Monday, November 16, 2009

Andre Agassi's Big Misunderstanding


SATIRE — 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.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Newest Testament: The Greatest Tennis Birth Story Ever Told


SATIRE — 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 enemythe 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 himSchweitzerland.  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 menBorg, 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."

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Gallery Of Fame (Fantasy)

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.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

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

CINCINNATI - AUGUST 23:  Roger Federer of Switzerland holds the winners trophy aloft after defeating Novak Djokovic of Serbia in the Singles Final during day seven of the Western & Southern Financial Group Masters on August 23, 2009 at the Lindner Family Tennis Center in Cincinnati, Ohio.  (Photo by Nick Laham/Getty Images) (Photo by Nick Laham/Getty Images)
SATIRE — 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!"

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Andy Murray Goes Undercover As a Birthday Clown (Satire)


SATIRE — 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.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

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

SATIRE — 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.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Star Trek Episode: The Federer Salvage


SATIRE — Captain Kirk (Spoken in pauses and quick sentences):  Captain's Log Stardate 0423157 point 2.  The Enterprise has gone through time travel back to 2009 to investigate a possible malfunction of one...tennis spy drone and to...de-commission an older one.
The...purpose of these...drones..are two-fold.  The primary focus is to...collect as much...information-on-the-early 21st century culture so that the Federation can...keep the universal time-lines intact.
The second and equally important purpose is to elevate the game of men's tennis which has become...boring...and...dull!
Spock:  Captain, upon researching the earth history data-banks, I have found that the 1981 spy drone has slipped in its performance while the 1956 model has made a series of public re-appearances to observe the 1981 model.
While the 1956 model seems supportive of its younger sibling it has come out and consistently predicted against the 1981's success on numerous occasions.  Quite curious these human made drones.
Dr. McCoy:  They are drones for God's sake.  Only thing worse than that would be a Vulcan convention on the protocols of logic!
Spock: To be politically correct, Doctor, I find your humor to be mentally-challenged.
Dr. McCoy: Why you green-blooded Vulcan...
Captain Kirk: Gentlemen, we...cannot spend this episode fighting...we've....got work to do.  Since the...Enterprise is in no immediate danger - Bones, Spock, Mr. Chekhov and two of the red uniform guys that will die - you're all with me to beam down.
Scotty!
Mr. Scott:  Aye, Captain
Captain Kirk:  I need you here on the Enterprise in case we...have to blow something up!  Gentlemen, transporter room please.  Mr. Scott, beam us down to the Sony Ericsson Open, April 2009 and...hurry!
Mr. Scott: Aye, Sir
The landing party beams down to the lounge area of the men's locker room.  All the tennis players are glued to the high-placed large tv set. 
Roger Federer is battling Novak Djokovic for a berth in the finals against Andy Murray. As the crew watches along with everyone, they see Federer break his racket.  Everyone reacts stunned.
Captain Kirk:  Spock, we need...to get to him...somehow!
Spock:  Captain, I believe we are in a prestigious place called the men's locker room.  I believe he will come to us.
Federer loses the match and leaves the court coming into the locker-room.  Kirk motions Spock around the other side and approaches Federer himself.
Captain Kirk:  Mr. Federer, I am.........
Roger Federer (can't wait for the pause):  Look, I don't have time for an interview much less a reporter who cannot finish his sentences and I am really not in the mood.
Captain Kirk: Is that Nadal over there?
Roger Federer (turns around): Where?
BA-NAAA!  Spock vulcan-pinches Roger Federer who slinks to the ground.  They drag him to a small private room where they work on him. 
Spock opens up the back of his head which lights up like an night-time airstrip.  Spock puts in a new vitalized computer chip and closes up the back of Federer's head. 
Captain Kirk flicks open his communicator.
Captain Kirk: Scotty, beam us to Stockholm, Sweden and...hurry!
The crew beam to a small downtown club where Bjorn Borg is talking to a few reporters.  Borg sees the crew appearing and immediately runs off.  Captain Kirk and his landing party chase after him. 
Captain Kirk:  After him, he is getting away!
They pursue Borg down to the Swedish subway.  Borg tries to jump on a moving train and misses, landing on the tracks and receives 50,000 volts of energy. 
The two red uniforms being the first to arrive, are about to phaser Borg when he zaps them killing them instantly.  Borg goes back on the track to zap more energy from the system. 
He zaps a hole in the wall and rides his own electrical current discharge right into the open air and out of the area.
Kirk and the crew finally show up and survey the area.  McCoy tends to the two red-uniformed crewmen. 
Dr. McCoy:  They're dead, Jim.
Spock stares at the subway wall.  Kirk comes to see what Spock is looking at.
Spock: Fascinating.
Across the wall in black burnt-out letters spelled the ominous sign:
I AM BORG!!
Captain Kirk: Spock, I believe we just witnessed the birth of something...something...Spock: Evil, Captain?
Captain Kirk: Yes, evil and will you quit trying to finish my sentences...I cannot...Spock: Think?
Captain Kirk: ...function!!  Scotty, four to beam up.
Dr. McCoy: I call shotgun!!
Spock: Really, doctor.
The party beams back to the Enterprise.  Later Kirk again concludes his log.
Captain Kirk:  Captain's log stardate 023578 point 2.  We were.....successful in repairing the 1981 spy drone.  It is already responding well.
However, we could not capture the 1956 model and now....it refers to itself...to what we only know now as ...The Borg...
I wonder if it will become another..... challenge for mankind yet to...encounter.   We have searched and searched for it, not finding anything.  I suspect...it is...long...gone.   Oh well...probably it will be...someone else's problem.
Kirk out.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

