August twelfth, '09 was a beautiful, sunny Wednesday morning in Canada. Because I worked at the Rogers Cup, I got admission to the grounds and had specifically asked for the day off so I could go check out all the players' practices. It was undeniably a rich draw with the finest ten in action during the day.
At eleven that day, a pal and I headed over toward Court four where the world's top ranked player, Roger Federer, was expected to arrive at within a half hour. Already filled with roughly a few hundred people, there was very little room to move.
As the time neared, the court was packed with fans who eagerly waited to catch a glimpse of the Swiss Maestro. With the sun scorching at 95 levels fahrenheit, we watched him loosen up and start hitting balls. To be frank, it was pretty boring and was scheduled to last two hours.
So, slowly, we squeeze outside the crowd and come to an open space. I look up at Court 4 on the far side to see a tall, lanky player dressed in a pink Nike T-shirt and white shorts hitting a few balls. I look closer and in fact came to see it was Juan Martin Del Potro.
As he arrived at the exit gate, there were six fans waiting for him to have his signature and he did sign. As he signed my picture and proceeded to my pal, I said "I wish you the best of luck in your competition today."
He turned to me and had a large grin on his face and insisted "Thank you so much for your support." He seemed to be really happy with what I had said to him.
As he won yesterday, the irony of this scenario just entered my thoughts. The fact that essentially no one was at hand to root for him and Federer had a ton of fans. Every now and then, it's better to be left alone than to be relentlessly followed.
Del Potro played a wonderful game this week and is entirely worthy of his grand slam win. Vamos!
At eleven that day, a pal and I headed over toward Court four where the world's top ranked player, Roger Federer, was expected to arrive at within a half hour. Already filled with roughly a few hundred people, there was very little room to move.
As the time neared, the court was packed with fans who eagerly waited to catch a glimpse of the Swiss Maestro. With the sun scorching at 95 levels fahrenheit, we watched him loosen up and start hitting balls. To be frank, it was pretty boring and was scheduled to last two hours.
So, slowly, we squeeze outside the crowd and come to an open space. I look up at Court 4 on the far side to see a tall, lanky player dressed in a pink Nike T-shirt and white shorts hitting a few balls. I look closer and in fact came to see it was Juan Martin Del Potro.
As he arrived at the exit gate, there were six fans waiting for him to have his signature and he did sign. As he signed my picture and proceeded to my pal, I said "I wish you the best of luck in your competition today."
He turned to me and had a large grin on his face and insisted "Thank you so much for your support." He seemed to be really happy with what I had said to him.
As he won yesterday, the irony of this scenario just entered my thoughts. The fact that essentially no one was at hand to root for him and Federer had a ton of fans. Every now and then, it's better to be left alone than to be relentlessly followed.
Del Potro played a wonderful game this week and is entirely worthy of his grand slam win. Vamos!
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