Camille and I have been making the trek out to the desert every March for several years now for a day of tennis. Watching tennis, that is. I haven't played tennis since college and even then it was mostly just as an excuse to get smoothies afterwards (am I right, Rac?) We get to watch several matches pretty close to the players and drink frozen lemonade. And now I have just realized that I must have a very deep-seeded link between tennis and slushy beverages. This is clearly not a bad thing.
2.) The chair ump for the last match we watched (The Bryan Twins v. Some Kid from Canada and Some Cute Guy from Spain.) was named Fergus Murphy. FERGUS MURPHY!! Oh, please let me have a son so I can name him Fergus Murphy (insert Wealthy Benefactor's last name here). Not only was he beautifully named but he had the funniest moment of the entire day. At the end of a break the players got up and into position and were ready to play but there was a couple right in the middle of the stand making some ruckus. Dancing or something. So Fergus Murphy says, "Ladies and gentleman, please take your seats." Still, with the ruckus. "Please, stop moving around so the players can begin." Still, ruckus. "Will the lady and gentleman standing directly across from me please stop moving around and sit down." STILL! "Hellooooo! We can all see yoooouuuu!" Fergus Murphy is my hero.
3.) Unless your in the big stadium or watching a match with some no-names, seating is decided by death matches under the bleachers. We always had great seats because after four years we have learned to go to the tail end of the smaller matches preceding the bigger ones. But some people haven't figured out this trick yet. People who had been waiting under the bleachers for hours would finally get seats and tell stories of blood and guts and name calling. An argument between two senior citizens very nearly came to fisticuffs. It was thrilling!
A few highlights include:
1.) Guess what is in this cup. Go ahead. Cocoa? Coffee (don't be ridiculous)? Some other hot beverage that needs to be sipped gently through a wee hole? Nope. It's rootbeer. They ran out of soda lids. This, after waiting in the drive-thru for 20 minutes. They handed this to me with a straw and no explanation until we asked. It was fine until the ice got in the way. But it made me giggle the entire time. And as an aside - here's something interesting about me that you may not know - I hate guessing. When someone says, "Guess," I always say, in a very stubborn tone, "I don't guess." I find that this is the only way to combat the, "No, come on! Just guess!" If it doesn't work I usually throw something out that is ludicrously wrong. Like if you say, "Guess how many polar bears I have in my Beanie Baby collection," I was say "910," and then fold my arms and harumph. Because I'm zero fun. Don't ever invite me to your party.
2.) The chair ump for the last match we watched (The Bryan Twins v. Some Kid from Canada and Some Cute Guy from Spain.) was named Fergus Murphy. FERGUS MURPHY!! Oh, please let me have a son so I can name him Fergus Murphy (insert Wealthy Benefactor's last name here). Not only was he beautifully named but he had the funniest moment of the entire day. At the end of a break the players got up and into position and were ready to play but there was a couple right in the middle of the stand making some ruckus. Dancing or something. So Fergus Murphy says, "Ladies and gentleman, please take your seats." Still, with the ruckus. "Please, stop moving around so the players can begin." Still, ruckus. "Will the lady and gentleman standing directly across from me please stop moving around and sit down." STILL! "Hellooooo! We can all see yoooouuuu!" Fergus Murphy is my hero.
3.) Unless your in the big stadium or watching a match with some no-names, seating is decided by death matches under the bleachers. We always had great seats because after four years we have learned to go to the tail end of the smaller matches preceding the bigger ones. But some people haven't figured out this trick yet. People who had been waiting under the bleachers for hours would finally get seats and tell stories of blood and guts and name calling. An argument between two senior citizens very nearly came to fisticuffs. It was thrilling!
4.) Because of the trauma of getting in and all that frozen lemonade, there is a real bond that you share with your neighbors. We sat next to Our New Best Friends Kristen and Austin for 2 entire matches. Austin cracked jokes and Kristen pointed out cute players. Ideal seat companions.
5.) Is that Paula Deen in a woven bird jacket?! I wish.
5 comments:
Is that why every time I see an ad for Wimbledon I feel like going to Jamba Juice? Huh. Those were some good times, weren't they? I am determined to make it to a pro tournament some time. Not on the court, in the stands, of course. After I took out my hot tennis instructor with my killer over hand smash I realized tennis wasn't my destiny. But watching it is super entertaining. I now also have a dream of meeting Fergus Murphy. He sounds fantastic.
I totally picture Fergus Murphy in a kilt! Didn't you get a picture of your new hero?
We should have gotten a picture of Fergus Murphy. I actually didn't even see what he looks like since he was in his high and mighty ump chair which he totally deserves with a name like Fergus Murphy.
All I have to say is Platano!!
Aaaaaand there's my new exclamation, and/or furious muttering.
The puckered lips made meh fluttah.
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