FedEx to Hamburg

Roger Federer is back to grace the courts. And that's exactly how he plays. Poetry in motion was catch-phrased to personify him in his element. Roger completes the trinity of terror in my world of tennis players to hoot for. His looks sure din't strike any chords, but when you see him execute shot after unbelievable shot, he suddenly radiates a halo that can't be shaken off with his goofy grin.

On a downside, the bouncing orange ball of energy actually had reached its limits of Energizer Bunny relentlessness. He's probably gonna save himself for the French Open. The gruesome cut on his hand couldn't have helped either. This reminds me of 'The Long Walk' by Stephen King, which remains to be the most read-again book I own. The contestants of this race were supposed to walk, and walk. And walk on. Just outwalk the others. There could be only one winner, while the rest are 'ticketed out'. One of them was well-built, rippling muscles and all, but he was booted off because of blisters. After all that preparation, it was his socks that let him down.

Let's hope that Rafa find some way to thicken that skin on his palm.