Balls Fly at My Nose: Tennis Movies and the Sport that Inspires Them

Oh man, there are so many jokes to be made about hitting balls! So maybe I don't know from tennis. Chris Onstad knows more about tennis than I do. Devin knows more about tennis than I do, but I have one advantage over him right now: I have now seen the movie Wimbledon.

My roommate came out the other day when I was watching the rerun of the Wimbledon finals on ESPN Instant Classic and told me I should watch the movie Wimbledon. Something inside me-- and my present state of unemployment-- told me that she was right.

Wimbledon.
Dude: Some attractive blonde guy who attempts character development.
Blonde bombshell: Kirsten Dunst.
Favorite line: "In tennis, love means nothing."
Basically, they play tennis and fall in love and it's not very good, as can be expected. There are a lot of weird, unnecessary visual effects to enhance the fact that you are not actually watching tennis, and also Sam Neill (god I wish there were a T. Rex in this movie!) plays Kirsten Dunst's daddy and there's a plot with that. I mean, not much else to say. Why did they finance this movie? It could have used a few more jokes, but I guess Kirsten Dunst isn't ever funny, really.

Much like Center Stage appealed to us non-dance enthusiasts, perhaps Wimbledon turned people like my roommate on to tennis. Of course, right before she suggested this movie, she asked me if I was watching golf. Maybe not.

Another tennis movie: Match Point.
Dude: Jonathan Rhys Meyers, who never attempts character development.
Blonde bombshell: Scarlett Johansson.
Favorite line: "Has anyone ever told you you play a very agressive game?"
This movie pretends that it is about tennis, but really it's about attractive people having sex. Wimbledon could have used more actual shirt-ripping or sexy talk, which would make me like it more. Still, I always preface any talk of Match Point with, "It's really not a very good movie. I don't know why I like it. I think I like it because the first time I saw it Devin and I were really drunk. I dunno, it's pretty great though." Maybe more tennis would have made this movie better? Scarlett Johansson doesn't even play in this one; she's just really attractive (she plays in In Good Company, which maybe is more about tennis than Match Point but doesn't have anything about tennis in the movie's title). The decided lack of tennis on Scarlett Johansson's part may have detracted from the movie's overall glamour, as everyone looks cute in tennis clothes.

Most days, I'm not entirely sure why Woody Allen made Match Point, but part of me is glad he did. It elaborates rather unnecessarily the reasons why writers, artists, filmmakers, and the like cling onto tennis more than most other sports: its high-class airs, the fierce one-on-one competition, the grace and artistry of the players' bodies, and the sexy people.

Wimbledon.
Dude: Roger Federer! and some other guys.
Blonde bombshell: Maria Sharapova, I guess.
Favorite line: Holy shit! Why don't I marry a tennis pro?
Oh man. I love watching tennis. I really only watched the men's championship, but you can be damn sure I'm watching the US Open this year. It's exciting and graceful and makes me feel classy. I'm drinking champagne and watching the US Open. When I'm good and drunk, I'll probably put on Match Point when the finals are over and fall asleep. Please God I want to meet a tennis pro. Lord, they are sexy. Where can I do that? I don't care if Federer's going to win everything for the next eight years, I'll take one of the others. Even if I don't wind up marrying a tennis pro, maybe I can have an affair with one in middle age.

Tennis: nothing sexier. That is the conclusion.

Cocktail of the Week: The Negroni

Oh man, here is the first thing I like! After first discovering the ol' G&T and floating a couple years on the classic Martini, I have a new favorite cocktail. I have not strayed from gin, the king of all liquors. I find in gin drinkers a distinction and willingness to become belligerent unmatched amongst those who prefer other liquors, save for the drinkers of maybe a nice scotch.

Anyway, I ordered a Negroni, knowing it involved Campari, about a month ago when I was in Pittsburgh. I was already drunk, and I was trying to impress people I didn't know. When they asked what was in it, I said, "I dunno. Campari and something else." It was an impressive moment.

It was also one of the greater moments for my tongue. Here was a drink what was pink and still felt like it could put hair on my chest. It tasted like Campari but not really. And when I looked it up on Wikipedia the next day, it said there was gin in it. I was saved! I had found the ultimate androgynous, classy, complicated, potent beverage!

A Negroni is one part gin, one part Campari, and one part sweet vermouth. It is not an old man drink, like most drinks involving Campari. Also, Wikipedia says that its name is not racist, but Italian-- a drink of many subtleties, the Negroni.

In a variation, I had a Negroni topped with Prosecco at a local restaurant the other day. This combined my favorite sparkling white wine with my favorite cocktail. It won for the moment, as I was craving something sweet, although I wouldn't go for it all the time.

So it's my new pretty great thing that I order when I only want one drink. The Negroni is the cocktail of champions and of me.