For sale, sparingly used
Let it be known that on September 9, 2005, a Friday, I experienced an epiphany. I realized that some people, smarter people, have already traded their souls for various things in return and it is my time now. I therefore, have this offer to make. Mr. Devil, or whoever was the heir to prince of darkness (Prince of darkness, junior?), I would like to sell my soul to be able to do things the way this man does. I know, I know, I should get in the queue.
My wife was greatly disillusioned today. She has been asking me to wake up early in the mornings for many days now. But for some strange reason I am not able to bring myself to open my eyes before 7:45 AM, no matter when I sleep. But today I woke up, without the help of an alarm, at 5:00 AM and drove to my office (at home I don't get Ten Sports, which is covering the US open) to watch Federer send another reasonably strong person to the shrink in less than 100 minutes. Honey, I am sorry. I will try to wake up early every morning that Federer plays.
Short of spitting on Federer, Nalbandian tried everything to upset the Swiss' rhythm. He has great self control. Nalbandian, I mean; I would have spit. Nalbandian is definitely not a bad player at all, but all he could do today was act as the ball machine for Roger (yes, we are now on a first name basis). I once read in a sports magazine that Roger seems to keep his top gear for some special occasion. I will tell you what that special occasion is. Me, if POD Junior reads this post. As such I don't use my soul very often, so I might as well put it to some use. If you are reading, Mr. Junior, call me.