Day 10 - On your left, inviting all readers to dinner. I hope a few thousand euro each are sufficient
Nadal injured, loses. Both thundered, which eventually rained in the leaden sky of Australia. Too bad that night, and the sky is frighteningly brown wood like Dante trembling. Between screams croak of frogs and weasels. The long-awaited surprise comes at the eleventh hour. In the last match of the eight the quarterfinals of the two boards. Where less than the expected. Just in time to cover with ridicule and expose to public ridicule a poor fool with holes in his shoes and clothes lysis, who had guessed the results of the previous match. On that mentally ill that these repulsive pages, invoked the big surprise. And here it is served, the surprise. Almost mocking. Surreal in its cyclical nature.
Rafael Nadal yields to David Ferrer, leaving the tournament with an unsteady sadness. Give up, before an opponent already prepared and well disposed to the gallows, the flaws of a physical inhumane. Paradox, perhaps. It has now become accustomed, when you comment or read the events of the sample of Manacor, to consult medical treatises not be unprepared. At the risk of having to turn everything into something less interesting than an episode of "Medicine 33." And then imagine me as well, with the same look and wink wink lively Luciano Onder discourses of periodontal disease and duodenal ulcer and duodenal dilatation pigmentosa. Let's start
, entering with zeal into the mare magnum of Medicine article applies to tennis. The match begins and ends after less than three games, when the number one villain feels the tight hamstring the powerful of the left thigh. Immediate intervention of the attendants, lights, ambulance, sorcerers and shamans crazy. All around the precious wounded muscle the gladiator. Shake their heads. Rafa also lowers the big head. But still. The meeting will be inevitably transformed into slow death for the world number one. Be resigned and faces a boxer played the twelfth round. On the other side is not Tyson, but Francesco Damiani. Does not run well, it is too obvious even to those who had glasses to flirt. It is a succession of eyes full of sadness to his corner. None of the proverbial imposts frantic and grim looks from guerrilla hit by lightning jaundice. The slavers to his corner trying to stir, as jockeys who obstinately whipped a horse dies on the straight. Ferrer does his job, as usual. Nothing amazing or on lines that can not possess. Grunting, club, spade and puffs of canine devotion. Cocker resigned to castration becomes rottweiler during the mating season. Touched to see that too. Match what you had served as an episode of Eastenders and charming as the face of Cicchitto (which at the time of Lombroso would take twelve thousand years in prison to be served in the catacombs rotting), turns into the cross street with no way out. A tragic confrontation with broken mirrors. The treruote whirring full speed exceeds the momentum built car with the engine apart.
Among the funeral elegy and the randomness of a normal tennis estremizzante . And 'real handicap this time. My chickens now I understand from a glance even before a buck ill or too short a hook without being able to lean in the leg wound. And that look is not a penny of the wrestler decided to try a comeback impossible. It 's just a sad catwalk. To put it bluntly, there is no trace of demonic rabbit with the face of wily street urchin, who stood on the verge of succumbing to the rush of a poor painter screwed on Wimbledon's Centre Court. That was scripted real "alemerolao (Merla Alemao +) for another time, dressed as Uncle Toni Carmando. Makeup hull who was conscious of being able to beat a weak opponent, with a simple clever bit of experience. Then her eyes sought bloody quell'asfittica sacrificial prey like a Picasso. This time the boy from Manacor has the eyes of a shark cage. Helpless. Unable to do anything except to row under the blows of Zappa's herdsman, who all still hunched in its top ten agricultural trades.
