Saturday, February 04, 2006

For a while, on that famous Sunday, it seemed that the kid would win. The God was matched shot-for-shot, wasn't playing at his best (throughout the tournament), and for once, looked hurried! He still lost the first set by a whisker, and wriggled out of trouble to keep the second set on serve at 6-5. 40-0 down on the kid's serve, God suddenly realised that he needed to only win five points in a row to take the set. God only needs to decide these things - they happen automatically after that.

The God had had enough now. He decided to finish it off summarily. 13 games later, the match had changed from a close one to call at 5-7, 7-5 to a largely one sided affair. Order restored.

There are many things that this Australian Open has taught us. The men's game is as unpredictable as ever. That a Cyprian, 54th ranked, unseeded, 20-year-old would make it to the final was shocking in itself, but that he would beat Gimlestob, Stepanek, Roddick, Ljubicic and Nalbandian on the way is outrageous! The God still won, didn't he? What's so unpredictable? Well, no one in men's tennis competes for first place anyway.

The fight for the second spot has heated up as Andy Roddick, the current holder of that title is struggling to perform consistently in Grand Slams. He might still hold that position, for no one else has been even as consistent as him. There's the hard working, counterpunching Hewitt who has been-there-done-that, and shows a lot of spirit each time he plays, but his game seems to be fading. Nalbandian is the only player who has the game to do well on all surfaces, and along with Agassi and the God, he is the only other current player to make it to the semifinals of all the Grand Slam Tournaments. He hasn't won one yet, and seems to be lacking that little extra that is needed to turn a good, solid player into a champion. The problem is not with his game, or his heart, but with his touch, his creativity, and luck. Safin, Nadal and Philippousis make an impact every now and then. All of them have the talent to make it to the number two spot. The problem is with injuries, and in Nadal's case, the fact that he seems powerless any surface but clay.

This is where Baghdatis enters the fray. He's younger than the rest of the pack, precocio

Huemehaha

Water Colder than Arctic ice,
Sprinkled on my scarred face,
Piercing winds, conspicuously absent sun,
A face! My Quest complete!

I know not where I was,
I know not why I was,
I know not what I was,
I know nothing but
Who she was.

She crossed the stream,
With footsteps as sift as the current,
Walking on the water, yes, ON water
Elegant as hundred synchronised dancers
“Huemehaha!” I exclaimed
A smile warmed the waters,
The wind was no more than a bracing breeze,
The sun dispelled the clouds
To catch a glimpse.

“I know not where I am,
I know not why I am,
I know not what I am,
I know nothing but
Who you are,” I said.

She never spoke, never.
And I never stopped, never.
I knew every word I said made an impact,
On both of us.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
No reply. “Everything,” I replied.
I knew I was right.
“Why am I here?”
“I’ll understand when I finish.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“To understand better.”

And it started.
I Spoke, and she listened.
A monologue? No.
She answered everything.
Through her eyes, hands, hair,Through me.