The "let's break the 1000 post barrier" thread - TennisForum.com
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post #1 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 5th, 2002, 11:42 PM Thread Starter
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The "let's break the 1000 post barrier" thread

Come on guys! Jenn's Den hasn't even doubled up on Sandrine's Marines in # of posts yet! Not to take anything away from Sandrine, but.....

We can talk about Jenn, about ourselves, about stupid friends and family that don't support Jenn (lil' bro made a $50 bet with me 3 years ago that his little pet Martina would pass Steffi in # of GS titles!! HAHAHA!!! Loser), start an early RG party, whatever, but let's post now and let's post often!! Get this sucker in quadruple digits
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post #2 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 08:22 AM
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morning

I'm very tired and trying to think of something Jen related to make this post relevant.... Xaviers getting married No offence to him, but I'm glad Jen broke up with him but I guess nobody need reminding of why....

Jen's barely played this year, she makes the Williams' sisters looks as if they're playing all the time Better than Lindsay fans are going through though

Jen's Countdown to the French Open

Charleston
15-21 April 2002

Fed Cup, Charlotte
27-28 April 2002

Berlin
6-12 May 2002

Rome
13-19 May 2002

French Open
27 May-9 June 2002

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #3 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 08:32 AM
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So far took part in 5 tournaments (1 exhibition in hong kong + 3 WTA tournaments +1 GS)

won:2
Finals:2
Others:1

Record against top 10 players

Venus 0-0
Serena 0-2
Hingis 1-0
Lindsay 0-0
Monica 1-0
Kim 1-0
Henin 0-0
Mauresmo 1-0
Jelena 0-0

Total: 4-2

No doubles matches

Go Jennifer!!Keep your winning record
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post #4 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 08:59 AM
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Have people seen this?? LMAO!!!

Capriati Could Face Fine For Ferrari Patch

Jennifer Capriati By Richard Pagliaro
04/04/2002

Guests staying at the Sonesta resort in Key Biscayne, Florida last week were treated to the sight of Jennifer Capriati driving around the parking lot in her new Ferrari convertible on her day off from the Nasdaq-100 Open.

The top-ranked Capriati carried a remnant of the Italian car company with her in the form of a Ferrari logo patch placed prominently on the front of her red Fila shirt as she cruised to a second-round tournament victory. The move could cost Capriati some cash.

The Sanex WTA Tour is considering fining the two-time Australian Open champion for violating the tour's policy prohibiting all corporate logos aside from the apparel company's and the Sanex logo.

"We have not made a decision on this," WTA Tour spokesman Chris DeMaria told the SportsBusiness Journal.

The Ferrari convertible Capriati owns was a gift from Fila, her clothing sponsor, in recognition of her reaching No. 1 in the rankings. Fila owns rights to manufacture Ferrari's retail products. The Italian sportswear manufacturer used the Nasdaq-100 Open, widely regarded as the "fifth Grand Slam" by players and media, to promote its relationship with Ferrari.

"The concept was to launch the Fila and Ferrari merchandising line," Fila tennis talent scout Martin Mulligan told Daniel Kaplan of the SportsBusiness Journal. Mulligan said the fine Capriati faces could be a few thousand dollars.

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #5 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 12:10 PM
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VBN u usually put some good articles, what happend? lol

Cogito, ergo sum.
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post #6 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 12:22 PM
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bugger off

Capriati's success must taste sweeter
By DALE ROBERTSON
Copyright 2001 Houston Chronicle
By the age of 14, she had gone through three coaches, and her overbearing father would soon chase away a fourth. Despite her spunk and sparkle, and her seemingly unbridled enthusiasm for winning tennis matches, there were warning signs of a tragedy in the making. But hardly anybody gave them more than cursory notice.

Jennifer Capriati, barely graduated from junior high, was America's new Can't-Miss Kid. Such was the magnitude of baby Jen-Jen's promise, which made her Chris Evert's heiress apparent after Tracy Austin and Andrea Jaeger had flamed out while still in pigtails, that a handful of companies had signed her to almost $5 million in endorsement deals. Oil of Olay was among them. A 14-year-old needed a skin-care cream? She was Tiger long before he was.

