Bleacher Report - Articles by Robert Orzechowski

Andre Agassi's Big Misunderstanding (humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 14:27:30 -0500

Andre Agassi finally acknowledged that there has been a monstrous error in his new book "Open".

"I meant to say that I had taken Crystal Pez and not Crystal Meth. I had a serious addiction to the crystal Pez dispensers back in 1997. It was so bad that I offered to buy out the production company to discontinue the product", he said.

Andre said that the Pez head kept looking at him and providing him with continuous sweet candy.

"I would push back his head and yet another piece of candy would appear. It was relentless and never-ending."

Agassi at first denied reports that he was using Crystal Pez to his family and the press. His coach at the time, knew better.

"I would walk in and see him with a family of Pez dispensers and he would try to cover it up.", said former coach Brad Gilbert.

"He tried to make it seem like he was giving these toys to friend's kid but all the candy in each one had been consumed. That is when I knew that he needed help."

Agassi checked in to the Betty Ford Candy Clinic for severe diagnosis of sucrose addiction. Four and a half months later, he was clean.

"I just want to say that maybe my experience can be a lesson to others. Just say no to Pez dispensers. Don't feel sorry for Pez just because he has only a head and no hands or legs. Just move on."

The Pez Company has declined interviews but has stated that its Crystal Pez lines are now oddly out of stock.

Sonia's Letter (Fantasy)

Robert Orzechowski — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 20:36:40 -0500

Many people have written about Roger Federer's Australian 2009 defeat to Rafael Nadal and his subsequent tears. I thought it would be a neat idea to write a fantasy piece to explain those tears through a story that never happened but...could have:

As his limo drove on through the Australian summer rain, he got lost in his thoughts gazing at the down-pour. Upcoming nuptials, the pregnancy of his wife, and the Australian grand slam looming all swirled around in his head.

He had promised this visit somewhere in the back of his mind. Whether it was through his agent or some promotional director, he was to visit this particular patient in a hospital in Melbourne.

Roger toyed with the idea to cancel the day before so that he get in more practice but there was a tiny voice somewhere that said he should honor this commitment.

This engagement should last 30 minutes, he thought and then he proceed to the tennis courts.

He was quietly ushered in the back way and was surprised that he was taken to a quieter wing in the hospital known as the palliative care section. He was used to visiting the children's ward.

The serene silence of the ward was a little unnerving at first but he welcomed it as opposed to the consistent rush of faces so desperate to seek him out and even touch him.

In the middle of the pristine shiny-floored hallway, he was ushered into a small room. There was a couchful of family keeping their young 16-year-old member company.

She had blond hair and her youthful appearance had somewhat been drained from her fight with the brain tumor that they had discovered. Her months of chemo had not completely got rid of it and its location meant that it could not be operated on.

Roger respectfully greeted the family. Their utmost shock and disbelief temporarily erased the grief-stricken and worrisome lines on their faces.

He was informed that this was Sonia and that she consistently talked about Roger's tennis and personality non-stop even during the darkest stages of chemotherapy.

Roger: Hi Sonia. My name is Roger Federer.

Sonia: Roger is that really you. I must be dreaming. I cannot believe you are here.

Roger: It is really me. They tell me you are quite the fighter.

Sonia: Well, I have watched you for so many years. You are my favorite tennis player of all time. You inspired me to fight and to win.

Roger: Thanks, I am really honored.

Sonia: No. the honor is mine. The way you play tennis is something special. Even if I never met you, I would still fight to live so that I could watch you play. (Over to the rest of the family) Could you please give me a few minutes with Roger?

The family files out of the room to wait outside.

Roger: I am really sorry that you have been going through this.

Sonia: Don't be sorry Roger. I sometimes dream of being a great tennis player. I would have great dreams of how I would hoist the cup and wave to the crowd like you do.

Roger: Sometimes, I think it is all a dream myself. How about I live that dream for you.

Sonia: What do you mean?

Roger: Well at the Australian Open, I am going to try my best to win the tournament. I really hope to win it but what if I give you a sign only meant to be for you. It would then be your dream as well and you could share in it.

Sonia: Wow...that is beautiful. I and millions of others already share in your victories.

Roger: Yes, but this would be just solely for you.

Sonia: What would the sign be?

Roger: I don't know...it might be a gesture or maybe something in a speech if I win or make the finals.

Sonia: Roger.

Roger: Yes?

Sonia: I don't know if I could hold on that long. I mean, I want to live so much but I get tired all of the time.

Roger: You have done so amazing so far. Just do your best and I will do mine.

Sonia: I will but I just don't know if it will be enough. Thank you, Roger.

Roger: You don't need to thank me. I wish I could have done more.

Sonia: You have. You have made me so happy. I can face whatever lies ahead.

The nurse comes in and informs Roger that Sonia needs her rest.

Roger: Before I go, Sonia, I want you to know that as much as you are a fan of mine, I am a big fan of yours. I will play my heart out for you.

Sonia: Roger, before you go, can I have...a....a...kiss?

The room lighting was subdued as Roger leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Sonia's forehead. As if on cue, her eyes closed and she went into a deep sleep.

A few weeks later, Roger was informed that Sonia had passed away the day before. He tried to keep it out of his mind and concentrate for the upcoming match with Nadal but this was difficult to do.

The day of the final came and before he left his hotel to go prepare for the big match, his agent came in with an envelope. "This came in for you, Roger," was all he said.

Roger opened the sealed envelope and was surprised to find out that it had been written by Sonia:

Dear Roger,

I wanted to thank you once again for visiting me. There are so many sick and ill people out there who never get the real treat of having a visit from someone like you. I am so weak now and my mom is writing this out for me.

You told me to do my best and I have. I just want you to do your best and if it is allowed, somewhere I might look and find your sign.

Sincerely with love

Your biggest fan

Sonia

Roger was resolved win this match at all costs for Sonia. After four and a half hours of scratching, clawing and fighting, Roger lost to Rafael Nadal. His constant strong mental efforts to keep that written letter out of his mind now came back and flooded his mind.

Awash with tears, Roger seemed to be looking up in the distance as if to transmit his message to Sonia. The loss had hurt and he had felt that he had let her down. As his tears came out, he thought he had heard a voice. "Just do your best," was all it had said.

Roger knew that he had more of his best inside him and that there would be more days to fight on. The photos had all caught his teary-eyed face and as those tears were coming down, he looked up and mouthed inaudibly his thoughts.

"Thank you, Sonia."

Tennis Writing According To Aaron K. (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 08:40:55 -0500

Roger Federer will play Julien Benneteau today at the Paris Masters. Will Roger win the coin toss? Place your bets today at www.bettingodds.com

Rafael Nadal wore his famous pirate-like clothing a few years back? Will he return to those magical days? Check out the odds and cash in at www.bettingodds.com

Will Novak Djokovic change rackets yet again for a more lucrative deal. Lay your money down at www.bettingodds.com

Does Juan Martin Del Potro prefer his toilet paper to go under the roll or over the roll? Cash in at www.bettingodds.com

Andy Murray has had a wrist injury and today he plays James Blake. Will Andy lose his temper without further injuring himself. Place this hottest bet at www.bettingodds.com

Will Aaron Kumar be able to hold down the number one tennis rankings, contribute short pointless articles, plug his website and still collect commissions? Place your bets here at www.bettingodds.com

Will this article generate 10,000 reads and win Article Of the Day, and collect a Pulitzer prize? Take your hard earned cash, kiss it good-bye and place your long shot at www.bettingodds.com

Will Bleacher Report finally realize that anything with betting should be cleared from the site solely intended for sports and sports writing? Throw your money away but throw it here at www.bettingodds.com

An Interview With Roger Federer, but First...(Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 22:49:09 -0500

Radio Interviewer: Welcome ladies and gentleman to Bleacher Report Radio. I am Herb Avor and we have with us live in studio—the great Roger Federer. Welcome Roger!

Roger Federer: Thank you Herb, it is great to be here.

Radio Interviewer: We want to ask Roger some great tennis questions and probe his mind on several issues on the sport but first a word from one of our sponsors—Barely Sports.

Lady Voice: Are you feeling lonely tonight? In need of HOT tennis action? Why not call Barely Sports where barely legals are wearing barely anything at all. Call now and let the Tennis lingerie fall where it may—dial now 1-900-LOVE-LOVE.

Second commercial:

Teen Voice: I had to stay in because I was grounded by my parents for excessive partying. That's OK because there is a party right here on my phone. If you are home alone right now watching tennis, come on and join the fun.

Lie about your age, weight, hairline, and marital status and get in on the action. Call 1-999-TENNIS-SHOTS. Long distance charges may apply.

Radio Interviewer: All right, we are back with Roger Federer. Roger, how are you feeling these days?

Roger Federer: Well, I would feel better if I did not have to hear those commercials, you know?

Radio Interviewer: Hey Rog, no problem at all. During the next break, just take those headphones that you are wearing off and presto! We got to pay the bills around here, Rog. Now let's take a call or two. Hi caller, you are on the air.

Caller One: Oh yeah hi...umm...I was wondering how I could get a hold of that sweet babe that was talking about tennis shots. Dude, she was hot.

