Day 0 - On your left "bogeyman." Vaguely remember Toto Riina "u'curtu" twenty years ago, when railed against the persecution of judges. I think you would call a non-judicial day. Times change.
Novak Djokovic 8. So. Imagine Arthur Fonzarelli in obvious difficulty in pronouncing the word "sorry". And you'll have my picture distressed, and I have to invent something be written to the Serbian. And the reference, this sort of intellectual scaffold. He led a tournament on the verge of perfection, touching ammerter (selo). Beyond a flawless final against the ghost cheese Murray, builds with impeccable triumph, which has not forgiven the lightness of a dreamy Federer. Indeed, desperately hungry as a wild boar. Only seen a few scenes in the slaughterhouse on the outskirts. Repeating the success of the slam in a test three years after his first statement. It will also say something too. Three years of hardship and manifest arrogance tennis, that have prevented the final explosion. A triumph of facets, grimacing ugliness of a legendary, medical time out, and withdrawals from hypochondriac ailments, theaters and broken shoe so constructed. Made by these distortions trembling, discovered a player has run consistent, determined, strong. This is enough to reduce the gap from the first two, or at least take advantage of some of their eclipse. A mental maturity, but also physical, to which even his supporters seem to have lost hope after seeing him bullied and teased, not so long ago, by good people, but elderly or dying from competitions (Haas and Kohlschreiber). The Djokovic blossomed as crooked birch in autumn is a new player. Mentally calm and physically effective, though epic inelegance. Just see it, cripple and jointed legs, like a puppet irreducible, slingshots on every ball. It's never too late. If not for pleasure, at least to win.
Andy Murray: 7 . Here it is, another new hero. Nole, who together with us to quickly forget the Federer-Nadal rivalry. It takes just three minutes of the final, to get two or three crosses in reverse, and hope is just a nightmare. For tennis. The Scot failed a third Grand Slam final. And if two clues make a try, three would be sufficient to sketch a decision at first instance. Without praise, tricks and bureaucratic competence defects taking. Andy is a weather vane in the middle of the tattered, beaten Serbian impetuous wind. In the belief that his head was enough to provide a normal "Pallettaristicamente" varies from the bottom. Somewhere here and there, to harness the frantic opponent. But that, with a calf behind his back, and the other leg stretched out to 180 degrees, easily takes every stroke of the needle dead Scotsman, before placing the winner. There is up to the match 4-4, then it is a sad accompanied by drifting, as whale slope, despite what gnashing of teeth nightmare. Mamma Jude, caparisoned as the priestess of a satanic cult, commands "calm and plaster. The sign is clearly not to miss the Trebizond, and continue to do so. Calmly, Chesnokov was to row even with a nice hand. And the "Phantoms" British obeys, without dare something different. Even though he could. No wonder the defeat, but the tragic resignation. Why slam a can not lose without feeling something, even below 2 September One of snobbery and careless contempt, for no reason. Involution embarrassing than the end of 2010, when the Scot played a match to the limit of its possibilities, even before succumbing to a sumptuous Federer. For the wild "big baby" of Scotland, we need a drastic solution. Finally rid of that tragicomic suffocating relationship with his "factotum" tamer, to find a coach seriously, give up the nintendo.
David Ferrer 7. Restless eye, tufts of hair hanging eyes, square jaw, and screaming like resurgence demonic beast, and harpoons great shots of roughness. In the quarterfinals against Nadal, enters the field with the usual resignation. In looking down the clear consciousness of another carnage from having to bear with great dignity and a towel over his shoulder to chew, to relax the nerves. Then that other break after three games and he, almost embarrassed, could only coat against the simulacrum sick. Wins in the end, inevitably. It makes life difficult even with Murray in the semifinals. In retrospect, he would have given more verve in the final. Think of where we are.
Roger Federer: 6.5 . The sleeping king, and pauses between bursts ancient colossal. Virtuoso solos and glaring cues. Switch with ease from the proverbial soliloquies that do not allow human replica, a dormant escapes from mundane reality. Doth court to annihilate the Martian Malisse and then revived his compatriot Wawrinka in the quarter. Apparently running at, also freed the impending threat of Nadal, already out. But is there, just to make unnecessary psychodrama literature, which at an unconscious level must have relaxed. Djokovic, who eats a salad psychology, had no thought of pity, and while that other leaden shadows stretched out on flowers, you leap on its prey. The stand of the old monarch, it combines more than Bertoldo: A set fought, lost to decisive sprint. Another left there for 7-5, after yet another escape from forgetful, when leading 5-2. The third, in which he can not show their teeth, despite a 4-4 controbreak on when the other began to tremble a little. Connors headway in that, without an immaculate talent on which to recline, would have provided a multiple orgasm with lots of whirling fists in the face of astonished people in the front rows, trance and competitive victory in the fifth.
