Oh hai Roger.
It’s a tough life, huh? Another tournament, another journeyman turned hero courtesy of donations from Roger Federer Foundation. You’re a good man. But you go home and the babies are crying, Mirka’s giving you the evil eye, Nana and Pop are too busy cooing over the little ones to pay attention to you.
It’s tough. I know. But even so, in the immortal words of Svetlana Kuznetsova: “R U CRAYYYYY?!!”
DO YOU ENJOY DRAGGING YOUR FAMILY AROUND THE WORLD FOR NOTHING? DO YOU THINK PETE SAMPRAS’ RECORD IS GOING TO BREAK ITSELF OUT OF FEAR?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T FIND THE COURT?! IT’S RIGHT UNDER YOUR FUCKING FEET, GOAT-BRAIN!
I know, I know, Ernie’s a toughie.
Back in the day, I used to see him as a future slam winner. These days, I have trouble seeing him as the next Tomas Berdych. And I have no time for the Berdyches of this world. Tennis players are like caviar, once you taste the real thing, you don’t ever want to go back to that fake shit again.
YOU ARE SUPPOSED EXPENSIVE CAVIAR DUDE. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY I PAID TO SEE YOU AT THE AUS OPEN?!! (Granted, you were orgasmically good under the Aussie sun) BUT HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO THE GOOD PEOPLE OF ROME?! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO FEDERBEAR, WHO AS I WRITE THIS, IS HIDING OUT IN MY CLOSET-NO-PUN-INTENDED?!!
Okay, I know I know. I’ll keep my voice down.
I’m really quite a calm person most of the time you know? You just get the worst out of me. It’s your fault, not mine.
And I know – I really do! – that you want to spend time with your daughters. When you were looking listless in the second set, you were probably recalling the good times you spent with the Mighty Babes. “Oh haha! Myla pooped on me this morning, and it was in the shape of John McEnroe’s head! Harharhar!”
It’s fun for you, you don’t wanna miss a thing. I geddit.
BUT YOUR FAMILY NEEDS YOU TO BRING HOME THE BACON DUDE. WHAT DID YOU THINK?!! THAT BACON IS GOING TO SUDDENLY GROW A SMILEY FACE, KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR AND ASK YOU TO SPONSOR A CHILD IN ETHIOPIA?!
FUCK YOU! IF YOU’VE ONLY MADE AS MUCH AS 10 TIMES MY MEAGRE STUDENT WAGE IN 3 TOURNAMENTS, THERE IS PROBABLY SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOUR TENNIS. THE SERVE, THE FOREHAND, THE NERVY THIRD SETS: DEAL WITH IT ALL, ‘CAUSE IT AIN’T GOING TO DEAL WITH ITSELF.
Meanwhile, I’m putting in interim measures and canceling Federporn Friday this week. I’m sorry. OH MY GAWD DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT … I WON’T BUDGE. NO I WON’T! A FAT LOT OF HELP THE EPSN COVER WAS TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE DOWN MATCH POINT.
YOU REALISE THAT YOU CAN NO LONGER WIN MATCHES BY DAZZLING YOUR OPPONENTS WITH YOUR SEX HAIR?! YOU KNOW MY LOL-KITTIES CAN’T ATTACK LATVIAN KIDS FOR YOU?!
Sometimes, I’m not sure that you do.
Here, here’s a button.
– DON’T FIDDLE WITH IT! – when you press it, Swedish hookers will fly out of my basement towards the general direction of Latvia – THEY ONLY FLY TO LATVIA, DON’T GET ANY IDEAS – NO THEY DO NOT “DO” AMERICAN PRO GOLFERS SHUT UP –
I want you to use this next time you’re in trouble, okay?
And here’s a second button.
Only press this in cases of real emergency, because when you do, I will pole-vault myself out of my house, cross the Indian Ocean, over Asia and Europe and onto Centre Court at Wimbledon (let’s hope they’ve got the roof open).
DON’T YOU WORRY ROGIE, I WILL BE THERE.
So what are you going to do? Practice practice practice? NO SHIT. Stop being ‘CRAYYY’? Naturally.
What else are you going to do?
YES. WIN ESTORIL.
Myla and Charlene will each need a makeup brush holder in a year or two if they’re anything like Suri Cruise. YOU ONLY HAVE ONE ESTORIL TROPHY. GO GET ANOTHER ONE BABY BOY.
Until then, I’m not talking to you. In fact, I’m not even going to talk about you.