Iberia continues without leave, but do not force anything. To fail to speak to the merits countryman, or best honor the "fair play award 2010". He yields to her body once again. The same machine that development has enabled him to reach unthinkable goals, now and then betrays him. Is a normal feature of things. Hooks, harpoons and runs like a madman. Two or three times a year, especially on hard courts, it ends up sfibrasi inexorably. E 'in the normal range of things for those who did exercise muscle hyper tennis the reason for his success. Must take into account. He lost in straight sets, and minimizes the usual happened in the post game statements, filling lavish praise David Ferrer. Useless and harmful to continue to cite such ailments as an excuse for every (rare) defeat. You fall into a dangerous spiral of senseless thing. Victims of the syndrome of many that are repeated disconsolately: "Safin, gentlemen ... ah if only I had gone to bed at 5.00 and not 7.45 am, today to win easy ...", or others who ringing all 'Now, against all evidence sensory "Gasquet eliminated yet, but if he had a brain instead of the pan with boiling beans, have already won two grand slam ... " to close with the most original " Give an arm, a physicist and a head to Seppi, and the non- will lose more than a .... " Nadal has built his triumphs on a great warrior cannibal mentality perfectly symbiotic with the explosiveness of a physical prodigy. When something gets stuck in the package, it becomes a human being. Subject to human failure. There are those who loses his head and who loses physical. Amen.
Now I must leave you. I have a film club on Iranian cinema, together with twelve of Pie Ursuline novices. We'll drink decaffeinated Guatemalan coffee and coca-cola light, discussing physiognomy and even of ascetic detachment from the pleasures of the flesh. Arcore.
Semifinals: Men
Murray-Ferrer. Yesterday night I predicted a victory for Murray to Nadal. Now that Nadal is out, the Scot is likely to lose against an opponent that has often suffered. For the sake of the show and a final at least interesting, it is hoped that Murray will win. 3-1, maybe.
Federer-Djokovic . Already said yesterday. In the normal things, the Swiss would win without much preamble. If the match turns into battle rusticana, it becomes 50-50.
Women
Li Na-Wozniacki . The Chinese so far is the one that most impressed. For character and perseverance in the relentless advances. Wozniacki could also lose by Schiavone and did not appear too bright yet haunting in its bucks. Na Li would win. If the world makes sense. But you know the meaning of this sentence rhetoric
Clijsters, Zvonareva . Obvious favorite Kim Clijsters. Head shots and a number, nor a set left on the street. Despite the reassuring little chubby harnesses the left thigh. My heart would say Vera, rooting for his umpteenth final. But I'd be satisfied by a sbarellante larmante and hysterical dell'idolessa Russian. I like it.
Nadal injured, loses. Both thundered, which eventually rained in the leaden sky of Australia. Too bad that night, and the sky is frighteningly brown wood like Dante trembling. Between screams croak of frogs and weasels. The long-awaited surprise comes at the eleventh hour. In the last match of the eight the quarterfinals of the two boards. Where less than the expected. Just in time to cover with ridicule and expose to public ridicule a poor fool with holes in his shoes and clothes lysis, who had guessed the results of the previous match. On that mentally ill that these repulsive pages, invoked the big surprise. And here it is served, the surprise. Almost mocking. Surreal in its cyclical nature.
Rafael Nadal yields to David Ferrer, leaving the tournament with an unsteady sadness. Give up, before an opponent already prepared and well disposed to the gallows, the flaws of a physical inhumane. Paradox, perhaps. It has now become accustomed, when you comment or read the events of the sample of Manacor, to consult medical treatises not be unprepared. At the risk of having to turn everything into something less interesting than an episode of "Medicine 33." And then imagine me as well, with the same look and wink wink lively Luciano Onder discourses of periodontal disease and duodenal ulcer and duodenal dilatation pigmentosa. Let's start
, entering with zeal into the mare magnum of Medicine article applies to tennis. The match begins and ends after less than three games, when the number one villain feels the tight hamstring the powerful of the left thigh. Immediate intervention of the attendants, lights, ambulance, sorcerers and shamans crazy. All around the precious wounded muscle the gladiator. Shake their heads. Rafa also lowers the big head. But still. The meeting will be inevitably transformed into slow death for the world number one. Be resigned and faces a boxer played the twelfth round. On the other side is not Tyson, but Francesco Damiani. Does not run well, it is too obvious even to those who had glasses to flirt. It is a succession of eyes full of sadness to his corner. None of the proverbial imposts frantic and grim looks from guerrilla hit by lightning jaundice. The slavers to his corner trying to stir, as jockeys who obstinately whipped a horse dies on the straight. Ferrer does his job, as usual. Nothing amazing or on lines that can not possess. Grunting, club, spade and puffs of canine devotion. Cocker resigned to castration becomes rottweiler during the mating season. Touched to see that too. Match what you had served as an episode of Eastenders and charming as the face of Cicchitto (which at the time of Lombroso would take twelve thousand years in prison to be served in the catacombs rotting), turns into the cross street with no way out. A tragic confrontation with broken mirrors. The treruote whirring full speed exceeds the momentum built car with the engine apart.
