Me and a Big Stick

The Australian Open is on.

I know this because I opened up the DVR menu to play back a recording of the new Candace Olson show and saw that 7 hours of day one already recorded.

My DVR is psychic. Which is freaky.

We told it, way back in 2006 when we lived in another house, that we wanted it to record Wimbledon. It will now record Wimbledon every year until robots take over the earth and turn the All England Lawn and Racquet Club into a Jiffy Lube.

It’s uncanny, our DVR, the way we tell it we want to record something once and it knows forever more. Eventually it will start making programming decisions for us and we’ll find that instead of “The Big Bang Theory” that is recording episodes of Nova that are hosted by Steven Hawking because it’s tired of us pursuing lightweight entertainment.

But back to tennis.

I love tennis. I was on the tennis team in high school. I accomplished this tremendous athletic feat by showing up at the appointed practice time with a big stick with strings on it.

This was the criteria in my high-school for being on the team. Yay for rural education!

So I love tennis, and watching the premier athletes at one of the Opens is just what I need to remind myself that I love tennis and make me forget that I am not any good at it and inspire me to ransack the garage looking for my graphite alloy stick with the strings on it.

So I’m on the tennis court.

And I SO look like I belong there. I have the cute outfits, I have the good shoes, I have a swanky racquet.

I am the absolute picture of tennis playing pinnacleness.


Until someone hits a ball at me. Then we have this:

But after a few episodes of evading green fuzzy death projectiles my confidence comes back and I can stand facing my opponent (typically the very, very patient man to whom I am married) long enough to make contact between my graphite stick and the furry neon ball of mortality.

I have honed a few quality returns to absolute science. Here is a sampling:

As an elite athlete, I am able to maintain a serious pace on the court and I can typically keep this intensity up for a good two or three minutes.

After which, like all premiere players, I take my rehydration responsibilities very, very seriously.

Vodka and pomegranate anyone?

It’s ok. It’s got mint. It’s totally healthy.

PS – We are watching tape-delay Australian Open and as of this moment have thirty-three thousand hours to catch up on. If you know ANYTHING about the Australian Open – other than the fact that is played in Australia – do not tell me!


  1. I once told my DVR to record “RuPaul’s Drag Race” and it somehow decided that meant I liked NASCAR. And I’m pretty sure the viewership of those 2 things does NOT overlap!

  2. Your school wasn’t nearly rural enough. Half our tennis team smoked Virginia Slims and the other half did wear trampy skirts. Guess which half I was on?

  3. The graphics are priceless, Lori.
    You’re setting the bar pretty high for yourself with this one though…right down to the pom-poms.
    My favorite bit, however, is this: “furry neon ball of mortality.”
    Giggle. :)

  4. I didn’t know there was an Australian Open.

    I played tennis briefly in 7th grade. Very briefly because two things that I hate more than most are 1. Standing out in the hot sun and 2. Having projectiles shot at me. And since tennis combines both these things (As does softball) I gave up playing quickly.

  5. You pretty much captured my tennis abilities to a tee (oops, I think that is golf…I’m very good at golf, it ranks right under my tennis abilities)

    We would make a good matched set. (which means I’ll stir the drinks, you can pick out the cute skirts)

  6. Is the Australian Open the one that’s on clay? That would be all I know.

    I was on the high school tennis team too. I think we may have gone to the same school. My ability to stand upright enabled me to meet all of the criteria for joining the team.

  7. Oh just lovely. I’m so glad I stopped by from Kludgy Mom. This is great stuff. Do you know Life in the Pitts? She does stick figures too and you both have the talent to make them FUNNY.

  8. Oh, Lori, I bet you are the cutest little be-pom-pomed thing on that court. I, too, have mastered the “on its way to Cleveland.” It just shows what power we possess. Now if only we could harness that power in the right direction. Ah, who the hell cares. It’s time to rehydrate.

  9. One time I was at the US Open and Pete Sampras barfed on a towel and people were fighting over it, trying to get it.

    Martina Navratilova and I had a lovely conversation – after she told me I couldn’t interview her because she hated the publication I worked for at the time (something about the annual swimsuit issue).

    But honestly? I’d rather watch Marthatralova and her pink pom pon tennis socks. You have mad skillz, my friend!

  10. Do you realize what this means? We could have been on the tennis team, TOGETHER. Looking totally hot in our non-trampy tennis skirts. ‘Cause I was on the team, too. And I played 1st singles. And I was captain. And you know what is so sad about that? I sucked. And I was 1st singles and captain. But I knew the rules, dang it. So that makes me eligible.

    Let’s play a 2 to 3 minute match, shall we?

    I told you I should have been in your court. Queen’s court, that is.

  11. Dear Ms. Lori,
    Mother Hen has never played tennis, for two very good reasons.
    1. Rackets are very hard to hold with wings.
    2. Fuzzy yellow tennis balls have a remarkable resemblance to fuzzy yellow chicks when one is incredibly near-sighted.
    Unathletically yours,
    Mother Hen

  12. I took you for a scrunchee wearer. I like banana clips.

    I’m so envious that you can play tennis. My rural upbringing enables me to do things like waterski without skis – you just hang on to the rope and get thrashed through the water.

  13. Thankyou Bloggess and CommentLuv.

    I loved this and your adorable stick figure pictures.
    Reminded me of the time I was on a pretty much undefeated girl’s cricket team in high school… because nobody else had a team to play against us four girls.
    Leg guards are hilarious to try and run about in though.

  14. Lori, your pictures alone are worthy of their own blog! And I love that you’ve finally found a way for the Trampy Skirt to not REALLY be trampy. It’s a Tennis Skirt, dammit!

    Any drink with vodka and mint is really only for rehydration purposes anyway. No matter what anyone else says.

  15. How can I not love this post? Big Bang Theory – awesome. Lori Marthatralova – genius. With tennis skirt and scrunchie, no less! I took tennis lessons the summer after 6th grade. Enjoyed it, but not hugely into it.

    Oh, and I loved that our DVR remembered to record Psych because it’s on weird season timing. But then we switched cable companies and got a new DVR, and I had to reset all the shows, and I’ve missed a lot. Boo.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s