In mid-May 1990, Newsweek made Capriati its feature story. Three weeks later, she rolled into the semifinals of the French Open, said to be proof that the crushing burden of expectations wouldn't be too heavy a weight for her to lug around. Appearances in the semis at Wimbledon and the U.S. Open would follow the next year.

At the latter, she lost a magnificent three-set slugfest to 18-year-old Monica Seles, a seminal match that redefined women's tennis as a game of equal parts power and precision. It also announced the Seles-Capriati rivalry as a worthy successor to Evert-Navratilova.


Rivals come and go
Poor ol' Steffi Graf, we clucked. At 22, three years removed from an unprecedented Golden Slam, her days surely were numbered. As Yogi Berra might say, her sunset was on the horizon.

Seles took three of the four majors in 1991 and clearly had Steffi pinned. Graf never would survive the one-two punch of Monica and Jenny.

Of course, she did -- with help.

Seles, plunged into a black hole through no fault of her own, never recovered from the emotional damage wrought in the spring of 1993 by the deranged Graf fan who stabbed her. Almost simultaneously, Capriati was self-imploding, turning into a teenager from hell in the throes of adolescent rebellion.

After sulking through a desultory first-round loss at Flushing Meadow that fall, she effectively quit tennis, inserted a ring in her nose, was caught shoplifting, began hanging with a bad crowd in a drug-invested Miami neighborhood, got arrested on possession charges, and failed to win a match of any consequence for more than five years.

Her top-10 ranking evaporated, replaced by a court-case number. Her fairy tale had become a cautionary one.

Anyway, with no Seles and no Capriati to dog her every step, Graf added 11 major championships to go with the 11 she already owned. Had she entered the Australian Open in 1995 and 1996, she might have completed back-to-back Grand Slams.

But her body began to wear out, and another precocious miss, 17-year-old Martina Hingis, helped coax Graf into inevitable retirement. Martina went 4-for-6 in Slams in 1997-98 to draw an early bead on the Open-era standards established by her namesake Navratilova, then surpassed by Steffi.

But Hingis was a throwback to a more gentile era, and her physical shortcomings would be exploited by the bigger, stronger Lindsay Davenport and the bigger, stronger, faster Williams sisters, a two-headed teen monster who had picked up where the heavy-hitting Capriati left off years earlier.


A blessing in disguise
Jen-Jen? Her bad-girl days behind her, she was lurking on the tour's fringes, a bit overweight and underdedicated. But Capriati's wayward period had prevented no small measure of stress on her muscles and connective tissues. She was approaching her mid-20s in human years only, not tennis years. Which brings us to the present.

Eleven springs after her first trip to the French Open semifinals, she one-upped her child self by shoving aside Serena Williams, 19, in the quarters and the still-No. 1-ranked Hingis in the semis. Then, in the longest Roland Garros women's final ever, the just-turned-18 Kim Clijsters ate her red dust.

And thus Capriati, buffed, matured and confident, moves on to Wimbledon halfway to a Slam, alone at last at the pinnacle of her profession. Some would say she's desperate to make up for so much squandered time. Others suggest she's having a ball, with the winning a sweet byproduct.

It's unclear what message we should glean from Jennifer's mottled life story. Every peril of child stardom has been nakedly displayed in the Capriatis' glass house, but is it so terrible when the story produces an ending as happy as hers? And would she appreciate what she has today if her script hadn't had so many zigzags?

No chance.

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #7 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 12:31 PM
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Great Expectations

By TAD BARTIMUS

Good on 'ya, Jennifer Capriati! It's great to see your name back in the headlines, great to see a smile on your face, great to see you waving the Australian Open tennis trophy in your powerful right hand. The world labeled you a has-been at 17, but you reached way down inside yourself to come back a winner.

