Among the glitz and tacky futuristic buildings, the new city of sport and petro-dollars, the final most anticipated and obvious, the absence of Nadal, has resulted in little more one hour of tennis in its terrifying ugliness. To the point where someone turns up immediately -Wozniacki Zvonareva , enjoying (if not tennis) of the courageous Russian loser. Vera from swollen eyes the color of a sky battle with the clouds breaking up the defensive wall of the sleeve from the Nordic a number that seems to exit out of the advertisement of the mill white version of that Scandinavian and wins in Doha.
Some other crazy, watching the atrocious deeds of articulated robot sparapalle Serbian sull'inerme Swiss in a day when even stick in the imagination, goes so far as to strive for a rapid return of the devil of Manacor. If the now tragic barbarism technical, you do not want to combine the lack of real rivalries (panacea of \u200b\u200ball evil sport that transcends the technical act, according to some), the Iberian remains the only way forward. Dionysian and the dying art of the former dominating tennis succumbs Swiss clearly the emerging face of Serbian Apollonian frantic-eyed partridge. Nothing to do for Roger Federer, shut up and almost choked in his own invincibility and shrine of memories, good against Novak Djokovic . Good, and nothing more. The Serb for the occasion sports a full black-eyed pirate, attached colored bandage to the knee. To camouflage the shiny armor as bacherozzo the night of the emirs and to frighten the opponent. This is not enough that scary face painting macabre horror. Nole continues in the wake of recent successes. Davis from the Australian Open. Start well focused, delivered with impeccable service without giving way to the opponent to enter the match. Chin chin and mouth open by foster-brother of "Igor" Marty Feldman which mimics the syncopated version of Munch's scream, he continues on his way. Reversal in the running, arms and legs from a side part, as a rigid jointed puppet loaded with Duracell.
Federer remains inside the bell of glass, mirror and remember it something poetically useless, while the other gasps his shots regularly. The damping action, the usual opening, Djokovic has to start the second set, the first occasion on which his service becomes more human. Just two old whipping suspended former monarch's head pops out of that casket alienated. Here he is, he thinks someone. The classic moment when the match turns. Too easy to understand even for a Tibetan goat disguised as a sports journalist worthy of a lombrosario. Djokovic always offers the occasion, and the sample record of the immortals can not take advantage. Nothing could be more misleading, because quell'abbrivio, once again, Federer threw it away. Peers from the window of opportunity, before closing his fingers in the door. In a clumsy, awkward, disarming. And 'the clear sign of a rivalry that has perhaps changed its inertia, moving from the Serbian side. That, as often happens all'elvetico, is turning into disease, Alzheimer without antidotes. Federer gives the feeling of frenetic slow suffocation, in spite of the oxymorons and who invented them. Here it is in fact return the service break with a game worthy of a Gasquet disguised as a normal day I learned. And with the negligence of a spiaggiante Bolelli loses five in a row to end the period 3-6. Never seen so ugly, impalpable, foul. An immodest seals smash performance by horror gallery of Switzerland, with a side of service jammed, some flickering and even ahead of trembling and easy to read even for Gimeno Traver. Definitely not the best and always late on the ball, physically and mentally. Problems that the winding tennis classical resigned Stakhovsky and acrobatic stabs a Gasquet just recovered a semblance of life, could not lay bare. Rejoice
Djokovic and has good reason. Has acquired the right belief, one that is halfway between the lack of humility of the early and the tragic reality that saw him inevitably succumb to the two stronger. Nothing to say, admirable consistency and constancy. But nothing miraculous or unreachable. A healthy Nadal, Federer and easily swept it away again. The Juan Martin Del Potro in 2009 in New York brutalized with a regular 6-2 and Nadal came of Federer in five sets battle. But with whether and with but does not go anywhere. Even the best Henin bags would make a mouthful of Wozniacki and Zvonareva. A Romina Oprandi in slippers beat Renata Voracova of momentum, Gasquet beating Gilles Simon of law would life to impress upon the stone of the twelve tables, rather than sensational surprise if all of the top one hundred run into a bad day or retire, I knew always wins, and so on. But with whether and with but does not go anywhere. A brief digression