Roger Federer: Yeah, well we are not here to talk about "Babes." I am here to talk about tennis. I am married and have twin girls and of course being Roger Federer, I like to talk about tennis, you know?

Caller One: Dude, you are THE Roger Federer?

Roger Federer: Yeah, that's me!

Caller One: Wow, well there is something I want to ask you.

Radio Interviewer: Go ahead caller one.

Caller One: I was just wondering...you know that woman that designs your clothing for you know, like the US Open?

Roger Federer: That would be Anna Wintour

Caller One: That cougar is hot...do you think you could get me her number...I heard all about these older chicks. They are wild for some young heat...b*tchin, man!

Roger Federer: OK, I think this was a big mistake.

Radio Interviewer: Hold on there, Roger! We have to take a short break and we will be right back after this.

Silky Lady Voice: What happens when you put teens and tennis together? You get "Teenis." We all know that Teenis rhymes with...Venus of course! Oh, you naughty guys you thinking of that other word.

Call now and listen to me saying hot tennis phrases like SMASH IT!! SMASH IT!! BREAK ME!! COME ON! ACE, DOWN THE MIDDLE! CALL ME NOW at 1-910-TAMMY-TEENIS. $25/minute.

Radio Interviewer: We are back and Roger has left the building folks, but don't worry we got plenty of hot commercials to go around and if you don't get enough, visit our website and check out our sponsors who have nothing to do with sports nor do they have any interest in it.

Remember, the great thing about tennis is that every nine games or so, you get a new set of balls! Until next time, so long!

The Newest Testament: The Greatest Tennis Birth Story Ever Told (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 22:25:02 -0400

In the beginning there was Goat. Goat made the world and saw it was good. He even made some animals in the pasture in his own image. Goat worked hard on creating different things on Earth. His last creation took place just before the weekend (Saturday for the Jews and Sunday for everybody else). That last creation was mankind.

On Friday, March 12, 5025 BC at 4 p.m., Goat let out a huge sigh. "Holy sh**, am I bushed!" And so, He rested and took the weekend off.

He soon got really bored with humanity and so to make things interesting, He decided to mess around with their minds.

"Let me favor one group of people over the other and see what happens." He said.

He soon got tired of that and decided to punish his favored group.

Several thousands of years went by when Goat had an idea. "I know, I will create a flood in which I will attempt to kill every living thing on the planet."

"That might be boring so I am going to put all my cards on this one guy. I will ask him to build a boat. Anything that goes on that boat will survive. Everything else is f***ed. Wait, hee hee. He is going to have to get two of every living thing on that boat. Priceless!"

Noah looking up, could hardly believe his ears. Before any thoughts came to his mind, Goat spoke down in a thunderous voice. "If you want to think of those thoughts, I will smote thee and get someone else to build the bloody boat."

Noah built the biggest boat. It was so huge, he named it "Titanic." It was a huge zoo of animals and a vast laboratory of every insect and plant living on the planet. Some species did not survive because Noah accidentally collected two males hence the birth of homosexuality.

Goat flooded the earth and in doing so killed out one species that had been mankind's worst enemy—the Unicorn. The unicorn had literally been a pain in the ass, impaling men and women although the women seemed to not mind as much. Noah who was previously a Unicorn's b*tch, conveniently left them off the list.

Goat grew tired of watching the boat float and decided to run it right into an iceberg. Luckily, the iceberg was connected to a whole bunch of others, allowing the inhabitants on the boat to get out and survive.

Goat eventually allowed the water to recede and it seemed the large icebergs grew and became huge mountains. Noah and a team went up there looking for food but because Goat in his wisdom had killed everything, they became cold and hungry up there.

They came back screaming "Help! help!" The people by the boat thought they said, "Alp Alp." ...and so the mountain became known as the Alps.

In this small area of land, there came a very brave man who challenged Goat.

His name was Albert Schweitzer. He openly declared his non-belief in Goat. Goat smote him down but the people took great pity and named their land after him—Schweitzerland. It was shortened later to Switzerland.

Another thousand years came and went and Goat got tired of watching from above. He wanted in on the action down below. People were developing sports, entertaining, working and anything else that came with living a human life.

Goat decided to become a human. But how? Who would run the show while he was gone? Easy, He would simply be in two places at the same time. He would pick an unsuspecting couple, inseminate the wife and become the offspring.

Robert Federer and his South African exchange student girlfriend had just started dating. Lynette was a stunning beauty who was attracted to Robert's walrus moustache, his good looks and his penchant for Swiss fondue dinners.

Their relationship became passionate and let's just say that this was one Swiss who did not have clockwork-like timing. Goat brought on a rainstorm in the fields where they lay, prompting Robert to do a coitus interruptus.

Goat planted his own seed in the raindrops that fell onto Lynette who screamed to Robert to get off his arse and cover her with a towel.

A few months later, Lynette learned she was with child. Robert married her in a small quiet ceremony and they moved to the spicy town of Basel.

It was tourist season and all the hotel rooms were booked for months. Luckily, Robert had been a dynamite TNT technician. He found a huge mountain and blasted a cave out of it, careful not to cause an avalanche.

They brought their animals into the cave and Robert built a huge fire. Goat busy watching all of this, decided to send some of his angel messengers to the skiers on the mountain to tell them of the miraculous birth about to happen.

The skiers were freaked out and a few wiped out on the mountain. Many were tourists and did not know the mountain well and ended up getting lost. Others looked to the stars in the sky and followed the Big Dipper into Italy.

Two or three managed to make it to the cave and bent down on their skis to pay homage to the new Federer who had just been born about fifteen minutes earlier.

After five minutes of loving adoration, they got up and left for the chalet worrying that they may have missed the early-bird supper.

Not happy with just the little fanfare that this birth had received, Goat arranged to have three wise men—Borg, Lendl, and McEnroe wonder aimlessly to pay homage. They finally entered the cave seeking refuge from the turbulent storm outside.

Borg, who many had compared to the Swedish god Thor, was the first to speak up. "We have come bearing gifts. We bring gold (tennis balls), Wilson (tennis rackets), and Nike (shoes) as a token of our worship of the anointed one."

Lendl stepped forward, silently stared and bowed. He then stepped back. McEnroe stepped forward, looked at the baby and scoffed "You can't be serious!"

Just then a tennis ball whipped out from the baby's direction, hitting McEnroe between the eyes. McEnroe blinked uncontrollably and wobbled his head before collapsing.

As McEnroe slowly stirred, all three of the wise men looked at Lynette who was starting to glow with love for her son. They waited in anticipation to her reaction to their gifts.

Finally she spoke.

"What useless f***ing *&^% is this? Open your eyes, it is a BABY. Could you not have brought something to help us out here...oh I don't know...like DIAPERS....how about ...oh, BABY OIL or CREAM. What the F*** were you thinking bringing him tennis gear!"

Lendl broke his silence. "I am sorry milady but you should not be taking these gifts in the literal sense. It is very symbolic."

Lynette cut him off. Take your goddamn tennis balls, rackets and shoes which by the way would never FIT HIM! Take them and your God-damn symbolism and get out. GET OUT!! GET OUT!!

Robert Federer ushered them out and frowned while issuing a brief apologetic statement. "I am so sorry but you really came in at the wrong time of the month."

As they faced the brutal whipping wind and snow, McEnroe turned to Borg and said, "I am going to whip your a** in Wimbledon for this."

Spain to Issue Roger Federer Stamp (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 22:37:16 -0400

The Spanish government has officially announced that it will come out with a Roger Federer Stamp based on the following pictures that were chose by none other than his great rival Rafael Nadal. It was quite curious that some unusual photos were nominated for the selection of this prestigious event. Nadal has also put captions in and has revealed some of his favorites.

Begin Slideshow

The Gallery Of Fame (Fantasy)

Robert Orzechowski — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 15:20:14 -0400

The Tennis Museum had been built in New York City in 2015. Through the years, its constant renovations had seen a tentacle-like expanse that incorporated every corner of Tennis history.

There were large rooms for every era and each was accompanied by several walled monitors of video footage designed to transport its visitors to those respective eras.

Among those many rooms was a long dimly lit hall which was grounded with a solid grey marble floor. Aptly entitled "The Gallery Of Fame," the incredible length of the hall meant that the wide immaculate marble narrowed almost to nothing as far as the eye could see.

On either side of the walls were larger than life portraits of the various legends that played the game. Each portrait was infused with powerful lighting that breathed the essence into each of its stilled subjects.

It was an ordinary day in October 2044. The Gallery had been closed for a few hours. Each portrait nestled in darkness with just a faint hum of the emergency lights. The eerie quiet was interrupted by the creaks of the entrance door.

Two janitorial figures came through. Skip Blake, 65, was a long-time caretaker of this room. His assistant was Joe Watson, a young man, fresh out of high school.

The two slowly wheeled in their cart of cleaning supplies and Skip flicked on a switch which brought the room to a life of living color.

Skip let out a sigh as if met by a long lost friend. Joe was perplexed. He was just curious about the work that had to be done.