Rafael Nadal. 6.5 . Surrenders. The physical. As it is almost normal for a player who has exasperated the reason for their athletic achievements. Little more than Sgambati relaxed until the quarterfinals, where the crime occurs. Pay a hamstring injury of the left thigh. Nagging ailments that did not prevent him from continuing. As a common standard and without being able to force changes in the inhuman race, recovery and hook, which made it number one in the world. Running and tennis player was playing three sets as normal. If not normal, as we say Bolelli. His tennis is so forced, especially on hard surfaces, exposes them to risks of the trade. Does not withdraw, perhaps not to ruin the joy of his compatriot Ferrer, and give him a joy. With so mournful and resigned expression.
Stanislas Wawrinka: 6 . That reverse haughty and proud of him, is like seeing the pouting lips of Scarlett Johansson on the face of Ignazio La Russa. Other quarter-finals, after the beautiful ride in New York. Let the crumbs to the predestined Grigor Dimitrov and two older teenagers / young lines like Monfils (5, whatever) and Roddick (4.5 waning or spirit). Then he resigned from pageboy to watch the show above, against the famous countryman, Roger Federer. Why's disease "beautiful tennis player register" does not ever heal completely.
Alexand Dolgopolov: 7 . Bursts onto the scene like a tornado ipertricotico nell'ingessata second week of the Southern Slam. Devalues \u200b\u200bthe power of Tsonga and Soderling blurred. Fight even with Murray in the quarterfinals. Legs dry, frenetic movements and tics maddening, but fast and with one arm. A dragonfly crazy striking blows with the fluid violence. If the body holds, 2011 will be the year of Ukraine with the crown of the Madonna del Pozzo.
Robin Soderling: 5.5 . Pistolesi, who as usual, marred only two musk oxen ate fried in lard colonnade, perhaps expected something more from his new pupil. Mandate turns out to be an inspired Dolgopolov. Instead it shows the limits and dangers of tennis even funny in its blind and ignorant violence. The robot is designed to destroy short-circuited neurocerebral, just need to devise something different. We know that.
Juan Martin Del Potro: 6 (of human understanding). melancholy mixed with dismay, raises his job back, as if the minor version of the other son of Tandil (Juan Monaco, 5.5). Twelve months after his wrist was shattered, still shows the scars of a serious injury to overcome. Physically and mentally. Just a normal Baghdatis to take him out. For those who do not want to resign, postponed until September (or the two U.S. Masters 1000 March / April).
Mikhail Youzhny: 5 --. unwittingly finds himself on board a semi-final. But implode under the halberds miserably terrifying Milos Raonic. This time only one arm on a physical and bolso brains similar to a basket in which eels lurk drugged with morphine, is not enough. Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
: 5.5 . Petzschner beats and Seppi, almost playing with the cat darting mice and invertebrates. Then if you jelly, though in poor condition. Yield to the majority of freshness and liveliness Dolgopolov. Unfortunately only a few stops slide el'introiezione crowds of a magnificent player capable of unpredictable power and embroidery. The delirious concert drums and violins, which only a junkie in withdrawal symptoms could not believe real for more than two or three games random (public apology, and head covered with ashes). A prayer to him
Jankko Tipsarevic: 4.5 . Ridicules the spectrum for two sets of jammed Verdasco. Then, as I mentally prepare the restatement related to the horseflies of "plague" of Sartre and ontologically transcendent ego wonders applied to the tormented nothing. It is found in the shower. While that other shaking their fists in a sign of joy.
Fernando Verdasco: 5 -. Reduced to a look Almagro (3.5 to face the tragic), just a little 'more sustainable. With that hair be castrato capercaillie, could be the perfect defensive partner for Materazzi. Or an intellectual tronista De Filippi. Only one more loser than he (Tipsarevic, ed), saves in the second round elimination. Makes its voice against an exhausted Nishikori, and surrenders to the gentle beating death bloodless on Berdych. Tarantolato bully, sometimes even funny anachronistic in his racing foam. Once again, whipping your bare hands weak, sacrificial lamb with Crestino lowered against the many Cav. Pezzella (the one for Prince De Curtis was a symbol of power). Now good for the team from Lele Mora, or advertising of Tabasco expired.
