Friday, December 30, 2011

The GOAT herder Syndrome

The GOAT herder Syndrome

I am not trying to answer who is GOAT or who isn`t. (Last time I checked the four legged creature identified me and vice-versa, and to be honest beats me this moniker of GOAT, couldn`t we could have had a more cool BOA (best of all), at least the snake kills the goat and doesn`t eat  grass!)Neither I`ll be predicting the rise of the monster or the fall of the rooster from the birch top. No soothsayings,no swansongs or tale of a rising not-so-red phoenix(read Murray!!).No!No,not at all.
What these points to ponder do when they play tennis between your logic and fantasy while you’re already addled brain playing the immovable and all absorbing net in between? They play with your balls!!Well they lob your thoughts, slice your feelings and moon ball your patience. So no nothings of this sort for me. No praise for federer,no hatemails for djoker,no apparel etiquette tips for nadal(I won`t butt in, I promise!),no fairytale promises to the British tennis fans either.(they also sense they need someone else!)
So what we are talking about here? The thing is-I have just started to learn tennis. Lawn tennis to be precise in vocabulary and cement-backyard-uneven bounce- tennis to be accurate in description. Don`t be fooled though, I am not one of those who doesn`t know who lleyton hewitt was {is? was? does it matter?}or one of those who believe there are only four tournaments in a year,because thats what their cable operator tells them. Serious as I am about tennis, I happen to have a keen eye for the sport and of course women`s tennis. As I was saying about me learning to put the ball in the right place rather than hit out of the ground, I suddenly have grew wary of critics and naysayers. Even to the extent this fear of opinionated men (women included, I am not a sexist!) has grown inside me recently that I watch the matches in mute.(My apologies to sharapova,nadal,and djokovic for not heeding to their calls or yells or grunts..!)
Expert or no expert, I believe I have a flair for the game. My flair list includes an expensive pair of shoes, officious looking wristwatch & athletic wristbands and headbands. Well racquets and balls are provided for by the academy where I go to play, so yes I am in gear.
To me the trivial matter of landing the ball in the other court isn`t as big as being able to say “the ball is in my court now”. So mostly you see I am at a receiving end. And I am loving it.Federer it seems can wait for his 17th, I can`t wait for even the morning. (afternoon`s too arduous to play, no?)Of course seeing my dedication you might have guesses my bright future. I keep telling my hitting partners (no double entrendes here!!) to avoid gloating about my obvious talents but puff!! you know how these hero-worshippers are. A topic of excited gossip and a style to copy, now that`s what I am being reduced to in the tennis circles.
                   Without sounding overtly narcissistic or resisting the urge to showcase the ever so mild shenanigan, I must confess that I could no longer keep the secret forever-Roger Federer copied and continues to copy me(Sorry roger!! check your inbox, might have an apology mail there for disclosing this.).Couldn`t hide it any longer you see, the kids had started asking nasty questions, those little buggers.I mean let`s confess this once in for all, how come someone just burst on the scene with all the shots in the book ( I forgot to teach him the high backhand of a spinning ball, took him years!).I roamed in the wilderness while he bossed the game as if the righteous owner of the prairie has arrived.Well,bah! I don`t even want the adulation, I am contend enough knowing that the protégé is doing well, not perched at top exactly but hey I mean does it really matter, now look at me, I might condescend to accept my greatness, but beneath me that, beneath me! As they say" We didn`t start the fire, I did."
                         Hmmm,sorry I didn`t get the joke,oh uh djok is it? that’s the new spelling. So what would you call yourself then? Oh Djoker is it? Did you had your supper?Oh Glutton free, my my, I am impressed. Original idea perhaps? Let me see, you aren`t from Serbia? No? You are not in the business of impressionism? No? Good good!! No let me see...Nolet me see....No-le tme see...No-le...Oh...Nole!!!
A 70-6 record? 3 grand slams? 5 masters? 12 mn$ prize money? No 1? Not impressed???
Look at my record...
A perfect record of 200-0, 4 grand slams, 9 masters, 3 local prize money...I don`t need a number with me....
Of course broadcasters haven`t really started paying those who watch. But I am hopeful to be the forerunner. And 12  mn$ a year and glutton free?? Are you kidding me? (Sheepishly sniggering!!), give me a million and I can donate the entire glutton the world needs.
In hindsight 2011 was indeed a bad year for me. Not that I am fed-up fan of Nadal and almost cried with him at the flushing meadows, (6 in a row in a year? ouch!!)But just because my racquet caught rust and fungus too often.Ah! the perils of over exerting your talents and apparatus.Ofcourse I never lost my passion for the game. I got my bagels, my sticks, I turn on the TV set or youtube.Being on the same page as your coach surely helps. I was on page 24 and so was he. Sports section!!And talking of reading and understanding, I now seriously wish I knew more of Spanish.
Vamos!! I first thought was an expression for exaltation. But anxiety, defeat and fear now need not go elsewhere for expression. But of course it means “come on”. Let’s have a look...

Exaltation--Comme onnn...!!!! Vaamos!!!
Fear--Oh no! Come on now.. vamos?
Anxiety--come on! its over!!...vammos....

But that was last year. When nadal won some matches. This year, he chatted more,vamosed less,and won even lesser. Notwithstanding the greatest clay court player tag, he jumped too high in aus & was ferreted in, brought a depleted garrison yet won over Roland garros,ate too many berries in london,and grimaced in new york.The world tour finals in London a burden on his tired frame,Nadal better be joking, or Djoking or choking?
On a tangential note, (I just remembered it!!)Since the time I`ve started writing this Nadal would have served twice,federer 12 times,and novak would still be counting his ball bounces(Oh no! I missed it!! All the way to the lucky no again!)& Murray would have developed another niggle. Watching Federer play not only reminds me of a certain myself but also someone who has found a new set of teeth.(Where are they?Oh they are there! Now I can chew!! (honey, bring the bacon now, please,will you..)
Federer has long since transformed himself from a potent tiger(glutton free anyone?) to a burly elephant with huge tusks(16 inches and not growing!) but eats with wizened molars inside.Wins,wins,wins and then gets bored of it,(let’s play with them for sometime) oh no! I Lost!!!
Someone is too relaxed(Federer),someone is too glutton free to keep losing(djoker),someone is too lost to control passion(Nadal),and someone is too out of contention to talk about(Murray).All others(Tsonga,Berdych) are too forgotten to not to mention.Atleast the future of tennis is in safe hands.
(it’s too late, not going today to play...)

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

A Worm Inside....

A Worm Inside....

Stomach squirms at the sight,
Smell splits sides all tight,
I crave for that foody ride,
Afterall,there`s a worm inside!

The itch of reading now not bearable,
Thought patience is there in every parable,
I chose to turn the page side,
definitely,a worm inside!!

Wasting time joyfully always,
Not heeding to what the wise`o`old says,
I loiter the seconds far and wide,
Not my mistake,look!a worm inside.

Teasing,cajoling those around,
'Fun & me',doesn`t that makes a healthy sound,
I cry alone though,my guilt by my side,
Cribbing nigh and night,blame the worm inside.

Praying,keeping faith in lord,
My principles don`t die by the sword,
Rules of the heaven I keep & abide,
In this to hell with the worm inside.

Random Musings...