This past weekend we had our first US Open experience.
After living in New York for the past three years, we finally decide to give this tennis event a chance, or at least, I decided, since my husband has always been wiling.
Arriving was easy, but the “VIP” parking was two kilometres away and we had to walk a lot to get to the stadium. By the time we arrived my feet were a sweaty mess and I was eager to be seated, even if it meant to endure five hours of non-stop tennis.
The crowd at the Open was a pastiche of people: different smells (mostly sweat), different nationalities (mostly Americans), different styles (mostly non-fashion) and different characters (mostly fans).
We went to see Djokovic vs. Davydenko, the number one player versus the thirty-nine ranked player in the world (not rocket science to figure out the winner of that one); but we first had to endure the Women’s single match. You don’t know the players (neither did I) so no need to summarize that one.
After the Women's match, came the match between David versus Goliath, and of course, Goliath beat the crap out of poor little Davy.
During the game, at the end of each set, the crowd would make games, coordinate waves; we even had a dirty dance session by a crazy guy who danced his belly off along a rap song while the complete stadium did a standing ovation for his performance. He slightly looked like Conan (not the barbarian, the red headed one) and the crowd loved every piece of it.
After my dear pal Djoki won the match against Davy, he even joined the fun and performed an awkward ‘serpent’ dance that confirmed to all of us that he just plays tennis.
Doing everything else with his body will be borderline impossible since he has zero style.
Dear Djoki: keep up with racket swinging and leave dancing to the experts please.
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