It was a lot harder the second time. Most things are. You were only 13 when you burst onto the international tennis scene in 1990 with a 1,000-watt smile and a killer backhand. Whoopee! Another Chris Evert! We're always looking for another somebody: another Michael Jordan, another John Elway, another Mia Hamm. Just give us a brilliantly talented youngster, and we'll make 'em an icon!
Your semifinal match against top-ranked Monica Seles at the 1991 U.S. Open offered tantalizing promise of a long-running duel of the divas. The next year you won a gold medal at the Barcelona Olympics.

Then the relentless media spotlight, pushy parents, sponsorship sharks circling to feed off your fame, hormones and your own fledgling independence ran you right off the rails and onto a police blotter. You were accused of smoking pot and shoplifting, you got pimples, put on pounds, pierced a nostril.

Hand-wringers in the media and on the tennis circuit moaned, "Why?"

You were set up, Jennifer. You were a million-dollar baby with a brain that wasn't even fully developed yet. You were, in short, a teenager.

And you were tired.

Two new studies, by the National Academy of Sciences' National Research Council and the Institute of Medicine, now claim that teenagers who work more than 20 hours a week may wind up getting lower grades, using more alcohol than their peers and spending less time with their parents. Earlier health and behavior studies reported teens are chronically sleep-deprived.

Nearly 5 million American children under 18 hold jobs. Yours, Jennifer, was relentless. You were always "on." Everybody had a stake in your success: your sponsors, the adoring press, your mom and dad, the big business of women's professional tennis.

Fans don't like to see their stars fall to earth. When you rebelled and failed to live up to others' expectations, you were cast aside like yesterday's ticket stub.

The world looked elsewhere for the next Chris Evert, leaving you to flail about like any other high school-age girl trying to find herself. Except for you, it was harder. Your mistakes turned into late-night talk show monologues and parental cautionary tales. You became a write-off, Jennifer - to everybody but yourself.

"I was very young and I was experiencing my adolescence," you told the world after you tried to make a comeback at the U.S. Open in 1999 but couldn't get past - who else? - Monica Seles.

"The path I did take for a brief period of my life was not of reckless drug use, hurting others, but it was a path of quiet rebellion, of a little experimentation of a darker side of my confusion in a confusing world, lost in the midst of finding my identity," you said.

"I made mistakes, and, yes, I am to blame ... But I've put a great deal behind me, moving forward in the right direction ... I feel like I've started a new chapter in my life."

Few believed you, Jennifer. Sportswriters have become inured to empty mea culpas from the likes of Darryl Strawberry and Mike Tyson. Why should your story be any different?

Because you had more faith in yourself than anybody else did. Because the people around you realized that Jennifer the person was more precious than Jennifer the endorsement, Jennifer the paycheck, Jennifer the statistic. Because - simple as it sounds - your maturing brain finally got hard-wired, you got help, you got sleep, and playing tennis became fun again.

This time, under a brilliant Australian sun, with adoring fans once again on your side, you volleyed past Seles, muscled aside defending champion Lindsay Davenport and toppled top-seeded Martina Hingis to win your first-ever Grand Slam tournament.

You showed us the hard way to become a grownup, Jennifer. May your victory - and all your victories to come - be sweeter for it.

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #8 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 01:06 PM
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As a person, Capriati comes back strongest

We hoped, as Jennifer Capriati's tennis flame went cold at age 17, it was nothing uglier than a quick-to-be-cured fit of juvenile rebellion.

Unfortunately not.

We prayed, as Jenny went into a personal plunge, being arrested for marijuana possession, charged with shoplifting, followed by an even more frightening episode, discovery of a sweet-faced kid going bad as she cavorted with creeps who reeked of cocaine and heroin.

So severe was Capriati's dive, you wondered if the teen millionaire would survive to adulthood, much less ever again grasp a tennis racket with worldly sincerity.

Her athletic prime was a tragic inferno. Her life in spiraling jeopardy. Odds had to be 100-to-1 that Jenny would win another professional match.

It was maybe 1,000-to-1 against Stefano Capriati's out-of-control daughter ever again being a WTA champion. I mean, who was even thinking about tennis stuff?

