By Jackie, TW Social Director
I think I've sufficiently recovered from my trip to California, though my body still can't figure out what time it is. Who knew a measly two hour time difference could wreak so much havoc on a person?
As promised, today's Deuce Club is a continuation of my IW tales. (If you missed last week's post, you can check it out here.) I realize we're already in the thick of the Miami Masters - can we still call these tournaments "Masters"? - so I hope these stories don't seem too outdated.
Foremost ...
I finally narrowed down my many photos to a mere 500(!) and uploaded them for y'all; you'll find my album here. For those of you who attended IW and have photos of your own to share, please feel free to post links in the Comments. To these same folks, if you're a member of our TennisWorld > Real World Facebook group, I encourage you to also post links in the "IW Adventures" discussion topic, so we can easily access all of them later.
Without further ado, here's Part Deux of my IW experience:
Gilles
As I made abundantly clear in last week's post, I was fortunate enough to nab a photo with one Gilles Simon. It was a wild experience, if just because it was the one photo I desperately sought (well, aside from one with TMF, but that's pretty much an impossibility) - and because I missed an opportunity for one just the day before. Perhaps I ought to explain that story first ... or the one that precedes it. Why don't I just start all the way at the beginning.
Time: Saturday night. Place: The hotel lobby/bar area. I was ordering a drink at the bar (not for me - still teetotaling, worry not), when none other than Thierry Tulasne, Gilles's coach, appeared right next to me. Just a couple of hours earlier, his charge had won a nail-biter of a match against Lu in front of a rowdy and frozen crowd (myself included). That seemed as good an ice-breaker as any, so I turned to him and said, "Congratulations - I was there the entire time!" He was extremely pleasant (almost surprisingly so, considering he must have been exhausted); smiling, he replied, "Oh yeah?" Since he seemed to be in a great mood, I asked him if he wouldn't mind taking a photo with me and he happily obliged. Of course, I also had to ask him if Gilles would be coming down anytime soon, to which Thierry responded, "No, right now he's having a MAH-sahj." Eh, can't win 'em all.
As I left him, I said something along the lines of, "Thank you so much - it was great to meet you and I hope to meet Gilles sometime, too." In that moment, I was horribly embarrassed - why did I have to mention Gilles again? As if that were the only reason I spoke to him! (Well, to be fair, that's probably the only reason any tennis fan would approach him - and he's probably well aware of that.) I was so thrilled to have had that experience, though - as were the TW chicas, especially vetmama, who just that morning was hounding me to talk to him at breakfast!
Fast forward to Sunday afternoon. I was strolling around the practice courts, trying to figure out where to get settled, when who I did I cross paths with? Thierry. I was staring at my feet while walking and when I looked up, he was right in front of me, with a big smile on his face! Obviously that meant he recognized me from the night before. I hurriedly replaced my "Holy crap!" look with a smile and continued walking, until I realized he was probably on his way to a Gilles practice. Clearly, I had to see where he was going. (Until that point, I had only seen Gilles for a millisecond in the elevator and at that Lu match, so I wasn't about to miss this.)
But wait, how awkward is that? Changing directions and following the guy after he just recognized me? So I bided my time ... chewed on my nails for a few minutes ... then proceeded to walk over to the general area Thierry was headed. Lo and behold, there was Gilles preparing to practice. And his lovely girlfriend was with him!
I felt a little guilty for scoping out their interaction (that's "private," after all), but more than anything, I was so impressed by it. It was clear that they adore each other and harbor a mutual respect and admiration. (Okay, so it's possible I'm off the mark - how much can one glean in, oh, five minutes? - but my observations are confirmed by every other account I've read of the pair.)
But I digress. As I was watching Gilles practice, I was unreasonably self-conscious because of those earlier run-ins with Thierry (not to mention the "pancakes" comments we've all left here on the blog!). So at the end, when folks were running up to him for autographs and photos as he was leaving the court, I just stood there, frozen. I thought it was best to keep a low profile ... but a few minutes after he was gone, it hit me that I blew the perfect opportunity to meet him!
That's why when I unexpectedly saw him practicing again the following day, I was determined to not let the moment pass me by. Or vetmama was determined on my behalf! See, I was still worried about looking like an uber-fan so I kept my distance - but vetmama wasn't about to let me chicken out again. She had to practically pick me up and carry me over to Gilles!
!Kevin&Jackie But it was all worth it in the end - we both got terrific photos with Gilles. He was gracious and good-natured (check out my photo of him laughing) and tried his best to accommodate everyone clamoring for his autograph/photo. I managed to give him a quiet "Bonne chance" before he left the area (which unfortunately didn't do him much good in his match vs. Ljubicic later that afternoon); it was the least I could do considering he just made my day. Heck, my entire trip!
I-l-l ... I-N-I!
Right before we accosted(!) Gilles, I also managed to nab a photo with Kevin Anderson, his hitting partner. Not many recognized him, but I've been a fan for a while (fellow Illini stick together!) so I was thrilled to meet him. He seems like a terrific guy - you can tell by the smile, right?
TW Everywhere!
The night I stayed out late to watch the Simon-Lu match was not only memorable for the match itself but also because of an interesting encounter I had with a fellow spectator.