Skip must have noticed as the spell had been momentarily broken. His being brought back to reality lead him to give the instructions to his new apprentice.

"Floors need to be swept and mopped. Floor waxing is once every Sunday and the portraits need a light dusting," he said.

Almost as soon as he had finished. Joe had the broom out and was sweeping at light speed while applying to each portrait as he went. Skip watched in silence, his arms folded.

Though the hallway was long, Skip was amazed at the speed in which Joe returned. He grabbed his mop and was about to take off when Skip grabbed his arm.

Skip: No!

Joe: No? What do you mean?

Skip: Listen.

Joe (Perplexed): But....I don't hear anything.

Skip: Exactly. You have to embrace that as you work otherwise you won't hear them.

Joe: Hear whom?

Skip: Them. (Pointing to the portraits) Give me the mop and walk with me.

They walked slowly as Skip eased the mop on the floor. The first portrait they came to was Andy Murray.

Skip: Andy does not like it when you scurry by him. You need to comfort him because he never feels comfortable in his own skin. Be respectful of him or he will curse you and that stays with you a long time. I know.

Skip: Next we have Pete Sampras. Pete is a fierce competitor but a real warm gentleman. You need to give him a wink to let him know that everything is all right and he is in good hands under care.

Joe: Are you serious? These are portraits.

Skip: They could become more if you allow them to. Over here we have Andre Agassi blowing kisses to the crowd. Blow him a kiss and you will feel his charm.

Joe: This is crazy.

Skip: Maybe but there is much method to this madness. Now over here, the great Rafael Nadal doing a fist pumping action. A simple "Vamos" keeps him from furrowing his eyebrows.

Skip: Ahh..Andy Roddick complete with puffed cheeks as he prepares to serve. If you have a smart-ass comment, Andy would love to hear it and sometimes he will even reply.

Joe: Wait a minute. Back up you missed a portrait. This one is of....James Blake.

Skip: I skipped him because it is not time. (He stares for a bit, a tear or two threatening to fall) . However, for you, you should chat him up for a bit. I think he would like that very much.

Joe: You know he looks like.....

Skip: Moving on, we have John McEnroe. Don't let him fool you. He is a grouch on the outside but inside he is a softy. We had to move his neighbour down one because they could not get along.

Joe: Who was that?

Skip: You'll see. His new neighbour is none other than Bjorn Borg. Borg is quiet but he always comes out to watch you if you are good at what you do. Our next portrait is Ivan Lendl.

Joe: So this guy and John...

Skip: Yes they had an unfriendly rivalry so a little distance is good. Over here we have Lleyton Hewitt. Once in a while if you hear "Come On" with an Aussie accent, Lleyton is your man.

Joe: G'dai Mate..

Skip: No fake Aussie accents..he really does not take kindly to that. Next up, Roger Federer. I usually take my bic lighter and light it up for Roger but I never bring it anywhere near his portrait.

Joe: Why do you do that?

Skip: It is a sixties and seventies tradition that has carried on...obviously not to your generation. This is a portrait of Novak Djokovic. Novak is special. He will mimic you when you are not looking so try not to do anything silly.

Joe: Okay.

Skip: Well we have reached the end. Remember what I have told you and they will treat you well and maybe let you in on a few of their secrets.

Joe: Okay

As Joe is about to leave, he hears a voice. "You cannot be serious!" Joe turns around and finds the hall as empty as he left it.

Joe: Did you hear that?

Skip: Hear what?

Joe shakes his head and then leaves. Skip watches him closely as he goes.

Skip: You will be just fine my friend.

He turns to the empty hall of portraits.

Skip: My friends, my time with you has come to an end. You were in good hands under my care and you will continue to be in good hands well into the future. Rest well for you know I will be among you.

As Skip closed the door, he heard a strong "Vamos!" and chuckled quietly to himself. He went on to live the rest of natural life in peace knowing that "The Gallery Of Fame" would continue to live on.

Chris Crockers Speaks Up: "Leave Roger Alone"!!!!! (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 14:24:17 -0400

Chris Crocker, best known for his crying rant of "Leave Britney Alone", has now come out in defense of Roger Federer. Here is a transcript of his latest outpouring.

Chris Crocker:

All you people have NOTHING better to do than to attack Roger's winning record in tennis. He is THE BEST! The GOAT!! OK?? (sobs) Nobody comes close to him so just LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!

HE IS A MAN AND A DAMN FINE ONE AND I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING TO SLEEP WITH HIM SO JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE.

HE HAS WON EVERYTHING THERE IS TO WIN EXCEPT AN OLYMPICS GOLD SINGLES MEDAL BUT YOU STILL HAVE TO HOUND HIM FOR IT. JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!!

DOES HE HAVE TO BLEED ALL HIS BLOOD FOR YOU TO BE HAPPY? OKAY SO MAYBE HE DOES NOT HAVE A WINNING RECORD AGAINST RAPHAEL NADAL!! (WAILS) D O Y O U!!!

NO! YOU JUST WANT TO SIT ON YOUR LAZY A** AND EAT CHIPS COMPLAINING BECAUSE ROGER DOESN'T MEET YOUR EXPECTATIONS. LEAVE HIM ALONE!

LEAVE ROGER ALONE! HE HAS A WIFE AND TWO GIRLS. LEAVE MIRKA ALONE AND WHILE YOU ARE AT IT, LEAVE THOSE GIRLS ALONE. STOP MAKING BETS THAT THEY ARE GOING TO WIN TOURNAMENTS.

THEY ARE BABIES!!! (UNCONTROLLABLE SOBS) THEY ARE BABIES!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!

LEAVE ROGER'S DAD ALONE. SO WHAT THAT HE HAS THIS RF CAP THAT HE ALWAYS WEARS. HE IS PROUD OF HIS SON. WHO CARES IF HE NEVER SITS WITH HIS WIFE BECAUSE HE CAN'T STAND HER. JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE. LEAVE ROGER'S FATHER ALONE!!

LEAVE ROGER'S MOTHER ALONE. WE DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF AN IMPOSSIBLE JERK HIS FATHER IS SO JUST LEAVE HER ALONE. WHO CARES OF SHE SITS NEXT TO A GUY HALF HER AGE JUST LEAVE HER ALONE!

LEAVE THE PEOPLE IN ROGER'S BOX ALONE. WE DON'T KNOW WHO THEY ARE BUT YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO PAN THE CAMERA OVER THERE. THEY ARE THERE FOR ROGER SO JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE.

LEAVE ROGER'S FANS ALONE. THEY LOVE ROGER AND SO WHAT IF SOME OF THEM WANT TO PI** OVER NADAL. JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE! THEY KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING ....SHOWING THEIR LOVE FOR ROGER.

JUST LEAVE THEM ALONE!

God, I have been crying for over thirty minutes now and I am all out of tears. I hope there is no personal tragedy around the corner for me because boy, am I spent.

This Chris Crocker signing out and reminding you to LEAVE ROGER FEDERER ALONE!!!

Rafa's Tennis Writers Power Rankings

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 18:49:29 -0400

Hola Todos,

I sick of everywan always talk aboud di posision of tennis players. I watch di blicher repor and now I gonna rank di top 10 player:

Numero Unos: Aaron Kumar

Dis guy always gotta put a bet on someting. Jou wanna write or jou wanna place bet. Jou wanna place bet den click da link and lif da blicher report alone. Jou write wit no strong...put a spin like Rafa putta di topspin on da shots. Vamos!

Numero Dos: Nima Naderi

I see jou in da crowd lots of time in di tournamento. Di only problemo I hef wid jou is dat jou too busy wit da lapatop wen jou should be watching di match. Jou write good but everywan wan to know who pay jour salary if jou write on da blicher for no pay. Jou godda eat, jou know!

Numero Tres: Rob York

I like dis hombre coz he da new buss in town. He no justa write about di Roger. I say to him—tankyouverymach!

Numero Quatros: Clarabella Beavis

Me, I like dis chica. She try to a push her daughters my away but I got a chica already...muchas gracias senora! I know jou like di Roger but is okay...jou daughters know bedder.

Numero Cincos: JA Allen

Why jou no at a number two lika Rafa? Jou dere long time and jou write nice. Rafa want jou to write nice poem for heem. Roger di bes si but he is not di only one ok? Write for Rafa si? Tankyuverymach!

Numero Sei: Rajat Jain

Jou know me well and gracias for the articles about Rafa. Jou are kind to dose who write well...Rafa like dat....jou tell people dey write like sh**. Rafa like dat too. Tankyuverymuch. Wan day jou going to be namber wan! VAMOS!

Numero Sete: Long John Silver

Where are jou Long Juan! Why jou lif? I gonna need jou wit all dese Federer fans writing...come back and try jour bes....even if it is not great....look at Hewitt...if he can do it, jou can....

Numero Ocho: Anti Matter

I no understand jou at all. Jou speak di Englis? I read di words on jour page but no entiendo! Por favor, please take di simple englis class....

Numero Nueve: Robert Orzechowski

Jou are lucky to be in top ten. Muy comico! Jou make fan of everywan especially me. Too bad nobody read jou....bueno for me...bad for jou.