Among the funeral elegy and the randomness of a normal tennis estremizzante . And 'real handicap this time. My chickens now I understand from a glance even before a buck ill or too short a hook without being able to lean in the leg wound. And that look is not a penny of the wrestler decided to try a comeback impossible. It 's just a sad catwalk. To put it bluntly, there is no trace of demonic rabbit with the face of wily street urchin, who stood on the verge of succumbing to the rush of a poor painter screwed on Wimbledon's Centre Court. That was scripted real "alemerolao (Merla Alemao +) for another time, dressed as Uncle Toni Carmando. Makeup hull who was conscious of being able to beat a weak opponent, with a simple clever bit of experience. Then her eyes sought bloody quell'asfittica sacrificial prey like a Picasso. This time the boy from Manacor has the eyes of a shark cage. Helpless. Unable to do anything except to row under the blows of Zappa's herdsman, who all still hunched in its top ten agricultural trades.
Iberia continues without leave, but do not force anything. To fail to speak to the merits countryman, or best honor the "fair play award 2010". He yields to her body once again. The same machine that development has enabled him to reach unthinkable goals, now and then betrays him. Is a normal feature of things. Hooks, harpoons and runs like a madman. Two or three times a year, especially on hard courts, it ends up sfibrasi inexorably. E 'in the normal range of things for those who did exercise muscle hyper tennis the reason for his success. Must take into account. He lost in straight sets, and minimizes the usual happened in the post game statements, filling lavish praise David Ferrer. Useless and harmful to continue to cite such ailments as an excuse for every (rare) defeat. You fall into a dangerous spiral of senseless thing. Victims of the syndrome of many that are repeated disconsolately: "Safin, gentlemen ... ah if only I had gone to bed at 5.00 and not 7.45 am, today to win easy ...", or others who ringing all 'Now, against all evidence sensory "Gasquet eliminated yet, but if he had a brain instead of the pan with boiling beans, have already won two grand slam ... " to close with the most original " Give an arm, a physicist and a head to Seppi, and the non- will lose more than a .... " Nadal has built his triumphs on a great warrior cannibal mentality perfectly symbiotic with the explosiveness of a physical prodigy. When something gets stuck in the package, it becomes a human being. Subject to human failure. There are those who loses his head and who loses physical. Amen.
Now I must leave you. I have a film club on Iranian cinema, together with twelve of Pie Ursuline novices. We'll drink decaffeinated Guatemalan coffee and coca-cola light, discussing physiognomy and even of ascetic detachment from the pleasures of the flesh. Arcore.
Semifinals: Men
Murray-Ferrer. Yesterday night I predicted a victory for Murray to Nadal. Now that Nadal is out, the Scot is likely to lose against an opponent that has often suffered. For the sake of the show and a final at least interesting, it is hoped that Murray will win. 3-1, maybe.
Federer-Djokovic . Already said yesterday. In the normal things, the Swiss would win without much preamble. If the match turns into battle rusticana, it becomes 50-50.
Women
Li Na-Wozniacki . The Chinese so far is the one that most impressed. For character and perseverance in the relentless advances. Wozniacki could also lose by Schiavone and did not appear too bright yet haunting in its bucks. Na Li would win. If the world makes sense. But you know the meaning of this sentence rhetoric
Clijsters, Zvonareva . Obvious favorite Kim Clijsters. Head shots and a number, nor a set left on the street. Despite the reassuring little chubby harnesses the left thigh. My heart would say Vera, rooting for his umpteenth final. But I'd be satisfied by a sbarellante larmante and hysterical dell'idolessa Russian. I like it.
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