Originally Posted by bandabou
Then how come there are all those discussions about such and such being the greatest ever....Graf being better than martina N, etc?
Because boo- we're all sitting in this sandbox together, and while I have the pail and shovel in my hand, my fave is better than your fave, and I'll dump a pail full of sand on your head and make you cry until your mommy comes over and takes my pail and shovel away from me, and then my mommy comes over and starts screaming at your mommy, and then they grab each others' hair and the fake nails start flying off, and the cat sounds and screeches fill the air, and the two of us begin wailing loudly underneath it all, until suddenly, out of nowhere, appears this angel of reason, called the game of tennis, wafting gently into the middle of the fray, full of lightening bolts and sparks and shimmering glory, and everyone becomes silent, looking up at the angel with awe-struck reverence. The angel pulls a golden racquet out of its (angels are sexless wonders by the way) flowing robe, and a golden ball suddenly materializes in its hand, and the mommies and babies take a deep breath, as the angel throws the ball up into the air. It's a rather high toss, but the angel has no problem adjusting, arching the back, twisting the torso, bending the knees, and hitting the best serve ever seen by mortals, and the mommies and babies collapse in a heap of tears, wondering what made them lose their initial joy and fascination with the game. And there, in that sandbox, they all realized, as the angel flew away, what they were all there for in the first place- the love of the game.