A Tale of Two Injuries, Part II

Let me straight up admit that I perceive Bouchard to be irksomely entitled and privileged.  She reminds me of Jennifer Lawrence – loud, self-proclaiming, attention seeking, and beyond ignorant.  Let me give you one example of why I find Bouchard to be an annoying bore – and of course I respect your right to interpret her behavior differently than I did.   

In 2014, Bouchard was given a main draw wild card for the Hong Kong Open after reportedly forgetting to enter.  I have not checked the WTA Official Rulebook but I can’t imagine that forgetting to enter an event is consistent with established rules.   Bouchard was then widely promoted as the public face of the Hong Kong Open in an apparent exchange for appearance fees.  

Bouchard next proceeded to withdraw from the tournament at the last minute, citing heat exertion from the US Open.  Tournament organizers became understandably annoyed, having heavily marketed the event on the basis of her acceptance of a main draw wild card.  The WTA responded by fining a tournament official.  Bouchard seemed unfazed and unscathed, breezily moving on to the Wuhan Open where she lost in the finals.  And that, my friends, is how privilege works. 

A Tale of Two Injuries, Part I

In early September 2015, Eugenie Bouchard slipped and fell in a locker-room at the US Open, reportedly hitting her head.  According to her testimony in the lawsuit she subsequently brought against the United States Tennis Association (USTA), Bouchard had told a trainer that she would return for her ice bath after stretching and talking to the media.  When she returned to the locker-room, the trainers had all left.  As a result, there were no witnesses to her slip and fall.

At the time of this event, Bouchard’s career, which had been sizzling in 2014, was clearly on a path of decline.  After a breakthrough 2013 when she was named WTA Newcomer of the Year, Bouchard continued to enjoy significant success in 2014.  She won her first WTA title at a warm-up event to the French Open, and made it to the finals of Wimbledon.  She ended that year ranked in the top 5. 

But by 2015, Bouchard’s star had begun to fade.  She went on an embarrassing first-round losing streak, during which she fired the first of many subsequent coaches.  It has made no difference.

My enduring hook-up with Roger Federer

I am an unabashed Federer stan.  I have it so bad that I can't even pretend to be objective.  What I never expected was to have him be so long a part of my life.  When I first met Roger Federer -- in the 1990s at the US Open -- I initially mistook him for Carlos Moyá as he walked by me toward the practice courts. (Swear to God).  And then I saw him play and fell in love, and there has been no looking back.  I've rarely strayed.

I've loved other tennis players before of course.  But after five -- or ten years if I am lucky and they are uninjured -- I start looking around for the next newbies to whom I could offer my heart.  I'm thinking about players like Marat Safin and his sister whose name I now barely remember.  How long did our tennis affair last?  It felt like a blip, here intensely today, gone just like nothing tomorrow.  Sabine?  Something like that.  Not even worth looking up.  Perhaps not even worth any of the moments I invested in her emotionally.

Then again, that is a cynical and unfair statement.  I can't only invest in players for their longevity.  It's quite OK to have small flings, brief intense affairs that meet the needs of the moment with no promise of a future.  There is always room in a lifetime for such hook-ups.  Who am I to judge myself?

The problem I think is the not knowing.  In real life, when you swap right on Tinder, you know that you are going into a temporary hook-up.  There is no question of anything lasting.  It's wham, bam, thank you Ham.  But when your friends set you up with someone new that they know for sure you are so right for each other, your heart remains less buttressed, more willing to take that risk toward permanence.