Drunken sobriety

I so prepared for the spectacle that is Wimbledon that I bought twin lazy boy recliners on sale. I’m cheap, not by luxury of choice but by force of circumstance. But I never thought I would root for Nick Kyrgios. I called him names before, from brash to trash, from obnoxious to chaos. But on court he is dangerous, a real, lurking threat to tennis greats.

I hoped Kyrgios would deny Novak Djokovic another slam. Otherwise, it places him in between Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer. But seated next to me was Gustavo, not Kuerten, but my younger self who likes Djokovic only because I dislike the Serb. Even between father and son, there’s a thin line that separates oppositionist and obstructionist.

But before the finals I anticipated explosive semi-final match between Nick and Rafa. But I woke up to a text from my good friend Floro Astillo. Rafa withdrew. Yes, he is just a good friend. Not really the best, but second to none. I’d welcome to hear someone protest, it means I have multiple best buds.

Enough with debate on who is best among our friends, the Russian invasion of Ukraine settles earlier than the question of who is the fellow most loyal to us. A no-brainer. It’s the four-legged furry buddy who does nothing but wait for us the entire day. No questions asked, where we went, what took us so long or who we’re with. Just as to our kids, our presence matters more than our presents.

But all right, let’s go back to that early morning text. Gut level friends break bad news anytime. They know how to arrest the meltdown, not by the barrel of a gun but by barrels of beer. The king of clay ended his quest for a third straight slam of the year and third Wimbledon crown. An abominable abdominal tear forced Rafa to withdraw. I thought his foot or knees down there did him in. It’s the core, neither of his kind soul nor fighting spirit, but of his midsection.

Kyrgios thus earned his first finals berth by default, a gift of fate he so wasted. Against Djokovic, Nick the Dick was busier rambling than playing. He complained against a drunken female fan for distracting him during play. Kyrgios annoyed? You’ll never know what tranquility is. On court he is sober but acts drunk more than those who drank one too many.

Look at his court antics. While the tweenies entertain, the underarm serve disrespects the Serb who, in turn, needs to learn what respect is. Kyrgios abused his first and probably last chance at grand slam glory by his reckless and temperamental shots. Now he gave me another reason to not like him.

Because of what he did or did not do, Djokovic won his 21nd, er 21th slam, one shy away from Nadal. The Serb just made history of being the first and only man to win at least seven crowns in different slams – the Australian Open and the major, major Wimbledon. I console myself with the thought that Rafa doubled it in the one surface he owns or the surface that owns him. I’m not bothered anymore. For why would we care about history? It’s just gossip. How dumb can you get.