anything crazy, like log on and try to purchase some tickets so I could go on my own.

Then came Tuesday night’s dinner (grilled veggies with tome de brebis cheese and a Pouilly Fuissé) and Mr French’s announcement, “I have an extra VIP ticket to Roland Garros tomorrow, if you’d like to join me.” Monsieur Wonka was offering me the Golden ticket, a VIP invite with lunch and cocktails. AND (because, after all, its supposed to be about the game) we’d be watching the international star, Roger Federer play the French star Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. It didn’t take me long to shout OUI!

Rendez-vous at the Tennis Pavillion, noon sharp. A leisurely lunch and we were on the courts by 14h to watch the women’s quarter final with The Italian Errani smashing balls back and forth with the Polish Radwonska. We had great seats and I started watching the game with some interest, but I had NO IDEA what was going on. So I started playing with my iPhone, taking photos. but that got old fast, so I started tweeting about the game, which made it kind of fun. And I started to get interested and before I knew it, my phone was back in my bag and I was at the edge of my seat, watching Errani win in a nail biting tie breaker.

After the match there was a brief break for everyone to go to the washrooms, purchase Addidas or Lacoste stuff, test the speed of their serve at the Longines stand, or have their photo taken by Balobat. There was soft serve ice cream and a face painter and so much to see that I felt like a kid at a carnival, which is pretty much what it is, only for grown ups! I could have stayed an hour, or two, but it was time for the men to begin.

I know its a sport, but let’s be honest here, even on the court, fashion counts. If it didn’t Nike, Adidas, Reebok and company would not spend millions outfitting every world class athlete in the planet, not to mention entire teams. So my first reaction to the match is that Federer was wearing a sad, grey t-shirt, no collar. Mr French assured me that this has been acceptable since Agassi in the 90’s. Fair enough, but if that’s ok, why are the women still wearing skirts? I have to admit that I loved his Nike sneakers with a white heel that made it look like he was wearing slippers.

And then the match began. Wow. Men’s tennis is really different from women’s tennis. They were serving that ball at 211 km/h. It was going so fast that sometimes we’d loose track of it as it zoomed from one side of the net to the other. In a total upset, the local boy did good, with Tsonga winning the match in just three sets (that’s pretty rare)!!!

20130605-114031.jpg
I’ve never gotten tennis. I love going on court and winging a few balls back and forth, but I am horrible at it and watching others play has always seemed like an odd sort of torture. And then came Rolland Garros, the annual Grand Slam event that happens in Paris every year.

Ay first it was barely a blip on my radar. Then I started to make friends here and I started to hear more and more about. Turns out, its a real people scene and my curiosity was aroused. As I asked about it, I learned that many of my friends were big fans and it started becoming a serious topic of conversation, but I was still not interested enough to do anything crazy, like log on and try to purchase some tickets so I could go on my own.

Then came Tuesday night’s dinner (grilled veggies with tome de brebis cheese and a Pouilly Fuissé) and Mr French’s announcement, “I have an extra VIP ticket to Roland Garros tomorrow, if you’d like to join me.” Monsieur Wonka was offering me the Golden ticket, a VIP invite with lunch and cocktails. AND (because, after all, its supposed to be about the game) we’d be watching the international star, Roger Federer play the French star Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. It didn’t take me long to shout OUI!

Rendez-vous at the Tennis Pavillion, noon sharp. A leisurely lunch and we were on the courts by 14h to watch the women’s quarter final with The Italian Errani smashing balls back and forth with the Polish Radwonska. We had great seats and I started watching the game with some interest, but I had NO IDEA what was going on. So I started playing with my iPhone, taking photos. but that got old fast, so I started tweeting about the game, which made it kind of fun. And I started to get interested and before I knew it, my phone was back in my bag and I was at the edge of my seat, watching Errani win in a nail biting tie breaker.

After the match there was a brief break for everyone to go to the washrooms, purchase Addidas or Lacoste stuff, test the speed of their serve at the Longines stand, or have their photo taken by Balobat. There was soft serve ice cream and a face painter and so much to see that I felt like a kid at a carnival, which is pretty much what it is, only for grown ups! I could have stayed an hour, or two, but it was time for the men to begin.

I know its a sport, but let’s be honest here, even on the court, fashion counts. If it didn’t Nike, Adidas, Reebok and company would not spend millions outfitting every world class athlete in the planet, not to mention entire teams. So my first reaction to the match is that Federer was wearing a sad, grey t-shirt, no collar. Mr French assured me that this has been acceptable since Agassi in the 90’s. Fair enough, but if that’s ok, why are the women still wearing skirts? I have to admit that I loved his Nike sneakers with a white heel that made it look like he was wearing slippers.

And then the match began. Wow. Men’s tennis is really different from women’s tennis. They were serving that ball at 211 km/h. It was going so fast that sometimes we’d loose track of it as it zoomed from one side of the net to the other. In a total upset, the local boy did good, with Tsonga winning the match in just three sets (that’s pretty rare)!!!

 

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