Numero Diez: Tyler Lambert

Que pasa? Jou no write di tennis yet jou in ti top ten? Hola! I no feel dis bad since French Open. Jou know who I am...because I no know about jou.

Terminator Six: The End of Repetition

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 08:48:33 -0400

To avoid legal ramifications, the following story is pure fiction and the names of the characters have been changed to protect the living.

It was a hazy Seattle rainy afternoon as community leader Bob Yorkie logged on to his computer. He sipped his morning coffee as he wondered what possible past tennis events he could write about.

As he rummaged through various tennis memories in his head, a swirling blue light formed into a whirling mini-tornado sending all of his desk items scattering through the turbulent air.

A tall muscular image appeared out of the tornado and suddenly the chaotic noise and movement stopped.

Yorkie had time to only mutter "Holy F-"

Out from the light stepped the Arnold Swarzeneggar look-a-like. He spoke out, cutting the tension in the air.

Terminator: Onder orticle 5-3 sectiawn foer, you have been slated for termination.

Bob Yorkie: Woa there pal. What is article 5-3 section 4?

Terminator: I have been sent by da Bleacha Rapot from da future. Article 5-3 section 4 states dat endless and meaningless writing of past subjects wit no perpose and no end result will result in immediate termination.

Bob Yorkie: But I do have purpose. My works are designed to promote thinking and analysis of the great moments of our game.

Terminator: Your works have cluttered ap our systems of da future and I was sent to eliminate da sorce. Hasta la vista Bob Yorkie!

Terminator raises shotgun and blows Bob Yorkie away.

Terminator: Next stop Australia. Must terminate preceding community leader Golden Long John.

Terminator vanishes and reappears in an Australian pub. He identifies and approaches Golden Long John.

Golden Long John: Hey mate...ow about a golden pint from the great Golden Long John?

Terminator: Drink this.

Terminator draws shotgun and blows away Golden Long John sending him to the other side of the pub killing him instantly.

Terminator: Next stop India to visit Eron Kumara.

Terminator vanishes and reappears at an Internet cafe in Bombay. All the Indians on computers are stunned as this giant machine surveys the area looking for Eron Kumara. He throws off the nearest person from his computer and punches in codes to locate his target.

Terminator: Target is at secondary location providing cheap outsourcing to America. Will be dealt with by the Outsource Terminator next week.

Suddenly, the Terminator is overloaded with too large a download of target writers to terminate. He starts to crack and dissipate into running liquid which separates and flees like scattering mice.

Coming Soon: Terminator Seven: Operation Annihilation of Rankings

Roger Federer Runner Up to President Obama in Nobel Peace Prize (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:28:22 -0400

The Nobel Peace Prize committee spokesperson Sven Svengali revealed today that Roger Federer was the runner-up for the Nobel Peace prize that was awarded to US President Barak Obama.

"We felt that Roger was a strong candidate in the running. Had he won the US Open and worked a little more on his backhand, not smashed his racket, avoided cursing the chair ump, he very well may have edged out Obama for the grand prize." said Svengali.

When asked what specifically about Roger Federer that had him as a prize finalist, Svengali replied, "He is a great sportsman who plays fair. He attracts attention worldwide and currently is one-upping Tiger Woods who did not make the cut for this years' peace award."

"Also the fact that he has not punched anyone out before, during or after a tennis match is an important positive. Aside from President Obama, Roger Federer has a lot of support worldwide and if he openly asks Israel and Palestine to work it out, they will.", Svengali added.

Joining Federer and Obama on the list of nominees were Bill Cosby, Bill Gates, Elton John, Queen Elizabeth, Don King, Yoda, Enya, Yeti, Yani, and Elvis Presley.

When asked why Elvis was on the 2009 Nobel Peace prize list, Svengali pointed out that although Elvis died over thirty years ago, he is still relevant to world peace.

"Nothing contributes more to world peace than being dead and of course Elvis the king is definitely doing his part," he said.

Before wrapping things up, Svengali confirmed that virtual personalities that can placate the masses into forgetting their warlike ways will be considered.

"We are distributing the videogame Mario throughout the Middle East and Aghanistan and should the results be positive, the little moustached man Mario will be a candidate to the 2010 Nobel Peace Prize."

Tennis' First Tournament: The Eden Masters

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 18:26:35 -0400

As per Rob York's instructions I dug into the oldest archives. I went rummaging into the Arc Of the Covenant and came up with the first game stats of tennis. It took place in the year 750,000 BC (7500 BC if you are a creationist).

The match took place with two of the missing links, OOGGA and BOOGA (Adam and Eve for all the creationists).

The first tennis match on record was a mixed singles match which, ironically, never survived to this day.

OOGA (Adam) beat BOOGA (Eve) in three straight sets whereupon BOOGA lacerated OOGA's skull by whipping her racket at his head. Since no chair ump was available (no one up to this point saw a need for it), the match was deemed an exhibition.

The serpent, who was a spectator at the time rushed to OOGA's side and wrapped himself around OOGA's head to keep him from bleeding to death.

It would be another two seasons before OOGA and BOOGA played each other. This time BOOGA came out on top. OOGA was never the same player after taking that racket to the head.

OOGA's unforced errors skyrocketed, plus BOOGA's insistance on a second, third, and fourth serves meant that OOGA had no chance at all.

Both players met at the net with a warm embrace, and although OOGA was severely defeated, he did get lucky that night.

Nothing more could be found on Tennis' fierce rivalry between OOGA and BOOGA because of the sudden arrival of the Ice Age. They were frozen instantly maintaining their tennis form for all to see.

Somewhere in the northern glaciers of the Russian Arctic, OOGA and BOOGA still wait for the thaw to complete their game. BOOGA is eager to claim another grandslam, while OOGA is hoping to avoid a "slam" and get lucky again later on.

My Memories of US Open 2009

Robert Orzechowski — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 13:57:31 -0400

Do you see how dejected Roger Federer looks in this photo? Well, if you add anger and frustration with an urge to murder a CBS executive, then I think you would know exactly how I feel.

My US Open 2009 experience started on that Monday evening. My in-laws were over, and my wife was taking them out to get ice cream, which would leave me alone for a while to watch the match (which by then had already been in progress for a while).

I was enthralled with the highs and lows of the match, certain that Roger would eventually finish the job since he was mostly ahead. I was disappointed when he could not take a 2-0 lead.

The match was reaching a crescendo in the fourth set, and I was glued to the TV set to see what would happen next. Nothing could tear me away from the moment...nothing except...ACCESS HOLLYWOOD.

The match was violently ripped away from my vision to be replaced by Access Hollywood. Now I could not let out a scream yet because I thought it was just a commercial break, even if it was coming in the middle of a TIEBREAKER.

I waited and waited. Finally I realized that one of the most important tennis tournaments of the year was schlacked out by a third-rate gossip show.

My hands went into the air, and immediately I began to wail...first a F*CK!!!! and then a long ARRRRGHHHH followed by a large "C O M E O N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

After my angered outbursts, I turned to my computer, which has one bad-*ss, cheap sound card. Because I have this crappy sound card, the videos play faster than they should. Because they play faster than they should, they stall because they cannot stream properly.

Frustrated with just 10 minutes of crappy transmission in which I could not comprehend the normal progression of time, I screamed again—one big long F-bomb, wringing my hands with a long "come on," finally with a good "I will hunt you down and kill you!"

My swearing all but bled out of my system, I slumped into my chair. I felt relief that no one had to hear that. I was exhausted.

With Roger being blown out in the fifth set, the rest of the family trotted in, and I ate my ice cream with a mixed depression. My wife asked my mother-in-law whether my daughter woke up while they were out.

My face went as red as Roger's collar. "Mom" had been upstairs all along, and for the next 15 minutes, I explained how frustrated I was at the TV and those bloody broadcasters at CBS. She never let on that she heard anything, but you never know.

It was bad enough Roger lost, but worse that some schmuck thought it was more important to cut out a major sporting event in favor of Access Hollywood.

When it rains, it pours!

The Inspiration of John McEnroe

Robert Orzechowski — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 10:33:08 -0400

Last night, Serena pulled a "John McEnroe" in her loss to Kim Clijsters in straight sets. Serena has only been one of the latest to emulate the fiery former great. Here are some other examples of the legacy of John McEnroe:

Any Public Service Transportation

Since McEnroe left the tour, the public transit system has never been the same

Passenger puts change money for fare of bus/subway.

Driver: Sorry sir, but that is $2.50 please.

Passenger: I PUT $2.50 IN!!

Driver: Well, it looks to me that you only put in $1.75. Please put in another .75.

Passenger: LISTEN TO ME YOU SH**HEAD! i PUT IN $2.50 AND I HAVE NO MORE CHANGE.

Driver: Sir, I don't care for your abusive tone. Either put in the complete fair or get off the bus.

Passenger: BUT I PAID YOU THE FARE YOU SCHMUCK, YOU POOR EXCUSE FOR A LIFE!

Driver: That's it get off the bus!

Passenger: OK fine but what about my money??

Driver: Get off the bus before I call the police!