The Nadals Consult a Medicine Man (Humor)


SATIRE — Tony Nadal was impatient. "Vamos, Rafa! We are going to miss di appointment!" Behind him Rafael Nadal hobbled along grimacing in pain.
Tony Nadal: Now let me do all the talking. I paid a lat of money so we could see dis specialist.
Es name es Doctor Hook! He speak different in English so let me andle dis! Buenos Dias, Doctor Hook!
Dr. Hook: Hey mannnn! How is it hanging? Peace to you and the dude in the bandanna man. Far out, reminds me of my days in Death Valley, Cali-forn-i-a!!
Tony Nadal: Hola, Doctor. We came to see jou bout my nephew's knis.
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, right on. Hey man, I saw you on the tv, man. You lost in that tennis match against that army brush-cut guy. That totally sucked, man.
Tony Nadal: Jes, tankyu...we need to get heem back in form for da Wimbledon tennis in da two week.
Dr. Hook: Right on, man. The GRASS tournament. I love GRASS, man. I love layin in it, playin in it, and smokin it. Grass heaven, man!
Tony Nadal: Jou say jou can do sometheeng for heem!
Dr. Hook: Oh yeah, man. I consulted my doobie Mr. Peyote and wow, I got a real vision about how to help your man be the man, man.
Tony Nadal: Ok, so whad do we nid to do?
Dr. Hook: You godda trust me, man. I got something for your blood man, but he needs to trust me and believe me, your boy will be king. Do you trust me, man?
Tony consults his nephew. They go back and forth. Finally, Tony comes back to the Doctor.
Tony Nadal: Ok, we trus you. Tell us what we do now.
Dr. Hook: Get your boy up here on the table.
Nadal sits up on the table. Dr. Hook looks at his upper body.
Dr. Hook: Awesome abs, man. I would kill for this body when the surf's up.
Rafael Nadal: Que? (He looks at his Uncle Tony who shrugs it off)
Dr. Hook: Ok here's the deal, man. He has got excellent upper body strength and that is important. I have got a special tool for his knees, man.
I am glad I have your trust because I don't normally do this. I need to ask you a few question first.
Tony Nadal: Chure!
Dr. Hook: Okay, man. First, I can make it so that he will compete and probably win the French Open for the next ten years.
All his present competitors will not be able to compete with him. His knees will no longer be an issue.
Tony Nadal: Jes, Jes, Jes!!! Dis is what we want.
Both Nadals are excited. Dr. Hook gets out a huge heavy hammer.
Dr. Hook: This is gonna hurt, but I have to hit the specific part of the knee so it is important that your boy does not move too much.
Tony Nadal explains it to his nephew who closes his eyes and braces for the pain. Half an hour later, Rafa is still in agony with his knees.
Dr. Hook comes out with a large bag full of green substance and a wheelchair.
Dr. Hook: Sit him in the wheelchair and have him smoke this marijuana, man. Don't worry, man—it's legal if you are using it for medication and trust me—he needs it.
Tony Nadal: So tell me Doctor, when hees knis going to get better?
Dr. Hook: Oh, his knees are fu**ed, man. He will never walk again. The great thing is that he can compete in the wheelchair division of all the Grand Slams, man.
His upper body strength and topspin shots will mean he will be a great champion for the next ten years.
Tony Nadal's eyes went livid with rage and he immediately chased the doctor out of the clinic and down the street. Rafa was trying to keep up in his wheelchair.
Tony Nadal: I gonna keel you if I catch you. (Looks behind him) Vamos, Rafa!!!
Dr. Hook: Well, at least this time, it is not the whole village with torches, man. (He sniffs) Grass season is approaching man, and I am getting a whiff of the good stuff due North-east.
Dr. Hook disappears leaving Tony Nadal out of breath with Nadal approaching.
Tony sits on Nadal's lap.
Tony Nadal: Jou training starts right now. Vamos, back to town. Vamos!!!
And so, a new life of tennis domination awaited the number one seed.
The End.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Roger Federer: "Where Is the @#&*$# Cheque?"



