One baldie bowed out on grass yesterday, arguably the best player of his generation and the only player in four decades to win all four premier tournaments. A player whose children (with the best player the woman's game has ever seen) if they get the right genes can potentially whack the living daylights out of anybody once they grow up (and out of the Zappa inspired names). I remember watching the 1992 Wimbledon Final as a impressionable young kid, and I was amazed at how this long-haired impressario played.
Yesterday when Agassi lost to someone I believe is the future of tennis, and possibly the only player out there who can challenge 'FedEx' I flet Wimbledon was letting go of some history and felt a little twang in the heart. Or maybe that was the chicken curry I had for lunch. Who knows!
But yesterday wasn't about tennis was it. It also wasn't about India's best test bowling performance in a test after a long time, not that our batsmen backed it up with anything special. Yesterday was about another baldie , OK, so the Anglo-Saxon media empire would want us to believe that yesterday was all about a red card and attrociously taken penalties.
Kolkata, a city where people claim to know football, yet somehow elect Priya Ranjan Das Munshi back to the Lok Sabha time after time, which makes me suspect this claim of 'knowledge' - PRDM is possibly single-handedly responsible for driving the Indian game into the gutter. Explain why a billion people can't put together a decent team? If it wasn't for Anand Mahindra and Vijay Mallya putting a bit of money into the game, god knows how much worse the game would be. But as long as FIFA gives PRDM free tickets to the final, where he can take his murder accused friends and Congress colleagues, who cares?
Oh yeah, did I mention that PRDM wants to shackle the TV media in a vice like grip so that they can't say anything against the exalted leader? (Thanks to the ToI's brillinat internet team, the article can't be found - but please do read the ToI)
However, back to the point, yesterday was all about another baldie - a man who managed to push his aging legs to the limit. A man who after 54 games finally found the games greatest striker. Did I mention I'm an Arsenal fan, so I do love TH. But yesterday was all about Zizou - the man and the player and elevated France to the top of the pile, again! This after their woeful performance against Switzerland and South Korea (even though the Koreans did get lucky with refereeing decisions, as usual). This maybe his swansong tournament, but Zidane is going to play (almost) the full complement of games (he missed the Togo game when TH and Viera came to the fore). Who would have thunk it? The French, the sputtering, misfiring French and not the Anglais or the plasticated Brazilians. If France win this World Cup, Zidane should quit and stand for President of France, I'm pretty much confident that he will win.
So 32 began and now four are left, who is your money on now folks?
On another note, tonight is the serpentine wedding, unfortunately Snakeman will not give us daaru tonight, so I'm pretty bummed out but that isn't an excuse not to attend. But to Snakeman and Choti - here is to a great life!