The New York Rangers retired Adam Graves' number nine to the garden rafters last night and as expected there was no shortage of tears. Mark Messier gave Graves an introductory speech and unleashed the waterworks almost immediately, something I wish I could have bet on since Messier has made crying his specialty. And actually, people love it! Someone in the stands last night held a sign that read “thanks for making crying cool Mess”. All the guy does is cry and win cups, not bad. As a huge Rangers fan myself, I can tell you that Messier is nothing short of a God in New York. If you want to cry Mess, goddamn it you go ahead, you cry like a bitch if you want. Messier won us the cup, he could steal wigs from cancer patients if he wants to and we would still love him. Graves held it together pretty well but lost it at the end of the ceremony as he stood among his family with his number nine ascending to the rafters. These sorts of honor ceremonies are always a bit emotional, especially when they are done by Madison Square Garden as no one puts on a show like New York, but watching all this has made me realize I have seen a lot of blubbering this past week, most notably by Roger Federer.
Roger Federer began crying uncontrollably after he lost the Australian Open final to Rafael Nadal in five sets last week. Let me say that one more time, Federer began crying after he lost to Nadal. And he wasn't just wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he was all out weeping like a little bitch. There was shaking involved, puffy red eyes, that sad quivering lower lip, all the symptoms of a little bitch. There's no crying in tennis! Nadal wasn't even crying and he won the title! I guess he couldn't cry because he knew how bad it would look having two of tennis' best stand at center court and weep together. Nadal actually had go over to console Federer. I mean it really got awkward. I didn't know whether to keep watching or quietly turn off the TV and slowly walk away. Your supposed to cry when you win not after you lose, nobody wants to see that. In the moment of glory and on nights like Adam Graves night when your legacy is being honored, thats the emotional tears we want to see. Now I'm not trying to be a cold hearted prick here, I have had my moments too. I saw “All Dogs go to Heaven” but c'mon. I was ready to give Fed a pass this time cause he really did play a great, gut-wrenching five setter, but then I learned that this was not the first time he packed up his nuts and had a hissy fit after a loss. He cried after losing to Canas and to Hewitt in Houston a couple of years back. You know what happens when you start crying after losing a game? Your drunk dad gives you smack, thats what. And then he says “stop your damn crying or I'll give you something to cry about” but you already got a smack (and it hurts) so you cry even more and things never really end well. Then you get no fuckin' ice cream either, but hey maybe that was just me. I'm surprised McEnroe didn't come down from the press box and uppercut Fed in the taint.
If anyone should be crying after losing a match it should be Andy Roddick. That guy just cant catch a break. Federer has completely owned Roddick virtually his entire career as he is unbeaten in major tournament matches against Roddick. It always seems Roddick gets only as far as the draw allows him until it is time to face Fed. So many times they have faced one another, so many defeats at the hands of Federer. It seems as if it is in Andy's head that he just cannot beat Roger. How deflating and infuriating do you think that must be. Now that really sucks. One US Open title compared to Fed's 13 titles over all and Fed is the one crying. You've got 13 freakin' titles Roger, let Andy win a couple damn it, or at least do us the favor of not sobbing when you lose one! There is however one area where Roddick cannot be beaten, even by Federer on his best day, and that is in the press conferences where Roddick never disappoints. This guy has some of the best press conferences and interviews I have ever seen. They are fucking hilarious. I don't have time to dive into all the details so if you have time look up some of Andy's work on youtube. It was after Roddick lost the 2006 US Open final to Federer that he really sold me as a Roddick fan. After the loss Micheal Barkan interviewed Roddick at center court and asked Roddick what he needs to do to finally beat Federer. “I don't know, I think next time I should just punch him” says Roddick, with Federer standing right next to him no less! “How about a beer” says Roddick before leaving the tennis court in disgust and thirst, not tears.
Yes sir, I think you and I have a lot in common Mr. Roddick, we could definitely hang out, which suddenly got me thinking. What if Andy Roddick and I hung out? I think it would go something like this: beers, beers, and more beers. After a solid pre-game of beers Andy Roddick and I would head to the bar looking for more beers and chicks. We get to the bar at five-o-clock sharp, sure not to miss a drop of happy hour. Who doesn't love some good old fashioned happy hour, I know I do and I think maybe so does Andy Roddick. We chug down some cheap lite beer and then decree this bar sucks cause theres no chicks, so we leave. Arrive at another bar where we drink beers, beers, and more beers. There are no chicks at this bar either, however there are plenty of suits, young, cocky doushbags who obviously don't have the time to go home and change out of their suits let alone take off their ties at the bar. Andy (we are on first name basis now) gets belligerent and tells the suits he makes more money than them and wishes to kick their ass. We yell “this bar sucks” as we are forced to leave.
Beers, beers, shots, and more beers later, we finally find a bar with some chicks. We watch Nadal beat Federer on TV and laugh like hyenas when Federer cries. Andy makes his way over to the girls as I force down more beers and shots because of my inability to talk to females sober. We get a table with some girls and order more shots and beers. Andy is now surrounded by gorgeous females, I am surrounded by empty glasses and peanut shells (this bar happens to have free peanuts, awesome). More shots, more beers. I begin to get drunk, I feel that I can now talk to girls. Ironically, as I become drunk I start losing my ability to speak. I tell one of the girls I am Andy's younger brother. Andy tells her I am not. Thirsty and frustrated, I take two beers and make my way over to the juke box. I play ToTo, Duran Duran, and oddly enough, three six mafia. On my way back to the table I pass some fat chicks that are completely uninterested in Andy or any sports for that matter. I hesitate for a second but then realize that I am completely uninterested in fat chicks.
Beers, beers, shots, shots, and even more beers. Andy is really working on the girls now and we are both slipping further into intoxication. Andy is flexing a lot now. Eventually he rips off both his sleeves to expose his guns. Insecure about his non-serving arm, he puts one sleeve back on. The girls want to dance. We are both white so no dancing going on here. Girls usually solve this problem by dancing with themselves in a very slutty manner, awesome. One of the girls at the table turns to talk to me. I inadvertently give her the stink eye because I am now wasted. Not a good first impression. I begin to lose the ability to speak to completely now. I speak to her only in a series of grumbles and moans, usually followed by a couple of sighs. She is not impressed. I go to the bathroom, fumble with my zipper and my junk, and eventually pee on myself.
Beers, beers, and more beers. Andy is rich and famous so he is getting laid tonight. I am incoherently wasted and wearing pee pants, not getting laid tonight. Eventually my mumbles, groping and cross-eyes creep out all of the girls and they leave. Andy is not happy and never wants to speak to me again. I stubble out of the bar when he goes to the bathroom and beat him for the tab. Lesson learned: there's no crying in tennis and Andy Roddick and I should hang out more often.
- Bows
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