SATIRE — After all the media covering the French Open had packed up to leave, Roger Federer was still yet to leave the stadium.
He had fought hard and won the French Open but another matter was still unsettled.  He chased after the small Frenchman who he had shared the podium.
The little man looked over his shoulders and saw a determined Roger Federer chasing after him.
"Oh la-la!" the man yelled before his feet went into action.  He ran around the stadium with Roger in hot pursuit.  They both entered the deserted clay court and the man was gaining speed.
Roger's father tossed him a racket and his wife Mirka threw down a tennis ball.  Federer served a heavy topspin shot that beaned the back of the running man's head.  He went down like a ton of bricks.
Federer was on him and heaved him by his lapels.  "Where is my cheque?  Where is the money?", he asked.
"Je ne sais pas, Monsieur Federer.  I don't have it!"  the man said in a state of panic.  Federer was unconvinced.
"Do you think I was born yesterday.  I have played in many of these slams finals and there is always a presentation of a cheque."  He tightened the lapels, constricting the man's breathing.
"Ok, Ok let me get your cheque.", he said brushing the clay off of his suit.  "You, Swiss really are frugal!"  He searched through his clothes and produced a soggy cheque.  "It is wet from the rain."
Federer examined the cheque.  "This cheque is dated May 10th, 2009 and it is made out to Rafael Nadal!"  He glared down at the short Frenchman.
"Please monsieur, how were we to know that you were going to win?  Nadal always wins this tournament, n'est ce pas?"
Roger Federer scolded him with his racket. "I want that cheque made out and sent to me immediately.  Do you understand?  If I don't get it right away, the French Open will become the Swiss Open."
"Oui Monsieur!" said the man as he started to leave.  Federer was not finished.
"Wait!!", he shouted to the man. "Where is my car?"
The man embarrassingly took the keys out of his pocket.  "Ha-ha, I almost forgot.  Your car is parked in Section D on the north side.  It is a stunning 2009 Peugot."
As the Frenchman made off, Roger's father joined Roger.  "Did you get the money?", He asked.  Roger replied, "No, but he is going to send it to me otherwise we will buy out the French Open and bring it to Switzerland."
Robert Federer patted his son on the back.  "Great job and great day, son!"
Roger laughed.  "Not only that, I have a 2009 Peugot waiting for me at Section D on the north side.", he said flailing the car keys.
His father looked grimaced.  "Son, I know this stadium well.  The north side has no Section D."
Roger looked at the direction in which the Frenchman had gone and immediately bolted his legs into a sprinting action.
"Hey you bl**dy Frenchman!! Get back here!!!!

Monday, May 25, 2009

The Man in Pink (Rafael Nadal Gangsta Rap)


SATIRE — Sung to the melody of "Men In Black" by Will Smith.

Chorus
I am de man in pink (mip, mip ah jes)
Hard not to remember
I am de man in pink
Tank you Roger Federer

Di Spaniard dress in pink
Make jou tink
Jus in case we play and I make jou stink
Di title held by me, mip

Mean jou tink jou win but jou will see
Don blink cos jou will be sent home by me
Dis pink top gonna make jou da real fi-fi
Walk on da dirt, I get much bedder
Give da bagel to Roger Federer

I scratch di bum when I got da itch
Goin to do battle wid da Djokovic
In the end he gonna be my bi***
But jo, I don’t mind to give a wink
Coz, I da man in pink

I am da man in pink
From Augus to September
I am da man in pink
Jou cant control jour member

Aha aha, Jes Jes!!
Now from the deepest part of di clay
Jou tink jou win da point but I say “Ay”
Jou know dat I gonna win
Coz jou cannot return my forehand topspin

Di man in pink
Di man in pink

Let me see jou slide wid me
Slide wid me
Vamos, jus hit wid me
Hit wid me
Now lose!