Conquering at the Grand Slam plateau? In the state of chance, Nevada, that probably could've gotten you a million-to-1 bet in the mid-'90s.

All that is why Capriati's conquest 10 days ago at the Australian Open, in a week when most of us were mega-immersed in Super Bowl XXXV, ranks as a far more stunning, uplifting and courageous accomplishment than the Baltimore Ravens strangling all enemies in their NFL playoff path.

By 1994, at 18, Capriati was in rehab. Hope, while rekindled, was fragile for a prodigy who turned pro as an eighth-grader. From afar, you pulled for the young woman from Wesley Chapel, north of Tampa. Emotions all about her, having zip to do with tennis.

Jenny made some progress. She returned to her game in 1996, but with sporadic participation and hardly any success. Sharpness, physical and mental, was inadequate. Still, compared with her travails at 17, it was an hour of promise. We outsiders weren't seeing much of Capriati. Hearing even less. But, clearly, there was some grinding going on.

You've come a long way ...

Last time I saw Jenny in person was at Wimbledon. Seven months ago, she surprisingly made the final 16 in England before being overpowered by second-seeded Lindsay Davenport. Even so, there was little to suggest what was ahead for Capriati in Melbourne.

Her conditioning still seemed insufficient. Jenny huffed too much for a global tennis whiz. She couldn't run with Venus or Serena Williams, Davenport or Martina Hingis. Talking with the 24-year-old American, true maturity seemed an ongoing challenge.

Then, the Slam shocker.

Capriati, who knows a lot of meanings for down under, had played well enough since Wimbledon to be the 12th seed in Australia. But could she carry it any further? At 24, her tennis clock was ticking fast in an era when babies become champs.

Chances of a big Melbourne move seemed less than glorious, until Jenny began flattening people named Nagyova, Oremans, Pascual and Marrero. At that point, she advanced to celebrity wars.

Jenny would be far more ready than at 13, surely than at 17. Monica Seles was 5-7, 6-4, 6-3 quarterfinal prey. Davenport reappeared. A 6-foot-2 barrier. But it wouldn't be like at Wimbledon.

Jenny, trimmer and quicker now, put a 6-3, 6-4 hammer on Lindsay. All that was left was the Australian Open final. Facing the No. 1-ranked Hingis. That's all.

Martina got kayoed. It was better than Ali flooring Liston. Capriati, the formerly troubled Florida child, dominated 6-4, 6-3 against the best.

Her first Grand Slam trophy, so many years after it might've been expected of Capriati. For some reason, in the business of overcoming athletic odds, I thought about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team.

When Capriati flew home to Tampa, an 18-hour journey from Australia, the airport was empty. Only her mom, Denise, was there to meet Jenny and her father, Stefano. That was more than enough. A comeback family experiencing the moment of its lifetime.

It was Super Bowl Sunday. A mile away, within earshot, the Ravens were flooring the New York Giants at Raymond James Stadium with 72,000 patrons in the stands and 130-million watching on television. But, in so many ways, something even more worth cheering was going on at a Tampa International gate.

They've been through so much, these Capriatis. Learned a lot. Persevered. Rebounded. Jenny gets our further prayers, that the Australian Open winner is now in ample control of her life. Able to talk warmly and effectively with a once-domineering dad. Surely his education has also been abundant.

After her moment of Melbourne triumph, Jenny told Hingis, a fellow resident at Saddlebrook Resort, "I hope to be in many more finals with you. You've had lots. ... I'm glad I finally got to be in one."

Maybe it'll happen, but even if Capriati never again makes it to the Slam optimum, she will always have Australia 2001. Sure, a check for $473,385 went with it, but that's only superficially important.

What counts is that a troubled, quarrelsome, down-spiraling, endangered teen somehow found the guts and drive in 1994 to give pure life another opportunity to flower.

Capriati's personal cleansing and tennis rebirth, with dessert in Australia, are byproducts of a retracked soul. Keep it going, Jenny. Tennis, sure. Life, absolutely.

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #9 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 05:35 PM
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928 beers on the wall, 928 bottles of beer. Take one down=pass it around 927 beers on the wall.


