Sunday, January 27, 2013

It's all over Down Under

Posted by BESS: Several days, by which I mean nights, have passed, and the 2013 Aussie Open is now complete.  I missed talking about a lot of matches, and I also missed a lot of matches.

I did, however, see a good portion of the Murray/Federer five-set semi-final. Was really rooting for Fed in that one. But, alas.

I did NOT see the MTO heard 'round the world... Azarenka's questionable medical time out right after choking away five match points in her semi-final against Sloane Stephens.  After leaving the court and seemingly regrouping, Aza went on to win the match and lose just about any support she might have had. The fans, the media, commentators, other players, the Twitterverse... everyone was in an uproar.

By all accounts it was a rough two days for Azarenka, preparing for the final while dealing with the fallout of that questionable sportsmanship. So tension was high as she and Li Na took the court for the women's championship. What then transpired was riveting TV. 

Three sets complete with a heavily partisan crowd (seemingly all supporting Li), strong play, two medical time outs (unquestionably legit) by Li for rolling her ankle--one combined with slamming her head on the court and being assessed for a concussion, a 10-minute break for Australia Day fireworks outside the stadium, and frequent shots of Aza's box where LMFAO's Redfoo, her friend/perhaps boyfriend, wore a neon, leopard print ensemble with a T-shirt proclaiming "Get your grunt on."

In a word (or three), it was bizarre and unexpected and entertaining, and I enjoyed every moment of it. Until the very end, when Azarenka won.

It marked one of the oddest winning moments I can remember in a grand slam final. She won, and the crowd barely reacted. Here she is, your women's champion, and... tepid applause at best. Reluctant.

Her celebration was, to her credit, muted. She sobbed heavily into her towel, then jogged over to celebrate with her team--getting reassurance from them more than anything else.

So Aza leaves Melbourne with another trophy, and Li Na leaves with a kabillion more fans (conservative estimate.) She's a clearly improved player, and her unending popularity stems as much from her impressive play as for her humorous candor during every single interview. Simply charming.

Well done, Li Na. Hoping the rest of 2013 is just a little bit better than this tournament ended up for you.
 
As for the men's final. Well, I was frankly bored by Murray/Djokovic. And tired. So I took a break after the first two sets (which they split) and then just couldn't be bothered. Something like 28 straight games without a break of serve? Oy.

It was a final between two players I don't really care for, so I wasn't so much rooting for someone as I was rooting against the Djoker. And when it seemed he had taken control of the match, my heart wasn't in it. Especially at 5 a.m.

I'll just say that it wasn't the best match from either of them. And had Murray not played a tough five-set semi just the day before, the result might have been much different.

I did see the end and the trophy presentation (had to wake up for Andre!). The upside: Djokovic didn't rip his shirt off while staggering around court screaming like the Hulk. So there's that.

Also, perhaps my second-favorite tweet from the tournament: SI/CNN/Tennis Channel's Jon Wertheim's random observation and stellar verb usage last night:  "Murray really sausaged his body into his clothes this event."  Hahaha. Nice. (And true.)

Housekeeping
So... it's been fun. But I've missed Dave arguing with me over my dislike of Djokovic or Venus's fashion choices. Perhaps when the French Open rolls around Dave won't find himself quite so busy/sick/out of the country (a bad combination as far as blogging goes.)

I look forward to putting the "mixed" and the "doubles" back into Mixed Doubles.

For those keeping score, both Dave and I picked DelPotro and Sharapova as singles' champions. So clearly, we failed.  Better luck next time, Juan Martin and Maria. Also, Dave and me.

Until Paris... (and, God willing, Rafa...) A bientot!

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