Passenger: YOU STOLE MY MONEY YOU MOTHER^&%$#@*!!!!

Bus drives off leaving passenger fuming.

The Flintstones

Fred: Hey Barney Boy, I need my mower back. The grass is getting tall.

Barney: Hey sorry, Fred. I am loaning it out to everyone down the block. Making a pretty profit out of it too. Ahee-hee-hee-hee-hee.

Fred: Why you &*$% b*stard!! You mean to tell me that the mower I gave you, you have been making money from?

Barney: Now easy, Fred.

Fred: Don't you "easy Fred" me! I am going to make you swallow my bowling ball whole, you lame excuse for a neanderthal!!

Fred curses and chases Barney down the street where the same background repeatedly goes by.

The Pope

Pope: Call in Bishop Svengal.

Two cardinals bring in a defiant bishop.

Bishop Svengal: Your Holiness, I want to explain...

Pope: THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN YOU SICK, PATHETIC HEATHEN. YOU HAVE BLASPHEMED TO THE HEAVENS!

Bishop Svengali: Your Holiness, I had no idea that the couple I married were both men...

Pope: THEY WERE BOTH WEARING TUXEDOS YOU DIMWITTED MORON!!

Bishop: Your Holiness, I thought it was the new trend to make the wife a bit more..you know...modern.

Pope: Has it ever occurred to you that NOTHING in the Church is supposed to be "modern"? Get your stink-infested tail out of Rome. You are hereby ex-communicated!!

Bishop: Yes, Your Holiness...

Bishop goes to leave but the Pope orders him to halt.

Pope: Wait, you sh*thead!!! I am not done swearing at you yet, you dung-infested, rotting cesspool! &^%$*!!!!!

Bishop: Anything else Your Holiness...

Pope: F * C K O F F!!! You idiotic imbecile!!!

The Pope is calmed down by his two assistants as the Bishop is ushered away.

President Obama

Obama: Uh..Natasha, I believe it is your turn to take Bo out for a walk and you..uh have to....clean uh up the mess he made in the uh...Oval ..the Oval Office.

Sasha: Stick this puppy up your A**, Mr. President and my name is not Natasha, it's Sasha. You do remember naming me, right?

Obama: Now uh Sasha. You ...can call me Daddy and uh not ..uh Mr. President.

Sasha: That's all I hear all day. "Mr. President" this and "Mr. President" that. It's all about you, isn't it Daddee!

Obama: uh...well...

Sasha: I am tired of waiting for you to finish your f***ing sentences and I am not taking Bo for a walk and I am not cleaning up his mess because it is not my f***ing turn! Get Malia to do it.

Obama: Uh well Malia is on an overnight with her friends.

Sasha: So fine, sending the f***ing little puppy over there and let her do it.

Obama: Ok, um that is a good idea, I arrange to get the limo.

Aside from all these examples, McEnroe's legacy will continue to live on the hundreds of thousands of cases of road rage and any other incidents where spoiled brats use verbal abuse. Long live McEnroe!

Humour vs. Humour: Why Novak Djokovic Will Beat Roger Federer

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 22:21:53 -0400

This is the first half of a two-part segment of Humour vs. Humour. The second part will be written by Frankie, analysing why Federer will defeat Djokovic in the US Open semifinals. Here is my portion...

Oh no! The swarming legion of Federer fans are ready to pounce on me. As I shield my arms to hopelessly defend myself from the onslaught, I pull out my only weapon available to me.

I don my flowing robe of word-spilling fiction and hand over the dubious task to Novak Djokovic himself to explain why he will beat Federer in Friday's semifinal.

The following is a paid service announcement:

Novak Djokovic: Good evening, ladies and gentleman of Bleachland. I, Novak Djokovic believe that I can do it. I can beat Roger Federer.

Let me clarify. I can beat Roger Federer at:

Table tennis
Serbian Dance Marathon
Women's Beach Volleyball
Wrestling (Japanese sumo or tag-team with the Djokovic family)
Cock-fighting (settle down, ladies; it is a fight among the pecking animals)
and many other sports that I am versatile in.

Of course, these sports will not help me when I face Roger in Friday's semifinal match. I do have a few tactics that can put Roger off of his game, though.

I can get into Roger's head by doing my Nadal impersonations! Maybe not; he is so damn serious during the match.

Since Roger's tennis style this year is known as "Sith Federer," I will show up as "Obi Wan Djokovic." My racket will hum when I hit a winner and the force will be with me. Hopefully, his forehand will not send me scurrying like an Ewok.

When Roger hits a winner, he yells "COME ON!" When I hit a winner, I will yell "ROGER THAT!"

I will also go over my pre-match checklist:

Spiked haircut—check!
Completely different spare shirt in case I am losing—check!
Winnie the Pooh boxers—check!
Chest pad for heavy thumping—check!
Water spiked with Serbian wild whiskey—check!
Sense of humour in case of defeat—check!
Small mirror on towel to check face—check!
Tiny mirror on my shoulder to check out the women behind me—check!
Fake blood in pocket for an injury timeout—check!
Fast-food Serbian pizza guy on call in case of washroom break—check!

I, Novak Djokovic am ready to face Ferrer...umm...I mean Ferrero....umm...damn! OK, it's Federer, and fight for the right to get to the finals if not to finish the semifinals without retiring.

Maybe I will win and maybe I won't. Roger is 28 and I am only 22. This is the real advantage because when I am 54, Roger will be 60, and I will definitely kick his a** for all the times he has beat me.

I can't wait for those years, but, in the meantime, I am going to face him and hope for the best!

I am Djoker and I approve of this message!

Melanie Oudin F-Bomb Doll Now on Sale! (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 07:24:41 -0400

Somewhere in the United States, a profiteering marketer is scheming to capitalize on the rising fame of young tennis star Melanie Oudin. The commercial campaign would go something like this:

On a pink background screen the words flash on the screen to start the commercial.

Warning: The following commercial is rated NP, for children viewing only and may contain scenes intended only for teens and pre-teens. Children distracting parents is advised.

Announcer: Hey kids! You have seen her on television and watched her be the comeback kid of the 2009 US Open. She's Melanie Oudin and K-Tel presents THE MELANIE OUDIN F-BOMB doll!!

The Melanie Oudin F-Bomb doll does all the things you wish you could do. It fights and fights to get what it wants and occasionally just occasionally you'll hear the F-bomb! Now you can use that F-bomb without ever having to say it, and there's nothing your parents can do about it.

Scene goes to a daughter playing with her doll and her mother in the other room.

Mother: Karen honey, clean up your room, it is a mess!!

The child is enjoying her play is disturbed and goes to the Melanie Oudin doll and pushes the button on her nose.

Melanie Oudin Doll: F * C K !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mother: What did I just hear you say!!!

Karen: It wasn't me, Mom. It was the doll.

The mother shakes her head and walks away.

Announcer: The Melanie Oudin F-Bomb Doll can be yours for only $49.95 plus shipping and handling. Don't worry about the pricing, kids. Just get your Daddy's credit card and call this toll free 1-800 number flashing on the screen and we'll take care of the rest.

The Melanie Oudin F-Bomb is also available in French, Spanish, and German. Call now and we will send you a free stink-mode that starts when a parent tries to take the doll away from you. You'll never part with your doll again! The Melanie Oudin F-Bomb doll available now only by calling. Not available in stores. Batteries sold separately!!

Roger Federer Enters the French Language [Humor]

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 23:52:50 -0400

Roger "Federer" has now entered the French language. "Federer" in French is pronounced Federay, much like Aller is pronounced Allay.

"Federer" in French is a verb that can be conjugated. It means to totally dominate to the point of owning or to claim one as his/her own.

The Verb Federer

Je feder—I own/dominate

Tu feder—You own/dominate

Il/Elle feder—He/She owns/dominates

Nous federons—We own/dominate

Vous federez—You (plural or courtesy) own/dominate

Ils/Elles federent—They own/dominate

"Federer" can be used in the future tense:

Je vais te federer dans la hopscotch. Translation: I will completely own you in the game of hopscotch.

"Federer" can be used in the past tense:

Hier soir, J'ai federé ta mêre dans ma chambre. Translation: Last night, I completely dominated your mother in my bedroom.

"Federer" can be used as a command:

Federez-elle avant qu'elle prendraient les décisions! Translation: Dominate her before she makes all the decisions!

"Federer" can be used as an "in the moment" action:

Appellez-moi plus tard, je federant le Playstation. Translation: Call me later, I am dominating at Playstation.

"Federer" can also be used in a passive way:

Oh, Oh Federez-moi...FEDEREZ-MOI! No translation needed here!

Also in an imperfect past tense:

Oh mon dieu, mon patron a trouvè mes couriel erotique! J'ai étés federait!!! Translation: My boss discovered my erotic emails! I am screwed!!

So next time you are in Quebec, France, or any other French speaking country and you hear the words that sound like "Federer", it is probably not about Roger Federer but more likely to pertain to being dominated, owned, or screwed. Only the French can pay tribute to the legend like this!!

Bon Federance a tous!