OOOPS! Wrong direction. Well hells bells-my post will still count won't it?
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post #10 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 05:38 PM
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Kazzmazz-you bad thing you
I DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT see your
name in my 'rollcall' Thread. Afraid to identify yourself as a Jen fan? Put your name down there-cut and paste if you want and put your name first and mine last, but whatever it takes add your name.

This way we are closer to 1000 and next time some anti-Jen twerp says "Jen has no fans" we can throw that list right at 'em:
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post #11 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 05:52 PM
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oh shoot me kazz-
i see your name on the rollcall
Too many beers offt he wall i guess
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post #12 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 06:03 PM Thread Starter
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Hmmm.....

I forgive you Rollo. In fact, I'll even have a beer in your honour. *932*
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post #13 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 06:22 PM
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What brand is it Kazzy?
Actually I prefer wine myself
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post #14 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 06:22 PM
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people, relevance!! at least i have the decency to paste some article

Jennifer Capriati

“I’m just waiting to wake up from this dream,” Jennifer Capriati told the crowd after winning the 2001 French Open title. “It doesn’t seem like reality right now.” Understandably so.

Jennifer Capriati was born on March 29, 1976, in New York state, and was groomed to be a tennis champ from day one. While she was still a toddler, her Italian dad Stefano, a former boxer turned tennis coach, and mum Denise, a former Pan-Am stewardess, became members of a Long Island tennis club. Here, Stefano, a self-taught player and coach, encouraged his daughter to roam the tennis courts and to get a feel for the sport. Later, when Jennifer’s burgeoning talent became obvious, the family moved to Florida, where the ten-year-old began an intense training programme with Jimmy Evert, the father of tennis champ Chris.

A relaxation of tour regulations enabled Jennifer turned pro a year early at the age of 13. She stepped onto the court for the first time as a professional at the Virginia Slims tournament in March 1990, swinging a water bottle – she’d brought her own as no-one had mentioned free water was provided – and smiled at the Florida hometown crowd. Swiftly crushing her opponent, she got all the way through to the finals before falling to Gabriela Sabatini. America had found its next Chris Evert.

The following year, a 14-year-old Jennifer reached the semi-final of the French Open and later became the youngest player ever seeded at Wimbledon. Lucrative endorsement deals to the tune of £10 million piled in as she went on to win a gold medal at the Barcelona Olympics in 1992. But by then her fans had noticed that the young player didn’t seem to be having fun any more – and they were right. “When I looked in the mirror I actually saw this distorted image. I was so ugly and fat I just wanted to kill myself,” she says. “At the end of a match, I couldn’t wait to get off the court. Mentally, I’d just lost it. I wasn’t happy with myself, my tennis, my life, my coaches, my friends…”

A series of run-ins with the law followed, including a 1993 shoplifting incident and a May 1994 arrest for marijuana possession. Jennifer retreated from the spotlight, and between 1994 and 1996 the former child prodigy played just one professional tennis match.

Taking time off from the sport, she enrolled in high school. When she eventually returned to tennis, it was on her own terms.

Jennifer’s comeback was not an overnight affair. She struggled for a while, languishing near 100 in the rankings, before deciding to make a go at it and really “do what she was put here to do”. Beginning an intensive weight-training program, the 5ft 8in American defeated world number one Martina Hingis in the final of the Australian Open in January 2001. It was her first Grand Slam win.

“What people think of me is not what I should think of myself,” says a newly confident Jennifer. “I feel like I’ve been reincarnated. I’m living a second life.”

and where they produce desolation, they call it peace
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post #15 of 48 (permalink) Old Apr 6th, 2002, 06:49 PM Thread Starter
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Quote:
What brand is it Kazzy?
Actually I prefer wine myself
Well, I just had Mexican for lunch, so it was a Corona. Be careful Rollo, mixing all that beer with wine. I wouldn't want you to get sick in Jen's Den


BTW VBN, thanks for all the articles. But how do you take so many beers off the wall and not get drunk??
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