Nikolay Davydenko: 4.5 . What else do you expect. Has left any residual energy in Doha. Exhausted and returned to the hospice by the beautiful big cat scratches Biman German Florian Mayer.
Thomas Berdych: 6 . Can you say "I is on the ball?" I write it then.
Milos Raonic: 6.5 . Canadian Slavic origin, for at least a couple of years ago shouting imminent explosion. Pesta hard to Toronto (in the limit of Gramby challengers), then disappears victim of bad luck. In Melbourne instead explodes in all its violent potential. Service devastating blows to bounce powerful without having to rape volleys at any cost, how many "run-and-pull" of his generation. Would also suffice. Like a steamroller passes sailed on people, although fatua as Llodra and Youzhny. Against all odds (certainly not mine, I know more of the devil). Surrenders only eighth, but not before demonstrating that the shots to beat a Ferrer own them.
Grigor Dimitrov: 6 . Referred to as the chosen one by at least a couple of years, has come to terms with the harsh reality. He rolled up his sleeves and started all over again in the challenger. In Australia moves to boost the skills and shreds easily spectrum Andrei Golubev (more Italian), before yielding to Wawrinka. Too early to say whether the small tube made of Federer can become champion, but top 20 no doubt.
simpering loser futility. Wide and the usually abundant, the fauna of the losers in trade. Committed to amuse evidently altered minds, trapped in a nihilistic delusion with no way out. Obviously, all without the vote that is given to living beings. For Richard Gasquet we risk yet another interesting dissertation sull'autopsia of an alien non-existent. Minimalist beats compatriot Mannarino, yields without even a flicker to Thomas Berdych. Not even a faint trace of the seventeen brazen that surpassed Federer in Monte Carlo. Much less that of a backhand passing shot ten feet off the pitch. Now roams the field as any boy in anguish, treated with the electrodes on the temples. The wild flight of a dove, cured of some luminary, cutting off the wings. Amen. There is Kohli, who just broke a couple of years ago on the fields of Melbourne scalped taste of Andy Roddick to the sound of rain. It draws a handful this year. This is enough to win the first set and teach Berdych tennis. Then he perched in his gingerbread caramel alcove, and lost the fourth. How can we forget
Philipp Petzschner . Inspired and excited wriggling like a squid, mocked the shape tennis Tsonga Jo-limp. For September 2 Then he thinks that it may even win, the brain does "James-James," and Hello Pepp. In vain attempts to show all his competitive spirit by angry chinchillas, in the September 5 New followers of the sect of altered genes in themselves, is Benoit Paire . Honor the best wild card Flavio Cipolla fine the willing in the first round. Light-hearted, naive, and surreal as a scruffy stray cat. Unpredictable and sometimes brilliant, but still too arranged. Between a bunt balls anesthetized and a hail of arrows from winning repeatedly. He lost in four sets pulled Ivan Ljubicic, a match that despite semidilettanteschi limits, the Bohemian Alps could even win.
tragic futility loser (italtennis). Oh-là. Fabio Fognini , our treacherous "McSafin" less talented Ginepri is the guy who brings great opportunities. Kei Nishikori joke from the first round, despite a handful of Italians encourage him so moving: "The sewer force." Locked up for those who first devised a similar horrific pseudonym. Despite everything, is our prodottino best (he also said the Maionchi). Andreas Seppi light of the scorching blue sky of Australia. Retrieves two sets of disadvantage to a nice gnome Methuselah with glasses (Clement). The treacherous, aggressive and vehement albino tiger cub makes its voice. Tsonga also forced two tie-break, obviously lost. Filippo Volandri . Col challenger willing to wander all over Italy in lambretta, has regained the top 100 and a paid trip to Australia. The fitting of three sets for Andreev resistance is the most we could expect from one where they showed the cement at 17. Potito Starace . Asphalt by Soderling, before you even enter the field. Simone Bolelli . Only praise for our "small Federer." Shoulder it has run an exhausting journey across the ocean. Want to sleep lost by the young talent? Endured with courage the distance from the softness and comfort of a tennis family version. Then Crugnola unbeaten in qualifying, but we should not punish him. He's only 26 years. Forward slowly. It may be that two shifts in Courmayeur them steps too. Flavio Cipolla. He means that it takes character and will to work. Skip the qualifications, maybe even fall in the first hundred. More than that you can not even imagine.