Lleyton Hewitt Indulges in a Side Hobby (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 07:42:44 -0400

In some smoky Sydney blues bar, Lleyton Hewitt was getting ready for an open mic night where all kinds of novice musical acts take to the stage. Some were great and some were bad Karaoke at best.

Hewitt, equipped with only an acoustic 12-string took to the stage. At first the audience did not realize or recognize the tennis star.

"G'day mates. Want to sing a song 'bout my life and how it's been going lately."

Yesterdaiii,

Oll ma troubles seemed so faar awaiiii

Now it looks as though there here to staiii

Oy, I believe in yasterdaiii

Suddenlie, Federer's wrath rained down on mieee

Didn't know what the f*** had hit mieee

Oy, I beloive in yasterdaii

Whoy, e had to win, it's a sin but that's the waiii

I cry every noight, it ain't roight, let's call it a daiiii

Yasterday! Tennis was such an easy game to plaiii

Now, my 'ip is goin on its own waiii

Oh, I beloive in yasterdayy!!

MMMMMM..MMMM...AHHHHH SPIT!!!!

Crowd erupts into large applause and a new star in music is born.

Roger Federer Hoists $25 Walmart Nut Bowl For Cincinnati Win (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 18:21:38 -0400

Cincinnati organizer Keith Levitt was frantic. He had worked hard and long to make sure that the Cincinnati Masters went off without a hitch. He knew all eyes would definitely be on the city especially during the men's tour.

Levitt tried to breathe a sigh of relief but he had that nagging feeling that he forgot something.

That something was going wallop him with about a half an hour remaining in the final between Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic.

The realization made his eyes widen with horror. With one heart-attack induced gasp, he screamed.

"SH*T!!!! THE F**CK'N TROPHIES!!!

He yelled for his assistant Arnie "Goonie" Gobson. Gobson was a slow-witted nephew that Levitt promised to take under his wing.

He smacked Arnie's hand with $150. "Get over to any trophy store you can and get something that involves a tennis theme. You have to get back here before the match is over so...MOVE!"

Before Arnie could ask any questions, Uncle Keith pushed him out the door. Arnie did not know of any trophy stores and if he did, this was Sunday. So he went to the only store that he knew could help him out.

He went to Wal-Mart.

He asked almost every associate where he could get a pair of trophies, but no one had any idea of what he wanted.

Finally, one associate pointed out that there were some lovely crystal nut and fruit bowls on sale. They were $25 each and $45 for the pair. Arnie bought both and raced back towards the stadium

He presented his purchases to his uncle who then turned white.

"WHAT THE F*** DID YOU DO! I OUGHT TO SMASH THIS OVER YOUR ....OH SHOOT, Roger has won...give me that!!!"

Levitt raced over and placed the two bowls on the table just as the presentation was about to start. He started to sweat and if he had eaten anything for lunch, he was sure he would have crapped it by now.

Amazingly, the presentation went off without a hitch. Levitt did notice the Walmart price sticker on the bottom of each trophy but was not worried as both players had an abundance of trophies not to notice.

Gobson was about to leave when his uncle called for him. Expecting to be rewarded for his efforts, he was surprised when his uncle asked for his change.

Levitt smiled as his nephew handed over the money. "Great. Next year we're going to Price Choppers!"

My Conversation with Novak Djokovic (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 21:14:24 -0400

I got a call close to midnight last night. I scurried to the phone still trying to re-route myself back from slumber land.

The voice on the other end was desperate and drunk. I cleared my eyes and tried to listen. Words are not comprehended as quickly when a foreign accent is involved.

Novak D.: Hello, is this Robert Orzechowski?

Robert O: Yes, who is this and do you realize what time you are calling?

Novak D: Robert, I am a tennis player and I am in need of your assistance.

Robert O: Look, I am not buying anything, especially from Eastern Europe. Do you telemarketers realize what time it is here in Canada?

Novak D: Robert, this is Novak Djokovic.

Robert O: Novak Djokovic? This is a prank right? Why the hell would Novak Djokovic be calling me of all people?

Novak D: I have read your articles and you are almost the last writer that writes about me, anywhere!

Robert O: I hope you have not read my articles about you or this could be a tad embarrassing.

Novak D: No worries. I make fun of Nadal. You make fun of me. Roger makes fun of you and on it goes.

Robert O: Wait a minute...Roger makes fun of me?

Novak D: That is not important now. I need you to write an article saying that I am back.

Robert O: But you aren't back.

Novak D: Yes, I am.

Robert O: Uh, no you are not.

Novak D: Yes, I am back.

Robert O: Wait a minute. Do you mean that you are back on tour?

Novak D: No, I mean back in form.

Robert O: Oh I see...of course. In that case, no, you are not.

Novak D: Yes, I am.

Robert O: Look, you obviously have not had the same results as in 2008. You lost your No. 3 ranking, you don't do impersonations anymore, you have gone all serious, you changed your racket. How exactly are you back?

Novak D: You know, I phoned Rob York and he did not give me this much trouble.

Robert O: Really, you phoned Rob York before you called here?

Novak D: Yes.

Robert O: And he did not give you the trouble that I am giving you?

Novak D: No, he hung up on me.

Robert O: Smart guy.

Novak D: Please Robert, I am begging you. I will give you exclusive interviews when I win my next slam.

Robert O: Yeah, right. What is it exactly I should be writing about?

Novak: I want you to write about the Novak Djokovic who bares it all after a tennis match.

Robert O: Actually, I already did a humor piece about you doing a Playgirl spread.

Novak D: No, I want a serious piece about me.

Robert O: Serious piece? You do realize that I am a humor writer!

Novak D: LJ Silver was right about you. You are a...how do you say...a one-trick horse.

Robert O: You called LJ Silver too?

Novak D: Yes, but he could not help me unless I got him a Lleyton Hewitt interview and well, I don't like Hewitt that much to do it. So can you help me?

Robert O: Well, let me see. If I think really hard about this and this should be a no-brainer, I would definitely, positively have to say no.

Novak D: (checking his book) OK, thank you...now I have to call JA Allen. Goodbye!

Robert O: Hey, wait a minute. How does Roger make fun of me?

(click)

Robert O: I am going to pound the right side of my brain if this is a dream.

Andy Murray Goes Undercover As a Birthday Clown (Satire)

Robert Orzechowski — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 23:08:31 -0400

Between the long stretch of time between Wimbledon and the Roger's Cup, Andy Murray had the chance to work on his game. More importantly, he had a mandatory meeting with his Public Relations management.

Riley "Smiley" Jenkins was Murray's contact. He stood 5'2", weighed 297lbs, and was the jolliest man this side of Disneyland.

Jenkins was far too cheery for Andy Murray's liking but he tolerated him as he had to work with Jenkins in order to improve his Scottish dour image.

"Well, Andy, we need to lighten you up a bit. You are much to frigid. You don't seem comfortable in your own skin. So, I thought you could be someone else for a day. Here is your makeup bag and here are your clothes. ", he said.

"Hurry up and get dressed because you have a birthday party in just a half an hour." Jenkins roared.

Andy Murray looked at his gear. "What is this stuff?"

Jenkins almost burst out of his skin. "It's a clown outfit!!! Now get ready because the kids are waiting."

Half an hour later, Andy Murray showed up to the birthday party wearing a "Bozo The Clown" outfit complete with a large red afro wig and four feet long inflated shoes.

Andy Murray (under his breath): I don't f***ing believe I am doing this.

Mother of the Birthday child: Oh good, the clown is here. The kids are waiting for you in the back. HEY KIDS, BOZO IS HERE!!!

A group of ten hyper eight year olds, rush over to Andy Murray knocking him over and pummeling him.

Andy Murray: "Jes** Chr***! Get OFF OF ME!

Birthday Boy: Mommy! Mommy! That clown just took the Lord's name in vain and he is a big meanie!

Mother: Really! I don't know who you think you are, you clown but you had better watch your mouth or I will roll your ten foot tongue out and wash it with soap!

Andy Murray: Yes ma'am.

Mother: Now get in the back and entertain them. They are expecting a magic show by the pool side.

Andy Murray gets set up for the magic show while the kids all gather and sit in front of him. They have been drinking pop all day and can hardly sit still. They each have a basket of candy. Andy takes far too long to get set for the show.

Kid 1: Come on you dufus! Hurry up and do some magic!

Kid 2: Is he a real clown? It doesn't look like he is smiling at all!

Kid 3: Hey, make Jimmy the dork here disappear or change him into a frog so I can slip him down Janie Thompson's dress.

Andy the clown tries a lame trick in which the coin that he was trying to hide accidentally falls out of his trick sleeve.

Birthday Kid: Bozo, YOU SUCK!!!

All the kids start shrieking the same thing and start to pelt Andy the clown with their available candy. The sudden onslaught of candy hitting Andy sends him backwards causing him to fall into the pool. His large inflatable feet were stubbornly refusing to sink into the wavy pool water.

Birthday Kid: HEY EVERYBODY!!! CANDY IN THE POOL! EVERYONE CANNONBALL THE POOL AND GET THE CANDY!!

