Picspam: Birthday boy.
I’ll keep it simple and corny, rom-com styled. ‘Cause that’s how I roll.
- To a former world No 1. Hopefully a future one too.
- To a husband, a father, a leader. Roles growing more important to him as time goes by.
- To Mr Hair. Mr Monogram. To looking past the surface at the man beneath.
- To grace, integrity, diligence. Qualities I try to emulate beyond the field of sport.
- To my writing inspiration. The reason I have a habit of recording thoughts down everyday.
- To tennis. It goes on with or without him. But all the better with.
- To 16 slams, countless records. Don’t think for a second that I don’t count myself lucky to be the fan who gets to complain about her favourite player not making TWENTY-FOUR slam semifinals in a row. I try to say it sparingly, but you really are out of this world, Roger Federer.
- All that glory, all that fame ever gave – to the hottie who wears bright pink and baby blue in front of his jock mates.
And last but not least, to friendships with the most insightful, thoughtful fans around the world. People I constantly learn from. What would my life be like if you were all strangers? Less colourful, I presume.
I’m not celebrating the birthday of a man I don’t personally know. I’m celebrating the thing that brought us all together. So happy barfday, Woger McFed. Now go win this fucking thing already.