After the wreckage that has defined 2011 so far, I really, really, really hope he ends this season on a high again and wins the title tomorrow. He hasn't lost a match since that disastrous US Open semi-final against Novak Djokovic which literally left me in tears. His form has been pretty up and down, but he's managed to get the job done so far - all he needs to do is to concentrate for two hours on beating the guy at the opposite side of the court and win the tournament tomorrow.
Of course, I wouldn't make the mistake of projecting his year-end momentum onto any sort of Grand Slam success for the 2012 season; but after watching so many heartbreaking losses in this year, I would really, really, really love to watch him win the final tournament of the year and just end it on a high, on a positive note, and send a strong signal to his rivals by telling them that he's so far from being done. It would be great for him. More importantly, I would be fucking ecstatic.
He didn't play that well in this match against Ferrer. If it weren't for his flawless serving, he would have been in a lot more trouble than he was. His backhand was uh, how shall I put it politely...not really there this match. His forehand was spraying errors everywhere for a good portion of the first set. Thank goodness for his serve and netplay; thank goodness, too, for Ferrer's subpar serving. Ferrer was getting everything back like a mad man and Roger couldn't finish many of the points that he carefully constructed; but Ferrer's serving was terrible and Roger managed to take advantage.
Obviously, he's gonna need to play like he did against Nadal to win against Berdych or Tsonga. It's never a good sign when he wins less baseline points than his opponent. But I'm sure he knows what he needs to do and I'm sure he'll find a way to do it.
That said, DAMMIT ROGER GO AND PRACTISE YOUR BLOODY BACKHAND OK THANKS.
Wei Chuen and I had lunch today as I didn't play tennis in the morning and he had some work meeting in the evening. After throwing a hissy fit over our collective inability to call for a cab, my mom gave me the car and I drove us to Holland Village where we had lunch at Crystal Jade. I wanted to go to Imperial Treasure at first; I'm quite in love with that place after a division lunch there on Thursday as the food is quite sublime, to say the least. But since I was driving, I refused to drive to Orchard and I didn't know how to drive to Great World City, and he said that it would be hard to get a table. Hence, we went to Crystal Jade.
Actually, there isn't a point to the introductory comments in the preceding paragraph; I have nothing much to say about the food except that we ordered too much and my fresh scallop congee was good. What I want to say is that I felt really happy today with him. I don't know what it was, but I felt happy in a way that I hadn't felt in recent weeks. It's perhaps more accurate to say that I was happy in a way that my damn PMS prevented me from feeling. Whatever it is, I was brimming with love and contentment throughout lunch, and later again at Ya Kun where I had coffee.
It started pouring when we got up to leave. I brought my umbrella out of the car even though there was only a very slight drizzle when we arrived; I didn't want to get my freshly-washed hair wet so I insisted on the umbrella. Good move by me, because it was really, really pouring. We huddled next to each other under the girly pink umbrella that he held, my arm around his waist, his arm around my shoulder. We were both getting rather wet. I said to him, "This is quite romantic right?!"
Actually, it wasn't romantic at all. There's nothing romantic about getting wet from the rain, about your shoes and your jeans getting wet from the puddles on the road. But I was still kind of happy to go through the hassle of getting wet from the rain because it was nice to feel him hold me so closely to him.
Needless to say, though, I took a jab at him for his height when I was getting a bit tired from hunching to fit myself into his arm and told him, "This is kind of nice, but you're a bit short."
I still love him though! Duh.
Another reason I love him: he drove from Bukit Timah to Marina Square yesterday evening to spend time with me after my tennis training. He sat through a 2-hour traffic jam and didn't get pissed beyond reason the way that I would've if it had been me.
I'm gonna sleep soon. I have half a mind to wake up at 4 a.m. to watch the second semi-final between Berdshit and Clownga which should be more competitive than the Roger/Ferrer match, so I suppose I better sleep soon.
I've been super sleepy and lackadaisical at work the whole week. Perhaps that partly had to do with my sleeping late (i.e. later than 12.30 - yeah, it's damn sad I know) because of the tennis-watching, but I just couldn't motivate myself to do anything at work. Sigh. Well, hopefully Roger wins the title and I'm vicariously rejuvenated enough by his win to motivate myself at work.
Lastly, I bought new tennis shoes!
I went to Marina Bay Sands during lunch one day (Wednesday I believe) to get this. MBS pissed the living shit out of me and I vowed to never go back unless I was forced to.
Well, thank you Retarded Self, for not buying UK 6.5 because I think UK 7 is too big. Dammit. I asked the sales guy whether this version of the Barricades 6 is exactly the same as the other versions in terms of technology and fit, and he said yes. Since I'm wearing UK 7, I thought I'd stick to the same size and just wear 2 pairs of socks.
I tried it on with two pairs of socks and it felt a bit too big. Fuck, I think I really have to go back to that hateful pretentious sell-out scourge of the nation place to exchange the size.
Ughhhhh. On the bright side, the shoes are gorgeous. Gor. Geous. However, I'm quite bummed that the new Barricades 7 are quite ugly. Adidas' Spring/Summer 2012 outfits are fucking ugly too. Thanks for helping me save money I guess.