Sharapova (or the handlers for both) did some research: For the host's birthday last Friday, and knowing that she just started playing tennis, Maria bestowed a Head racquet bag full of goodies on Chelsea. The spoils included a Nike dress, shoes, and visor; her top-selling Cole Haan ballerina flats; and Sugarpova gummi-bearsgalore, which Handler inhaled for the rest of their banter.
Personal highlights and interesting morsels:
CH: I didn't know you were Russian until, like, a couple days ago.
CH: You have a reputation for being kind of a b----, don't you? Are you? Do you not hang out with the other tennis girls?
MS: Um, I'm not exactly giving them fives in the shower. That's not my thing. I get out of the locker room as fast as I can.
CH: You're not big-boned, but you're tall. ... Well, maybe a little big-boned ...
MS: Well, there's a lot of bones when you're like, 6-foot-1, 6-foot-2 ...
CH: How tall is your fiancé?
MS: He's about ... 6-foot-7. [audience gasps]
CH: So he's black?
MS: Not that I know of but ...
CH: Oh, believe me. You would know.
And, oh dear, I think Sharapova's line at the 5:10 mark steered the minds of Handler and her audience elsewhere than intended.
What's your own favorite part of this silly, six-minute sit-down?
—Jonathan Scott (Follow me on Twitter @jonscott9.)