Novak Djokovic 8. So. Imagine Arthur Fonzarelli in obvious difficulty in pronouncing the word "sorry". And you'll have my picture distressed, and I have to invent something be written to the Serbian. And the reference, this sort of intellectual scaffold. He led a tournament on the verge of perfection, touching ammerter (selo). Beyond a flawless final against the ghost cheese Murray, builds with impeccable triumph, which has not forgiven the lightness of a dreamy Federer. Indeed, desperately hungry as a wild boar. Only seen a few scenes in the slaughterhouse on the outskirts. Repeating the success of the slam in a test three years after his first statement. It will also say something too. Three years of hardship and manifest arrogance tennis, that have prevented the final explosion. A triumph of facets, grimacing ugliness of a legendary, medical time out, and withdrawals from hypochondriac ailments, theaters and broken shoe so constructed. Made by these distortions trembling, discovered a player has run consistent, determined, strong. This is enough to reduce the gap from the first two, or at least take advantage of some of their eclipse. A mental maturity, but also physical, to which even his supporters seem to have lost hope after seeing him bullied and teased, not so long ago, by good people, but elderly or dying from competitions (Haas and Kohlschreiber). The Djokovic blossomed as crooked birch in autumn is a new player. Mentally calm and physically effective, though epic inelegance. Just see it, cripple and jointed legs, like a puppet irreducible, slingshots on every ball. It's never too late. If not for pleasure, at least to win.
Andy Murray: 7 . Here it is, another new hero. Nole, who together with us to quickly forget the Federer-Nadal rivalry. It takes just three minutes of the final, to get two or three crosses in reverse, and hope is just a nightmare. For tennis. The Scot failed a third Grand Slam final. And if two clues make a try, three would be sufficient to sketch a decision at first instance. Without praise, tricks and bureaucratic competence defects taking. Andy is a weather vane in the middle of the tattered, beaten Serbian impetuous wind. In the belief that his head was enough to provide a normal "Pallettaristicamente" varies from the bottom. Somewhere here and there, to harness the frantic opponent. But that, with a calf behind his back, and the other leg stretched out to 180 degrees, easily takes every stroke of the needle dead Scotsman, before placing the winner. There is up to the match 4-4, then it is a sad accompanied by drifting, as whale slope, despite what gnashing of teeth nightmare. Mamma Jude, caparisoned as the priestess of a satanic cult, commands "calm and plaster. The sign is clearly not to miss the Trebizond, and continue to do so. Calmly, Chesnokov was to row even with a nice hand. And the "Phantoms" British obeys, without dare something different. Even though he could. No wonder the defeat, but the tragic resignation. Why slam a can not lose without feeling something, even below 2 September One of snobbery and careless contempt, for no reason. Involution embarrassing than the end of 2010, when the Scot played a match to the limit of its possibilities, even before succumbing to a sumptuous Federer. For the wild "big baby" of Scotland, we need a drastic solution. Finally rid of that tragicomic suffocating relationship with his "factotum" tamer, to find a coach seriously, give up the nintendo.
David Ferrer 7. Restless eye, tufts of hair hanging eyes, square jaw, and screaming like resurgence demonic beast, and harpoons great shots of roughness. In the quarterfinals against Nadal, enters the field with the usual resignation. In looking down the clear consciousness of another carnage from having to bear with great dignity and a towel over his shoulder to chew, to relax the nerves. Then that other break after three games and he, almost embarrassed, could only coat against the simulacrum sick. Wins in the end, inevitably. It makes life difficult even with Murray in the semifinals. In retrospect, he would have given more verve in the final. Think of where we are.
Roger Federer: 6.5 . The sleeping king, and pauses between bursts ancient colossal. Virtuoso solos and glaring cues. Switch with ease from the proverbial soliloquies that do not allow human replica, a dormant escapes from mundane reality. Doth court to annihilate the Martian Malisse and then revived his compatriot Wawrinka in the quarter. Apparently running at, also freed the impending threat of Nadal, already out. But is there, just to make unnecessary psychodrama literature, which at an unconscious level must have relaxed. Djokovic, who eats a salad psychology, had no thought of pity, and while that other leaden shadows stretched out on flowers, you leap on its prey. The stand of the old monarch, it combines more than Bertoldo: A set fought, lost to decisive sprint. Another left there for 7-5, after yet another escape from forgetful, when leading 5-2. The third, in which he can not show their teeth, despite a 4-4 controbreak on when the other began to tremble a little. Connors headway in that, without an immaculate talent on which to recline, would have provided a multiple orgasm with lots of whirling fists in the face of astonished people in the front rows, trance and competitive victory in the fifth.
