Finally, a non-bitch wins Wimbledon again.
And unlike the last year's champion, she's an actual she, rather than a doped-up biceps-fueled he-beast from the nether regions of Gahannah. You all know what awful creature I'm referring to.
The England Lawn Championships, or whatever the fuck they're called, is a collection of non-cow-grazing green pastures where assholes (Sampras) and bitches (Sereno) nearly always win. It's almost as if the non-existent Satan himself picks the winners there.
In no other Grand Slam tournament do pricks (Federer) and cunts (Graf) dominate with as much consistency and frequency as in London. It's a mystery on par with the Egyptian Pyramids, this ugly and bizarre phenomenon of dicks (Becker/Navratilova) winning so often in Wimbledon. The phrase "nice guys finish last" must have started there.
So what a refreshing change to see a break in this shitty tradition, especially since Marion has been one of the most fun-to-watch female pros in the past decade.
Can Azarenka or Buster Keaton do this? |
Marion lives in her own bubble, that much is certain, and she doesn't give a toss that many people (those who root for assholes and bitches) shake their empty heads at her on-court shenanigans. I, for one, have always enjoyed her silly behaviour. And it's not as if she's being quirky for the sake of it; she is like that, i.e. she's not an attention-seeking phony trying to present the crowds with artificial, lame gags.
Perhaps the only Wimbledon champion ever to have fist-pumped after every single won point. |
She's an original: a one-of-a-kind, two-handed-playing slightly chubby weirdo who does her own thing, competing in a sea of dull WTA and ATP pros, many of whom look and behave much more like accountants and bankers. Whoever resents her uniqueness must be one of those numerous overweight, self-loathing Federer/Sereno fans, i.e. those bird-brained types who only root for and support champions and no.1s.
Marion's universe, which is a place only she inhabits, allows for slapstick to be part of her game. Her frantic mini-sprints, her brief hops and jumps, and her fast-and-furious hit-the-air-hard racket swings - all of which occur between points - never fail to amuse me. They make Nadal's ass-picking seem normal.
Occasionally, she even makes me laugh out loud. She's hilarious. And it certainly doesn't hurt that she's got a fairly decent-looking face.
Not a beauty by any means, but pleasing to the eye - especially when she makes those I-gotta-win-the-next-point grimaces.
And yet, a certain British sports commentator bitched on-air this weekend that Bartoli "isn't a looker".
John Inverdale: incompetent broadcaster, latent homosexual, flaming poof. |
So John, in his infinite non-wisdom, complained about Bartoli's looks. Has this dumb ape not seen the past winners of Wimbledon?
These beauties won a grand total of 30 Wimbledon singles titles. Did John ever complain that they all look like garbage-bin contents? No. Did he even notice it? Hmm. |
And then this buffoon complains about the decent-looking Bartoli... Wow. He must be secretly attracted to vampires, butch lesbians, and she-beasts.
Jacques Tati is often named as the Master of French Comedy - though I never quite understood why. I'd be much more at ease with Marion holding that title.
Not funny. Funny. |
She's a natural, and a strange sort, kind of like a cross between Karl Pilkington and Muriel from the Aussie comedy Muriel's Wedding.
I don't give a shit that she didn't beat any big names on the way to the Wimbledon title. Who the hell cares? The important thing is that finally somebody interesting and non-Satanic won on London's cow-fields.
She has won her first Slam title in the 47th try, which is close to being an Open Era record for both sexes. I find this kind of thing far more interesting and better for tennis than when the same players win the majors, over and over and over.
And she beat a bitch in the finale. Perfect.
Don't miss this list!
77 Things You Ought To Know About Pro Tennis
http://vjetropev.blogspot.com/2013/07/42-things-you-ought-to-know-about.html
TBM
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