During a changeover, I noticed two guys moving seats to the row in front of me. A few seconds later, one of them turned to me and said, "Excuse me, is your name Jackie?"
Total incredulity! I put my hands over my mouth and sputtered, "Yes?" He then introduced himself as Jesse and noted that a) he's not a stalker(!) and b) he's an infrequent TW poster and a member of our Facebook group. I was so happy to meet him - after all, it's difficult enough to meet TW regulars in real life, let alone those who don't post often. I guess it's a good thing I put my picture on the DC every once in a while, eh?
Anyway, we chatted for a bit in between points (he was cheering for Gilles, too - my kind of guy!) and was nothing but thoroughly friendly and charming.
Meanwhile, I was struck by the thought that there are so many brilliant people just like him who follow this lil' blog of ours that we don't even know exist. But perhaps that's a topic for another DC ...
(Jesse, I hope I didn't embarrass you too much. It was a pleasure meeting you and I hope you stop by more often!)
TMF
I spent I-don't-even-know-how-many hours waiting for TMF to practice and watching his matches, of course. (Even that doubles fiasco against the Bryan brothers.)
The first day on the grounds, my trusty fellow TMF fans alerted me of when he'd be practicing - around 3 PM, if I'm not mistaken. It was imperative that we get there early and reserve a spot smack dab up against the fence ... so that's what we did, naturally. Having such great company made the wait a little less torturous - namely, I had vetmama, Maplesugar, jb, and lpb by my side (did I miss anyone?). Finally, after what felt like an eternity, TMF arrived!
Though I'd seen him in Cincinnati, I was still overwhelmed with excitement; he has such a grand aura and a potent energy - it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Watching him was a joy, though the size of the crowd made me nervous. (Indeed, at the end, when he came over to our area to sign, several of us had to yell to mind the children. And to stop pushing!)
Amidst all the hullabaloo, I managed to get my second Federbear signed. (And took many a close-up photo. They're all in the online album, don't worry.) lpb was inspired by my Cincinnati story, so she brought her Federbear along, too!
!Federbears The day after, we did it all over again - except this time the wait was even longer! TMF was scheduled to practice at around 5 PM, I believe (ladies, you'll have to refresh my memory), so we set up shop about an hour earlier ... but he was more than an hour late! A number of fans bailed before he arrived, but we're hardcore - no way were we missing him after waiting that long. This practice was much more low-key than the last, as he was hitting with Yves Allegro. He was having fun out there ... and so were we. At practice's end, there was more signing - and of course, more close-up shots (including one "up his nose"). And more elation!
Oh, and did you guys catch the shots of Maplesugar on the big screen/jumbotron during TMF's matches? (Or was it just the Gicquel one?) You're famous, girl!
Granola Bar
Though a number of players stayed at our hotel (as noted in last week's post), they were often nowhere to be seen in the evenings. No hard partying for them - a good thing, of course. Still, one night, I noticed Sam Querrey getting his flirt on with a couple of young ladies (and he was at The Beer Hunter the night we were there, too, remember).
We also had an interesting run-in with a Spaniard:
In the hotel club, this charming lad introduces himself as Rafa (which I'm sure he loves using as a pick-up line). Then, upon hearing that we're there for the tennis, he tells us that he's best friends with the "number five Spanish player." For a few seconds, I attempt to go through all of them in my head and figure it out (Rafa, Hott Sauce, Ferru ... quick, Jackie, quick!), then I just give up and ask. It's Marcel Granollers! (Or "Mar-sell Grrrrrah-no-yair" - fortunately, I can grasp some Spanish.)
My initial reaction is to say, "Oh, Granola Bar!" but thankfully I stop myself and give a "Oh, that's great!" instead. He explains that they're childhood friends; it's obvious he's very proud of Marcel - and proud to be a member of his camp. It was a fun little conversation, and I managed to not let that nickname slip ...
I never did find out how Marcel made out. Wait, just checked - he retired from his first round match. Boo.
Perfect Timing
After getting the photo with Gilles, I needed a few minutes to collect myself - and to change the memory card in my camera, which thankfully only pooped out after he left. As this is happening, I spot Eduardo Schwank setting up to practice. I'm sitting on a bench right outside the fence, and I whisper to vetmama, "Doesn't he look a little like a poor man's Tommy Haas?" (Was that mean? I promise I'm not!) vetmama looks and completely agrees. I go back to my camera, while vetmama pays closer attention to Schwank.
Minutes later, vetmama comes over to me and says, "So, first we have the Poor Man's Tommy Haas ... and now we have the Real Tommy Haas!" I look up, and lo and behold, there he is, about to practice with Schwank! It was a hilarious moment - of all people this partner could've been, it's Tommy Haas, Schwank's near-doppelgänger. I still chuckle when I think about that whole sequence. Was sort of the perfect cap to a dizzying afternoon.
Excuse me for going overboard there - when I start, I just can't stop. I hope you found the stories (at least some of them!) entertaining. And if you haven't shared your IW experiences yet, make sure to do so in the Comments!
Also, if you're attending the tournament in Miami, consider using this space to discuss/plan a TW gathering. I won't be there, but I'm happy to help organize a meet-n-greet.
As usual, feel free to carry on some of the sort-of-but-not-really-related-to-tennis discussions here (TMF's baby's name? Hott Sauce's love life?) or just go OT altogether.