Ohhhhhhh

Alright Check dis
Let me tell jou in closing
Jou know dat I am imposing
But trus me, when I show jou da door
Mean da French Open trophee was never yours
Coz I get to places jou cannot belief
I return da ball dat jou cannot see

I’m da man in
I’m da man in….

I am da man in pink
Da French Open Defender
I am da man in pink
Hard not to ramember....

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Andy Roddick And The Large Fan


SATIRE — The following is based on a hearsay story that I overheard about two years ago.  Some of it may have likely happened but I embellished the rest:
As Andy Roddick was preparing for his match for the Masters series in Montreal, Canada, a very large middle-aged fan carrying two hot dogs, a large popcorn, a pretzel and an equally huge coke sat down in the stands behind him.
Roddick was warming up with some serve and volleys.  When he heard the huge man bellow out.
"You are not doing it right!  You are going to be wiped out before the first set is over!"
Roddick glanced back and went wide-eyed when he saw the large man couched over two seats, settling in with his portable feast.
Roddick went back to his warm-up and continued to serve into the open court.
"You got to put more spin on your serves! Djokovic is going to eat you for lunch!"
Roddick looked at the ground and slowly turned towards the obnoxious fan.  There was no way he was going to let this one pass.
"Sir, why don't you get yourself another hot dog or five?", he said with a snicker.
The fan burped back.  "I already have three here and I got another one in my back pocket."
"You need to get more spin on your serve, otherwise I won't be able to finish all my food here by the time you lose and while you are at it, stop puffing up your cheeks every time you serve!"
Roddick stared at the fan for a moment that never seemed to end.
"Sir, this is not a kiddie soccer game, you know."
The fan was stuffing his face with a hot dog and a candy bar at the same time.
"Duh, you think?  I got kicked out of my son's game. They pleaded with me and sent me free tickets to see you! It's not about me, it's about you working on properly serving and not screwing up your backhand.
Just then the chair umpire cautioned everyone to be quiet as the match between Roddick and Djokovic was about to start.
Roddick served first and the ralley progressed with Roddick losing the point with a weak shot that went into the net.
Immediately after the point, amidst the polite applause, the large fan bellowed, "GO TO THE NET!! GO TO THE NET!!"
Before Roddick served he looked at the obese fan.
"Sir, I think your cola is running low."  As he approached the base line he heard that fan yell out.
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT...THIS IS A ONE POINT FIVE GALLON CUP....BUURRRRP!!!"
Roddick kept his head down and continued to serve.  He ended being broken on his first service game.
He heard one voice above the polite applause.  "SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME ABOUT YOUR SERVING!!"
Looking up at the stands, Roddick could see the fan had finished with the hot dogs and was working on a paper container of french fries with another large container of popcorn.
"WATCH THE LINE!  HE IS GOING TO SERVE DOWN THE LINE!!!"
Roddick waited for the ball and missed it as it was fired down the line!!
"I TOLD YOU IT WAS COMING DOWN THE LINE, BUT DOES HE LISTEN.....NOOOOOO!"
Roddick went to the other side of the court to get ready for the next serve.
"IT'S GOING TO COME ON THE FAR SIDE."
Roddick went to the far side but the ball still came down the line.  He was nowhere near it as it whizzed by.
During the applause, the annoying voice shrieked...."OOOPS - HAHAHAA"   Roddick soon was trailing the match.
Before Roddick changed ends, he spoke with the chair ump.
"Can't you do anything about that di** in the stands?" He asked.
The chair ump said that he was not speaking during the moments of play but could only ask for calm before the points. Roddick switched ends and could now see the large man continue to eat fries and to throw popcorn in the air that would fall into his large awaiting mouth.
Roddick could not concentrate and threw the tennis ball up in the air and thundered it with his racket.
The ball sailed over the net. It sailed high past the boxed line, sailing far above Djokovic's head who immediately turned to follow the rising ball.
Picking up speed the ball sailed right into the direction of the large fan.  It impacted right at the point of the fan's large popcorn box, causing a huge explosion of popcorn. 
His immediate neighbors were rained on with a fourth of July works of hot buttered popcorn.
The fan's reaction was immediate.  "YOU OWE ME $6.50 FOR THAT POPCORN AND NOW I HAVE POPCORN IN MY FRIES, COKE AND CANDY FLOSS!!  BETTER MAKE THAT $30!"
Just then security showed up.  Two men asked the fan to leave but he was suctioned into his two-seat space.
A team of ten security members had to pull him out as he kept yelling last-minute instructions to Roddick.  Just before exiting, he was still going at it.
"YOU'RE GOING TO MISS ME ANDY.  YOU NEED ME!!  BY THE WAY, TAKE THE G** DAMN HAT OFF, IT'S CLOUDY!
He disappeared with security all of them slipping on the grease that his incoming food had caused.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Anusol Seeks Rafael Nadal For Lucrative Deal (Humor)