Rafael Nadal. 6.5 . Surrenders. The physical. As it is almost normal for a player who has exasperated the reason for their athletic achievements. Little more than Sgambati relaxed until the quarterfinals, where the crime occurs. Pay a hamstring injury of the left thigh. Nagging ailments that did not prevent him from continuing. As a common standard and without being able to force changes in the inhuman race, recovery and hook, which made it number one in the world. Running and tennis player was playing three sets as normal. If not normal, as we say Bolelli. His tennis is so forced, especially on hard surfaces, exposes them to risks of the trade. Does not withdraw, perhaps not to ruin the joy of his compatriot Ferrer, and give him a joy. With so mournful and resigned expression.
Stanislas Wawrinka: 6 . That reverse haughty and proud of him, is like seeing the pouting lips of Scarlett Johansson on the face of Ignazio La Russa. Other quarter-finals, after the beautiful ride in New York. Let the crumbs to the predestined Grigor Dimitrov and two older teenagers / young lines like Monfils (5, whatever) and Roddick (4.5 waning or spirit). Then he resigned from pageboy to watch the show above, against the famous countryman, Roger Federer. Why's disease "beautiful tennis player register" does not ever heal completely.
Alexand Dolgopolov: 7 . Bursts onto the scene like a tornado ipertricotico nell'ingessata second week of the Southern Slam. Devalues \u200b\u200bthe power of Tsonga and Soderling blurred. Fight even with Murray in the quarterfinals. Legs dry, frenetic movements and tics maddening, but fast and with one arm. A dragonfly crazy striking blows with the fluid violence. If the body holds, 2011 will be the year of Ukraine with the crown of the Madonna del Pozzo.
Robin Soderling: 5.5 . Pistolesi, who as usual, marred only two musk oxen ate fried in lard colonnade, perhaps expected something more from his new pupil. Mandate turns out to be an inspired Dolgopolov. Instead it shows the limits and dangers of tennis even funny in its blind and ignorant violence. The robot is designed to destroy short-circuited neurocerebral, just need to devise something different. We know that.
Juan Martin Del Potro: 6 (of human understanding). melancholy mixed with dismay, raises his job back, as if the minor version of the other son of Tandil (Juan Monaco, 5.5). Twelve months after his wrist was shattered, still shows the scars of a serious injury to overcome. Physically and mentally. Just a normal Baghdatis to take him out. For those who do not want to resign, postponed until September (or the two U.S. Masters 1000 March / April).
Mikhail Youzhny: 5 --. unwittingly finds himself on board a semi-final. But implode under the halberds miserably terrifying Milos Raonic. This time only one arm on a physical and bolso brains similar to a basket in which eels lurk drugged with morphine, is not enough. Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
: 5.5 . Petzschner beats and Seppi, almost playing with the cat darting mice and invertebrates. Then if you jelly, though in poor condition. Yield to the majority of freshness and liveliness Dolgopolov. Unfortunately only a few stops slide el'introiezione crowds of a magnificent player capable of unpredictable power and embroidery. The delirious concert drums and violins, which only a junkie in withdrawal symptoms could not believe real for more than two or three games random (public apology, and head covered with ashes). A prayer to him
Jankko Tipsarevic: 4.5 . Ridicules the spectrum for two sets of jammed Verdasco. Then, as I mentally prepare the restatement related to the horseflies of "plague" of Sartre and ontologically transcendent ego wonders applied to the tormented nothing. It is found in the shower. While that other shaking their fists in a sign of joy.
Fernando Verdasco: 5 -. Reduced to a look Almagro (3.5 to face the tragic), just a little 'more sustainable. With that hair be castrato capercaillie, could be the perfect defensive partner for Materazzi. Or an intellectual tronista De Filippi. Only one more loser than he (Tipsarevic, ed), saves in the second round elimination. Makes its voice against an exhausted Nishikori, and surrenders to the gentle beating death bloodless on Berdych. Tarantolato bully, sometimes even funny anachronistic in his racing foam. Once again, whipping your bare hands weak, sacrificial lamb with Crestino lowered against the many Cav. Pezzella (the one for Prince De Curtis was a symbol of power). Now good for the team from Lele Mora, or advertising of Tabasco expired.