Andy was just getting to the surface of the water when a barrage of kids came flying at him. Each cannonball threatened to keep him under. He finally managed to get his water-filled over-size shoes out of the pool and layed on his back trying to cough up the excessive chlorine water. The mother was standing over him with her hands on her hip.

Mother: Is this what you call entertaining? You got clown makeup, your magic cards, pigeons and a rabbit floating around with the kids in my pool. I hope you have a trick that makes all that disappear my friend or you will be cleaning this all up!

Before Andy could say anything, the birthday boy showed up with a large furry donkey's tail.

Birthday Boy: HEY EVERYBODY! LET'S PLAY PIN THE TAIL ON THE DUFUS CLOWN!!

He then starts to jab and stab Andy in the rear with the large pointy pin end.

Andy Murray: AAHHH F***!!!! That hurts, you little Sh**!!!

Mother (Calls to her husband): BUTCH! Come here and throw this lousy, foul-mouthed, poor excuse of a clown out!

Just then Butch, a meaty 6'2 325lb monster shows up and drags Andy the clown out by his over-sized toes. Less than an hour later, a physically wrecked Andy Murray shows up at Riley Jenkin's office.

He throws down the clown clothes and magic kit on Jenkin's desk.

Andy Murray: I have had it up to here with your PR bullsh**! From now on, I play tennis, concentrate on tennis and nothing else.

I am going to be one bad-a** tennis player. I am going to destroy my opponents and I will give the worst interviews ever. Just shoot me if you ever see me smile!

Andy Murray walks out of the office and on his way to number two.

Federer Twins Unconsolable After Loss To Tsonga (humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 08:41:14 -0400

The FFT (Fearsome Federer Twins) were up past their bedtime waiting for their dad to come home and explain his latest loss to Jo-Wilfred Tsonga yesterday.

The twins who got to see Daddy on television wailed through most of the match. They soiled their diapers continuously during the third set in which Daddy was leading 5-1 and only needed one game to close out the match.

Their wait for Daddy was a long one because after the post-match interview, Daddy Federer needed some down time to figure out how he was going to explain this loss to his daughters.

He spent some time reflecting on the top of Mont-Royal overlooking the city of Montreal. He finally could not avoid the inevitable and headed back to his hotel to face the music of the angry double trouble waiting for him.

Mirka was the one who confronted him when he got in.

"Roger, you cannot go on playing like that. You have upset Charlene and Myla greatly. They even tried to pee in the direction of the TV set."

"They would not even take breast milk, they were so upset at what they saw," she said. "If this happens again in Cincinnati, they may go on a hunger strike."

Roger shook his head and agreed. He went to his twin girls and held each of them, apologizing profusely for his big letdown.

"I mean, you know it was interesting and a close match, you know. But you know, Daddy will be back next year. It wasn't too bad and I still feel confident!"

As the babies continued to wail, Mirka was not impressed. "Cut the crap, Roger! That slop might work for the media and public, but your daughters aren't buying it!"

She then took a baby in each arm and left the room.

Roger sat in a chair looking up to the ceiling. He would have to start practice early tomorrow because there would be no further disappointment for his three girls.

Frankie Catches Men with Their Pants Down (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 14:30:23 -0400

Armed with a Charlie Chaplin hat and Hitler moustache, Frankie disguised herself and made her way into the men's locker room at the Roger's Cup tournament in Montreal, Canada.

There were many tennis player milling about and most of them were in no mood to answer reporters' questions. They were either coming back from a hard won match or a heartbreaking loss, or were deep in concentration for their approaching match.

Frankie's eyes darted left to right. She had not seen this much beefcake since her stint to interview the Chippendales in all their glory. Her eyes went from the left-right direction to the down direction.

She was in a delirious state. She started to talk to herself in a not-so-quiet fashion.

"Andy Murray, boy you have beefed up my friend and...oh...well there is one area I guess that does not get bigger with the rest of you. Poor Britain!"

"There goes Nadal. Oh my...they were right about him. He really is a bull. Vamos and get out of the way."

"Here comes the legend Roger Federer. Oh take the towel off. Please take the towel off...yes...but hey...wow...twin tattoos on the back cheeks. I am impressed!"

"Andy Roddick in full exposed nudity. Uh oh. Hey buddy, keep the cap on...you are spoiling the rest of the package...hubba hubba..."

"Gael Monfils, no wonder you are continuously hitting too far out. You are pointing to the left...got to compensate for that pal, A la prochaine!"

"Uh oh, here comes Verdasco chasing me. Doesn't he know that I am supposed to be a man?"

"Excuse me, Novak! Seen it all before on the court...and um...I like the top half better than the bottom half."

Frankie running from Verdasco, runs head first into a big security guard and bounces off his pot belly and onto the floor.

Her moustache did not follow her and stuck to the security guard's wet and greasy shirt.

"This belong to you?" he asked, dangling the mini-moustache.

As all the players gathered around to watch the commotion, the security guard picked Frankie up and escorted her out.

"I'll be back, fellows...maybe we can have a beer and talk about the Knick's game?"

"I love you, Roger"

"I LOVE YOU, ROGER!"

"I L O V E Y O U R O G E R ! ! ! "

As she disappeared out down the hall, the men looked at each other shaking their heads before getting back to their old routine.

An Open Letter As Dictated By Roger Federer To Bleacher Report (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 22:16:53 -0400

Hello All My Fans and Everyone Else,

Yeah, I mean I just wanted to write this brief letter, you know...to kind of respond to all the feedback out there with Rafa and all, you know...

I mean, I won Wimbledon and the French Open and Rafa didn't, you know...He is still a great competitor, you know and I look forward to battling with him some more, you know and Andy Murray is improving and so is Andy Roddick who right now is, you know, playing unbelievable.

I mean, don't worry Andy, you are you know, going to come back next year and win it if I don't make at least the semi-finals so I am sure you are going to do well...you know?

I mean all these younger players are going to come at me you know and I am just going to do my best, I mean to beat them and defend my title, you know.

Sure I mean these guys are all dangerous and can get at you if you are not with your game, you know.

You know, I have been through some hard times, you know. Wimbledon 2008 was difficult for me and Rafa grabbed the crown at the very last minute due to darkness, you know. I mean. That was difficult.

So Andy I know how it feels to lose, you know? I know how it feels to let the tears all out when you are trying to hold it in you know.

I don't know what is going to happen for the US Open, you know, but I feel that I have a great chance to reclaim the glory, you know. I mean it is astounding to think that I could take home a sixth US Open and consecutively, you know.

I mean, I don't know what else I can tell you, you know? I mean it's the "not knowing", you know? I mean, sure anything can happen right?

Well that is about all you know. I mean, I have nothing else to say and if I did you wouldn't know what I was talking about, you know so let's leave it at that.

Sincerely

Roger Federer

Editor's Note: Yeah, I mean, we know Roger, you know?

An Open Letter to Bleacher Report from Rafael Nadal (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 09:07:26 -0400

Hola Blicherr Rreporrt,

Jou may not know dis, but I read jour articels and hef to complen mucho about lotta tings.

Primero, I hef de problem wit my knis and all of jou who call me liar, well jour pants gonna be hot, not mine. Why jou Roger fans so min against me? I say dat Rog is da bes all di time so Rog fans shud like me and say tankyuverymuch!

Second and mos importanto! Bleacher report, Rafa no like spam!!!! Jou tink dat I need to work at home? Rafa already gad a job! To play my bes at tennis. No interesto in San Francisco Times telling to work from home.

I hef di tendonitis and if Rafa hev di choice for to take di tendonitis or di spam, I gonna choose di tendonitis efery time! Tankyuverymuch!

Third, who is dis Robert ORCHEZOShOWSKI? He make fun of me too mucho! I no really speak like dat, no? Jou play me in tennis and I gonna keel you wurse dan Djokovic.

So, Blicher Raport, jou need to tings. Uno, a community leader who like Rafa jus as mucho as di Silver Long Johns. Dos, di system of ranking dat makes less sense dan di women's game. And di last, Blicher reporrt, come se diche? Oh jeah, GEDDA Life!!

A la proxima!

Rafa

Roger Federer Public Service Announcement (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 09:12:19 -0400

Roger Federer has come out with a public service announcement on changing babies' diapers. The camera hones in on Roger and then pans out where he is in the middle of his crying twins, both in need of a diaper change.

Roger Federer: Hi Everybody. I am here to talk to you about the importance of changing your baby or babies' diapers. I have with me here Charlene and Myla.

Say hello to everyone, girls (babies continue to cry). Right, OK, let's continue on. First thing that is important is to assess that the babies need their diapers changed.

I am looking at them right now and they are crying like I lost the Australian Open all over again. If we look at the diapers, we see that they are puffed. This is similar to when I check the tennis balls to see which ones are puffed. Those ones will be slower so I chuck them away.

So we have to chuck these puffed ones away too. Before we do that though, we need to get the new diapers ready. These two new ones are ready to replace the old ones much in the same way, I replace my racket when new balls are being introduced.

Not much different than tennis is it? Next we unwrap the old diapers and remove them.

