He grew up with Nato bombs raining down on him. Unlike most tennis players, Djokovic has a genuinely interesting story to tell. He was always at his best when the crowd was blatantly against him, when the animal within was unleashed. They’d turn to their partner and make a face. But there was a sullen resentment at Djokovic matches. They were never really openly hostile – tennis crowds are generally too polite and puckered up for that. But the harder he tried to draw them in, the more they pulled away.Īustralian crowds sensed his siege mentality, his aching need. In 2012, he prevailed in one of the most extraordinary sporting contests ever seen in this country. He tried to play the court jester, and tennis crowds cringed. Roger and Rafa were unimpeachable, and tough acts to follow. Australia’s prissy tennis crowds and press have never warmed to him. He contested his deportation as if it were a crucial break point, as if it were his last stand against total oblivion”.ĭjokovic was on a hiding to nothing though. Novak treated the saga, Jonathan Liew wrote on these pages, “with an unshakeable and messianic belief in his own supremacy. There was a lot of contorting, a lot of yelling, a reset. It was like watching one of Djokovic’s five setters – not exactly pleasant viewing, but you couldn’t look away. The prime minister, always energised on border control matters, played the hard man. They pondered which actor would play him in a mini-series. The local newspapers published columns by comedians, immigration lawyers and experts on Serbian nationalism. The live stream of his visa appeal was bedevilled by lengthy dropouts, porn and spamming. His supporters were camped outside his quarantine hotel, singing Balkan folk songs. Djokovic’s mug led the news for more than a week.

Djokovic’s call for preferential treatment fell on deaf ears.īut he really pushed his luck this January. Some of his more lowly-ranked brethren were holed up in hotels whacking forehands against fridges, trapping rodents and going nuts. A year earlier, he’d penned an open letter to the people of Australia, which ought to have been grounds for a 14-day quarantine in itself. Continued healing for Big Blue’s ribs and his M’s heart troubles and YHC’s dad with his cancer battle.Djokovic had history. Hokie Pokie’s 2.0 as he gets his leg fixed up in a couple of weeks and the healing and recovery throughout the spring.Looking for suggestions on a May challenge.May 15: the next Can-Can beatdown and in June: working the Afton Community Garden May 1st: CCM I Love My City clean-up at My Father’s House.Freddie Mercs x15, Hello Dollies x15, Low Flutters x15 and some Homer to Marge.We picked up our new wooden toy and did another Indian run to store the log, which hopefully will become a staple of our coupons (note, it’s stored in the holly bushes along side the dumpster’s concrete walls. One pax completed the rep counts, while the other lapped the courts until the number reps were achieved: Merkins x100, LBCs x200, Squats x300. Next round, we partnered up for a round of Doras. Round 5: another round of Build-a-Burpee suicides with x10 count reps.Round 4: Build-a-Burpee suicides to the edge of each court to construct a burpee, merkins x5, leg thrusters x5 and jump squats x5.Round 3: Bear Crawl suicides to the white lines in the first court and to the middle of the second.

Round 2: Webbicides, suicides with a merkin on each blue line.

Round 1: The classic suicide to the side line of each court.

The pax lined up along the edge of the lines to begin: Guinness called out the first penalty of burpees and Opie called out the second penalty of lunges.

It took us three times to get it right.

If the pax all hit 21 at the same time, we moved along, but if we didn’t, a penalty was called out by a pax and we started over. The 1 to 5 counts were out loud in cadence, while reps 6-21 were in silent. In we went and lined up along the wall for several activities: YHC did a quick inspection to make sure nothing would be crawling over us as we began an Indian run partner carry along the paths and around the tennis courts. YHC remembered something from a previous beatdown and strolled over to the edge of the trees, looked around and there it was, a nice six-foot long, remnant of a tree.

SSHs x25, Hillbillies x20, Toy Soldiers x15, Penny Pickers x10, Windmills x5.

We crossed the bridge to the small corner for our warm-o-rama. A kinda sorta disclaimer was given and we were off for a mosey down the path towards the back of the park. The eight men set off for the beatdown, while three others where hitting the streets. The sun is up and a cool but comfy morning awaited the pax.

The court jester tennis