SATIRE — A company spokesman for the product Anusol has confirmed that it is seeking a major deal to become one of Rafael Nadal's chief sponsors.
"He's been holding out on us for a long time but we are going to get him in the end.", the spokesman said.
When asked about it, Nadal was unusually blunt.  "Well, dey wan to put a face on my famos ass.  I want to be famos but not for my famos ass. To me, it is important dat dis company can see me as more dan nomber 1 but also nomber 2."
"I was de nomber two for long time but now I number one so maybe I no need da product, no? "
When asked why Anusol was pursuing Nadal for product endorsement, the spokesman replied, "When you see Rafa grimacing after a shot, or deeply disappointed after losing a point, his facial features embodies the type of person who really, really needs our product." 
"Plus the fact that he is a great athlete and never gives up.  He fights every point like it is match point.  His tenacity and determined doggedness are unmatched by any of his peers on the tennis circuit."
The spokesman paused for a minute, pondering.  "Oh yeah, he also picks his ass."

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Roger Federer-Rafael Nadal Lockeroom Chat


SATIRE — Somewhere between matches in a certain tournament, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal may have had this verbal exchange:
Nadal: Hola Rog!
Federer: Hi Rafa.
Nadal: Jou feeling better dese days?
Federer: I am fine. Why?
Nadal: De last I see jou, jou cry like a bambino, no?
Federer: Uh, you are speaking about the Australian Open.
Nadal: Jes, de tournament dat I wun and dat jou rained on.
Federer: Listen here you little rump-scratcher.
Nadal: Rum-scratcher?(Looks around) Puede cualquier persona traducir? Sorry Rog. I hef no idea what dat is. So, you tink you gonna whip my famous ass in de finals?
Federer: You know it.
Nadal: Just in case I win, I bring you someteeng.
Federer: What?
Nadal: A box of teasuse.
Federer: Very funny and I will bring you something.
Nadal: Que?
Federer: Your uncle Tony's underwear so you can have a better fit.
Nadal: Jes, Mirka gonna love dat.
Federer: You bastard! And in case you don't know that English word, "hibrido!"  I looked that up. You have me soooo angry. I am going to take you to five sets at the French Open!
Nadal: Oh Roger, jou got sense of umor when jou mad.
Federer: I am not mad.
Nadal: Jes, you har
Federer: No, I am not.
Nadal: Jes.
Federer: Alright I am mad.
Nadal: See, I win again. Roger, no cry heh?
Federer: That's it. I will see you in the tiebreak of the fifth set of the French and you better hope my first serve breaks down like it did in the Australian Open.
Nadal: Fine with me but jou know what I always say at end of da French Open.
Federer: What?
Nadal: Tankyuverymuch.
Federer: Yes I have to admit that your speeches say it all.
Nadal: No. My playing say it all!
Federer: Oh, join a toastmasters club already!
Nadal: Tankyuverymuch. I say dat when I hef no more English.
Federer: Whatever.
Nadal: Tankyuverymuch!
Federer: Shut up already!
Nadal: Rog, jou know I tank los of people for my six grandslam; my uncle Tony, my family, but I forget one person to tank.
Federer: Who is that?
Nadal: Jou, Roger!
Federer: Me? Well, um, that is nice.
Nadal: Jes, jou da bes player in heestory. Let me win all six, haha.
Federer: God, this is killing me!
Nadal: Tankyouverrymuch!
Federer: Okay I am out of here.
Nadal: Tankyouverymuch!
(Federer leaves while Nadal keeps saying "Tankyouverymuch" to himself alone in the locker room.)