deserves its Juan Martin Del Potro , more convincing in the U.S. touring and grabbed the last final in Delray Beach. The tournament is what it is, just think that on these shores has triumphed over the likes of Xavier Malisse and Ernests Gulbis, and even opponents are softer than those that will bite in 1000 Masters and Grand Slams. But that's something, compared to the dire predictions of a few months ago. And then
let's enjoy the ecstatic mood with dominant Djokovic has freed us from evil dictators of the sport. The submental worshipers horror aesthetic will be happy. Djokovic is without a doubt is the best in the first months of the season. The first objective. The spirit of hideous ecstasy then fills in keeping with his chest puffed up, the prominent chin and an expression of ferocity nell'alargire now relaxed the audience cheering the usual three-fingered salute. For the avoidance of doubt the good points: one two three. What will it mean? The Old-conspiracy began a bedlam of fanciful conjecture. The third victory of something? The Three Little Pigs? Will win a third Grand Slam at Wimbledon by beating Grannollers in the final? La Nina, the Pinta and the Santamaria? The three monkeys getting drunk? It 's a fan of Qui-Quo-Here? Maramaldeggia that beat the opponent with three fingers? The triad Giraudo, Moggi-shop? The wolf, the leopard and the lion? The fact that Serbia had taken three goals from Latvia (this at the suggestion of a sharp journalist rai)? And 'one of the veterans of the diaspora of the "third pole", resistant to the cattle market gears? All off-road. It 's a simple and naive greeting abused by para-fascist and ultranationalist Serbs to indicate anything other than God, country and emperor. Nothing so strange and reckless. Everyone salutes as he wishes, and the viewer into their own idea. In the limit may fear that a loosening in the future begin to greet with outstretched arm as in Germany the '30s. Wonder what that means in a sporting event (even national teams), a gesture that the militia inflicted to the body of their enemy (Muslim, Catholic, Croatian or Kosovar), sliced \u200b\u200bpinky and ring finger and leaving the other three fingers as a final farewell. Maybe, but I still believe that he meant "We were in three, three donkeys and three bandits on the road ... Girgenti. Clearly alluding to the challenge in three of him, Nadal and Federer.
Some other crazy, watching the atrocious deeds of articulated robot sparapalle Serbian sull'inerme Swiss in a day when even stick in the imagination, goes so far as to strive for a rapid return of the devil of Manacor. If the now tragic barbarism technical, you do not want to combine the lack of real rivalries (panacea of \u200b\u200ball evil sport that transcends the technical act, according to some), the Iberian remains the only way forward. Dionysian and the dying art of the former dominating tennis succumbs Swiss clearly the emerging face of Serbian Apollonian frantic-eyed partridge. Nothing to do for Roger Federer, shut up and almost choked in his own invincibility and shrine of memories, good against Novak Djokovic . Good, and nothing more. The Serb for the occasion sports a full black-eyed pirate, attached colored bandage to the knee. To camouflage the shiny armor as bacherozzo the night of the emirs and to frighten the opponent. This is not enough that scary face painting macabre horror. Nole continues in the wake of recent successes. Davis from the Australian Open. Start well focused, delivered with impeccable service without giving way to the opponent to enter the match. Chin chin and mouth open by foster-brother of "Igor" Marty Feldman which mimics the syncopated version of Munch's scream, he continues on his way. Reversal in the running, arms and legs from a side part, as a rigid jointed puppet loaded with Duracell.