Nikolay Davydenko: 4.5 . What else do you expect. Has left any residual energy in Doha. Exhausted and returned to the hospice by the beautiful big cat scratches Biman German Florian Mayer.
Thomas Berdych: 6 . Can you say "I is on the ball?" I write it then.
Milos Raonic: 6.5 . Canadian Slavic origin, for at least a couple of years ago shouting imminent explosion. Pesta hard to Toronto (in the limit of Gramby challengers), then disappears victim of bad luck. In Melbourne instead explodes in all its violent potential. Service devastating blows to bounce powerful without having to rape volleys at any cost, how many "run-and-pull" of his generation. Would also suffice. Like a steamroller passes sailed on people, although fatua as Llodra and Youzhny. Against all odds (certainly not mine, I know more of the devil). Surrenders only eighth, but not before demonstrating that the shots to beat a Ferrer own them.
Grigor Dimitrov: 6 . Referred to as the chosen one by at least a couple of years, has come to terms with the harsh reality. He rolled up his sleeves and started all over again in the challenger. In Australia moves to boost the skills and shreds easily spectrum Andrei Golubev (more Italian), before yielding to Wawrinka. Too early to say whether the small tube made of Federer can become champion, but top 20 no doubt.
simpering loser futility. Wide and the usually abundant, the fauna of the losers in trade. Committed to amuse evidently altered minds, trapped in a nihilistic delusion with no way out. Obviously, all without the vote that is given to living beings. For Richard Gasquet we risk yet another interesting dissertation sull'autopsia of an alien non-existent. Minimalist beats compatriot Mannarino, yields without even a flicker to Thomas Berdych. Not even a faint trace of the seventeen brazen that surpassed Federer in Monte Carlo. Much less that of a backhand passing shot ten feet off the pitch. Now roams the field as any boy in anguish, treated with the electrodes on the temples. The wild flight of a dove, cured of some luminary, cutting off the wings. Amen. There is Kohli, who just broke a couple of years ago on the fields of Melbourne scalped taste of Andy Roddick to the sound of rain. It draws a handful this year. This is enough to win the first set and teach Berdych tennis. Then he perched in his gingerbread caramel alcove, and lost the fourth. How can we forget
Philipp Petzschner . Inspired and excited wriggling like a squid, mocked the shape tennis Tsonga Jo-limp. For September 2 Then he thinks that it may even win, the brain does "James-James," and Hello Pepp. In vain attempts to show all his competitive spirit by angry chinchillas, in the September 5 New followers of the sect of altered genes in themselves, is Benoit Paire . Honor the best wild card Flavio Cipolla fine the willing in the first round. Light-hearted, naive, and surreal as a scruffy stray cat. Unpredictable and sometimes brilliant, but still too arranged. Between a bunt balls anesthetized and a hail of arrows from winning repeatedly. He lost in four sets pulled Ivan Ljubicic, a match that despite semidilettanteschi limits, the Bohemian Alps could even win.
tragic futility loser (italtennis). Oh-là. Fabio Fognini , our treacherous "McSafin" less talented Ginepri is the guy who brings great opportunities. Kei Nishikori joke from the first round, despite a handful of Italians encourage him so moving: "The sewer force." Locked up for those who first devised a similar horrific pseudonym. Despite everything, is our prodottino best (he also said the Maionchi). Andreas Seppi light of the scorching blue sky of Australia. Retrieves two sets of disadvantage to a nice gnome Methuselah with glasses (Clement). The treacherous, aggressive and vehement albino tiger cub makes its voice. Tsonga also forced two tie-break, obviously lost. Filippo Volandri . Col challenger willing to wander all over Italy in lambretta, has regained the top 100 and a paid trip to Australia. The fitting of three sets for Andreev resistance is the most we could expect from one where they showed the cement at 17. Potito Starace . Asphalt by Soderling, before you even enter the field. Simone Bolelli . Only praise for our "small Federer." Shoulder it has run an exhausting journey across the ocean. Want to sleep lost by the young talent? Endured with courage the distance from the softness and comfort of a tennis family version. Then Crugnola unbeaten in qualifying, but we should not punish him. He's only 26 years. Forward slowly. It may be that two shifts in Courmayeur them steps too. Flavio Cipolla. He means that it takes character and will to work. Skip the qualifications, maybe even fall in the first hundred. More than that you can not even imagine.
