Deepa News
Last year, on a late night whim, I decided to fly across the country and make my first trip to the BNP Paribas Open in Indian Wells. It was a decision I will never regret
How can I put this? It’s been an “interesting” US Open series. For fans of tennis, this part of the year is great because there is almost non-stop tennis for four solid weeks on both the WTA and ATP tours.
Women’s tennis is entering an awkward transition where more and more players are focusing on power and fitness over touch and finesse.
Sure, that second set was much more respectable, offering fleeting glimpses of the Friday Night Lights we were expecting, but Serena was just too good. It was her best of times, and unfortunately, it was one of Maria’s worst.
You can always tell when it’s US Open season as the public courts I tend to go to start having a wait time as the “seasonal” tennis fans dig out their racquets from the depths of their garages to spend some time on the courts. The courts are laden with young, old, advanced, and beginner players.
Sometimes, even at a grand slam, a match is just plain bad. Maybe the two players aren’t evenly matched. Maybe one of them is injured or just having a bad day
Some people say that music or math is the universal language, but I would say that you can make a pretty good case for sport as well. Someone is cheering for someone, somewhere, at all times.
So, the rapture didn’t come. We are all still here, living to see another day, although some of us are doing that with considerably less money.
It’s no secret that being a WTA fan is no easy task. At times we feel insecure, even embarrassed about our love of a sport that to many “isn’t real tennis.”
I finally get what I have been waiting for. Maria won the title in Rome yesterday, and as if that weren’t enough, it was on clay. You read me right. Clay
I so wish I spoke Danish. I don’t know where they get the “Piotr is a crazy slave driver” idea, but this made me giggle
Tennis has always been somewhat of a family endeavor. Your mom or dad probably bought you your first racquet, took you to a local court, and the rest is history
There are few things in life that are so unappetizing to me that I get an extreme visceral reaction at the mere thought of them
First, to those of you who missed me this past week, no need to fear for I am back. A round of exams insisted on stealing the better part of my weeks, but I am back with a new love of this time of the tennis season
Oh the clay. A mere 2 weeks ago, we entered into the “European Clay Season” and as we all slipped and slid our way across the pond, we were greeted by the smell of the rusty dust that parades around as “clay.”
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