My morning got off to an amusing start, as Vince Spadea stopped by my desk to rag on me, but in a good way (which is very much the Spadea way), about being compared to Kevin Federline. He was under the impression that it was I, rather than the Hillbilly Princess, Steggy, who wrote the U.S. Open Fashion Police item the other day.
So I said, "Actually, I know someone who you'll want to talk to." I whipped out the cell and dialed Steggy, who was consuming a bacon biscuit at her desk when she answered.
"I've got someone who wants to talk with you," I said, passing the phone to Vindawg. "She's the one who wrote that post and busted those rhymes (see, I'm keeping it real!)"
Spadea took it, said Hi, and unloaded a freestyle, spontaneous rap, ending up with a slick rhyme - something about Steggy having no ghetto soul. About that he may be right, we can't all be Shtrait Outta Boca, right? Give the 'dawg props, unlike some tennis players we know, he's got a great sense of humor and a great deal of personal warmth - both of which come through in his recently published book, Break Point.
James Blake has been ragging on Vinnie a little for the critical bit in his book about James, but it's all in good fun. I mean, the so-called "controversy" is about nothing more serious than a little testy exchange the two men once had in the heat of on-court combat in a forgotten match at an inconsequential tournament. Nothing more than that, either man will tell you.
Spadea's book actually hit the top of the sports book titles on Amazon a few days ago, but it's slipped back to No. 2. As I wrote in the comments a few days ago in reply to a question about the book, it's a fun, honest, interesting read, over-the-top (you know, it sometimes borders on self-parody) example of jock lit, mercifully free of the pieties and self-importance that drives so many of the titles in that category. His co-author, Dan Markowitz, did a good job downloading Vinnie's brain (that thumb drive comes in handy, heh-heh-heh), and the only thing I would add to the cover is a Warning Label: This book may be mildly offensive for feminists, and anyone else who lacks a sense of humor.
I say, cha-ching! Sold!