Be prepared to smell...OOhhhh...a not so nice odor. Wow...that reeks worst than a Karlovic volley.

We take the diapers off and roll it into tennis balls. Put them on the side and wipe all the excess dirt from the bums. Then after a thorough cleaning apply the appropriate cream. This is soothing like a post-match massage.

Next, take the new diapers and place it under them and tape them up tighter than Rafa's knees. By this time, your baby's tears should disappear to happy times again. It's like seeing their daddy win his 20th Grand Slam!

Here comes the fun part. Take out your racket and pick up the rolled soily diaper. Throw it up in the air and swat it to the garbage can in the corner.

Make sure the diaper is tightly sealed otherwise your serve will result in there being sh** on the walls and Mirka will definitely break my serve. If your serves are well-placed, you will hit the open garbage can everytime.

Finally, pick your baby or babies up one by one and kiss them much like I do when I kiss my trophy after I have won a Grand Slam.

Tune in next week when I will demonstrate how to burp my babies and then give them both a bath in my new French Open trophy.

Top 10 Things for Marat Safin to Do After He Retires (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 16:55:13 -0400

After the U.S. Open, the tennis season will be winding down. That means Marat Safin, who is retiring, will have a whole lot of extra time on his hands.

Here is a list of possible things for him to do.

1. Judge the annual Miss Russia Mail-Order Bride Contest.

2. Snorkel in the Black Sea, looking for caviar.

3. Non-stop prank call Nikolay Davydenko, pretending to be the Russian mob.

4. Work on his memoirs, entitled "What I could have been."

5. Get a sex change so he can add the "a" to the end of his name, just like his sister.

6. Purchase all the Russian minks in stock and send them to PETA headquarters.

7. Claim the North Pole for Russia against Canada. After failing at that, put up a tennis net right across the pole to show where the Russian-Canadian border is.

8. Ship a whole herd of cows to a very surprised Wimbledon club.

9. Watch the Australia Open at home by filling the Australian cup to the brim with Russian vodka.

10. Take on Nike employment as a racket tester, smashing up to 25 rackets a day. Proper job title: Nike Product Manager.

Novak Djokovic Blames Swine Flu for Early Wimbledon Exit (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 11:21:43 -0400

It has been confirmed that Novak Djokovic's loss to Tommy Haas at Wimbledon can be blamed on the Swine Flu. Djokovic suspected something was afoul when, during his match, he started to weeze.

"I felt strange as I was playing him. I started to snort uncontrollably after every one of my shots and had a craving for fermented milk," he said.

He apparently contracted it from a family picnic just prior to the Wimbledon tournament.

"We were picking out a pig to slaughter on the family farm. I picked out a pig that looked juicy but now that I think about it, he could have had a runny nose. My bad."

Djokovic now believes that he is fully recovered and ready for the upcoming US Open.

"I believe I will be ok. However if I play poorly and get knocked out of the upcoming tournaments, it probably means that that pig also had mono. I knew something was wrong when I concluded my post-match interview in Wimbledon with an 'appya appya appya'...THAT'S ALL FOLKS!"

Djokovic's doctor could not be reached for comment and his personal trainer declined all interview requests.

My Tennis Community Leader Concession Speech (Humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 21:51:39 -0400

Ladies and Gentleman, writers, Bleacher Report executives,

I wish to thank you all for this marvelous experience of running for the Tennis division Community Leader. Herein, I will refer to it as the CL.

Of course it was a fun time and the only thing that could have topped it was if I, in fact, "knew" I was running for it.

The CL position within the Bleacher Report is a highly respectable post that anyone of great ambition, pride in writing would strive for—provided they "knew" it even existed.

I myself thought it was an abbreviation for a certain board game called "Clue". I kept thinking everyone was going to discuss Professor Plum with the rope in the conservatory.

I had hoped this would be a contest that none of you would ever forget, but that is asking a lot because I, myself as a contender cannot recall too much about anything regarding this campaign.

I need to thank the paid executives of Bleacher Report for completely keeping me in the dark about my candicacy, as well as their identities. Of course, if they still plan on electing me—job well done!

I must say a few words about the outgoing leader Long John Silver. I want to join the cast of characters on Bleacher's Report in eulogizing LJ like he has just passed away. There is nothing like receiving a eulogy when your carcass is still very much alive.

I like LJ and really never had a problem with him. His articles were articulate and well expressed even when he was downright wrong. I think LJ should be congratulated for being the first non-aboriginal Aussie to hold the post for CL.

LJS continues to be ranked number one in tennis writing at B/R. When I asked about the secret of his success, basically he told me not to be a one-trick pony. "Now let me get back to my 50th article on Leyton Hewitt", he said.

I would like to wish [insert CL winner here] on his/her election to the post. I am sure [insert CL winner here] will foster care and consideration to all the writers in the small tennis community, encouraging great masterpieces and lightly urinating on those who write trash.

Finally, I would like to thank God for whom, this all would not be possible. His work (based on the Darwinian model) billions and billions of years ago has finally come into fruition as we see [insert CL winner here] starts his/her important mandate as CL.

I am sure you will all join me in wishing [insert CL winner here] in a long career which will not result in our impending apocalypse. That of course will be duly avoided upon further thanks...to God.

I look forward to seeing you all again at the conclusion, abdication, firing and/or mutiny of [insert CL winner here].

Sincerely,

Robert Orzechowski

Roger Federer Takes On Jesus In The Greatest Tennis Match Of All (humor)

Robert Orzechowski — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 09:35:06 -0400

He had no idea how he got there, but Roger Federer was facing his toughest opponent yet. He knew he had a chance though because the tennis court was a neatly trimmed plush grass of the likes of which he had never seen before.

At first he thought it was Bjorn Borg on the other side. A long-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard was on the other side warming up. Roger could see that the man was playing with physically visible signs of tendinitis in both hands and both feet.

Roger looked over at the chair umpire and relished the irony in recognizing him to be John McEnroe. McEnroe summoned both players to the front of his chair.

"Alright, I want a fair fight, Jesus, no funny stuff; just plain good ol' tennis understood?", he said. "That means no coaching from any outsiders like your mother or your father or ...you! I mean, umm...keep the trinity out of this. Whatever, just keep it clean."

Roger served first and won the first game. Jesus then served and held. They went back and forth throughout the first set until it was tied 6-6. They then proceeded to the tiebreak.

On a crucial point, Jesus appeared to hit a ball well outside but all of a sudden the court line expanded and the ball landed in. It would have given the Lord a 6-5 lead.

John McEnroe stopped the play. "Jesus Christ!!"

Jesus replied with an innocent glance. "Yes?"

McEnroe was taken aback. "Uh yeah, come over here." Jesus approached the chair. "What did I tell you about keeping it clean?"

Jesus protested "I know not what thou means, sire".

McEnroe was not impressed. "For Chr***'s Sake, I mean...you kept the shot clean but you cannot adjust the lines. Now I have to award the point to Roger."

Jesus replied, "If thou sayest so."

McEnroe was not finished. "YES I SAYEST SO! NOW STEP BACK AND KEEP IT CLEAN AND KNOCK OFF THE BIBLICAL TALK, PAL.

It was 6-6 all and Roger served an ace down the middle. Federer then returned Jesus serve who then tripped over his white flowing robe and thus dropped the set.

Roger then took the second set 6-1 mostly due to the fact that Jesus was slowing down with his sandals. His feet were beginning to ache.

For the third set, Jesus took of his robe and played in his white loin cloth. It did the trick for he won the set 6-4. Roger complained to McEnroe.

"Hey it's not fair that I have to look at his thin body covered in slash marks, bruises and a hole in the side. It really ruins my concentration."

McEnroe called Jesus over. "Nice tactics, Jesus. However, I am going to have to insist that you put on the appropriate clothing. Hey, take that crown of thorns off too while you are at it. You can put it back on if you win the match."

Jesus stared at McEnroe for a bit, then shook off his crown and put his robe back on. He was going to deal with Nike very harshly if he won this match.

Roger broke Jesus in the fourth set but Jesus broke back the next game. They remained on serve up to a second tie break at 6-6.

The tie break went on serve up to 14-14. Jesus looking at Roger and seeing his sheer determination said, "How is your belief, son?" He then thundered a serve down the "T" which Roger returned with a beautiful backhand down the line.

Roger looked over at the messiah.

"My belief is pretty good. I beat Santa three days ago and I beat the Tooth Fairy yesterday in the semis and I am about to beat you now." With that, he threw the ball up in the air and served a hard ace to far outside leaving Jesus wondering where the ball went.

Jesus immediately rewound the play to make sure the ball was on the line.

McEnroe stood up on his chair and yelled, "JES** CHRI**, THAT BALL WAS IN!!!! GAME, SET, MATCH, ROGER FEDERER!! 7-6, 6-1, 4-6, 16-14."

Jesus fell to his knees and the ground began to shake. Just then, Mirka was shaking Roger awake.

"Roger wake up. You have to play Rafa today for the Madrid finals. What is that silly smile on your face?", she asked.

Roger's smile widened. "If Rafa thinks he can walk on water, I will still beat him."

And the rest as they say, is history.