Federer remains inside the bell of glass, mirror and remember it something poetically useless, while the other gasps his shots regularly. The damping action, the usual opening, Djokovic has to start the second set, the first occasion on which his service becomes more human. Just two old whipping suspended former monarch's head pops out of that casket alienated. Here he is, he thinks someone. The classic moment when the match turns. Too easy to understand even for a Tibetan goat disguised as a sports journalist worthy of a lombrosario. Djokovic always offers the occasion, and the sample record of the immortals can not take advantage. Nothing could be more misleading, because quell'abbrivio, once again, Federer threw it away. Peers from the window of opportunity, before closing his fingers in the door. In a clumsy, awkward, disarming. And 'the clear sign of a rivalry that has perhaps changed its inertia, moving from the Serbian side. That, as often happens all'elvetico, is turning into disease, Alzheimer without antidotes. Federer gives the feeling of frenetic slow suffocation, in spite of the oxymorons and who invented them. Here it is in fact return the service break with a game worthy of a Gasquet disguised as a normal day I learned. And with the negligence of a spiaggiante Bolelli loses five in a row to end the period 3-6. Never seen so ugly, impalpable, foul. An immodest seals smash performance by horror gallery of Switzerland, with a side of service jammed, some flickering and even ahead of trembling and easy to read even for Gimeno Traver. Definitely not the best and always late on the ball, physically and mentally. Problems that the winding tennis classical resigned Stakhovsky and acrobatic stabs a Gasquet just recovered a semblance of life, could not lay bare. Rejoice
Djokovic and has good reason. Has acquired the right belief, one that is halfway between the lack of humility of the early and the tragic reality that saw him inevitably succumb to the two stronger. Nothing to say, admirable consistency and constancy. But nothing miraculous or unreachable. A healthy Nadal, Federer and easily swept it away again. The Juan Martin Del Potro in 2009 in New York brutalized with a regular 6-2 and Nadal came of Federer in five sets battle. But with whether and with but does not go anywhere. Even the best Henin bags would make a mouthful of Wozniacki and Zvonareva. A Romina Oprandi in slippers beat Renata Voracova of momentum, Gasquet beating Gilles Simon of law would life to impress upon the stone of the twelve tables, rather than sensational surprise if all of the top one hundred run into a bad day or retire, I knew always wins, and so on. But with whether and with but does not go anywhere. A brief digression
deserves its Juan Martin Del Potro , more convincing in the U.S. touring and grabbed the last final in Delray Beach. The tournament is what it is, just think that on these shores has triumphed over the likes of Xavier Malisse and Ernests Gulbis, and even opponents are softer than those that will bite in 1000 Masters and Grand Slams. But that's something, compared to the dire predictions of a few months ago. And then
let's enjoy the ecstatic mood with dominant Djokovic has freed us from evil dictators of the sport. The submental worshipers horror aesthetic will be happy. Djokovic is without a doubt is the best in the first months of the season. The first objective. The spirit of hideous ecstasy then fills in keeping with his chest puffed up, the prominent chin and an expression of ferocity nell'alargire now relaxed the audience cheering the usual three-fingered salute. For the avoidance of doubt the good points: one two three. What will it mean? The Old-conspiracy began a bedlam of fanciful conjecture. The third victory of something? The Three Little Pigs? Will win a third Grand Slam at Wimbledon by beating Grannollers in the final? La Nina, the Pinta and the Santamaria? The three monkeys getting drunk? It 's a fan of Qui-Quo-Here? Maramaldeggia that beat the opponent with three fingers? The triad Giraudo, Moggi-shop? The wolf, the leopard and the lion? The fact that Serbia had taken three goals from Latvia (this at the suggestion of a sharp journalist rai)? And 'one of the veterans of the diaspora of the "third pole", resistant to the cattle market gears? All off-road. It 's a simple and naive greeting abused by para-fascist and ultranationalist Serbs to indicate anything other than God, country and emperor. Nothing so strange and reckless. Everyone salutes as he wishes, and the viewer into their own idea. In the limit may fear that a loosening in the future begin to greet with outstretched arm as in Germany the '30s. Wonder what that means in a sporting event (even national teams), a gesture that the militia inflicted to the body of their enemy (Muslim, Catholic, Croatian or Kosovar), sliced \u200b\u200bpinky and ring finger and leaving the other three fingers as a final farewell. Maybe, but I still believe that he meant "We were in three, three donkeys and three bandits on the road ... Girgenti. Clearly alluding to the challenge in three of him, Nadal and Federer.
0 comments:
Post a Comment