marry me, Roberta!
Some people lose beautifully.
I was watching a little bit of The U.S Open last night. You know - watching for short skirts and hoping for low camera angles - when lo and behold I'm introduced to this wonderful woman from Italy, Roberta Vinci!
Some elegant, perspiration-free, Lady In Red was pummeling her in a quick 50 minute walk in the park, 6-0,6-1, but it was Ms. Vinci, drenched and breathtakingly scurrying after balls, that I fell in love with.
Why you ask?
Because she was smiling.
Ranked 51st in the world, like a State in the union nobody would want to visit, she really never had a chance. The airplane she arrived on most likely left its engines idling, and she probably never unpacked her toothbrush at the hotel. But when late in the match she won her lone game she whirled on her heal, pumped her fist for the appreciative crowd, and smiled bright enough to illuminate the New York skyline.
Who says winning is everything?
Just a moment of grace is the secret ingredient of life.
Oh, Roberta, voi perdente bello!
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2 Comments:
Well, how old is she anyway?
Burkean Reflections
She's 24, and five foot four, Mr. Douglas(in my wobbly Mr. Haney voice). :)
No word yet if she's already married or has a mean backhand. ;)
~phil
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