Rafa's diary - day two
Sep. 2nd, 2009 04:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxTitle: Rafa's Diary - day two
Rating: gennish although that might change
Warnings: none really that I can think of
Day One
Day two - Tuesday
I hit with Marat today. Marat is one of the many things Toni doesn't approve of.
"Wasted talent is a terrible crime," he said in my ear, as we got to the court. "And don't think you can start swearing all over the place just because he does."
"You swear all the time!"
"But I'm not number three in the world, Rafael."
It was very nice to talk with Marat. We never say much about tennis though. It's a little bit awkward now that it's clear he doesn't want to be doing this, and it seems insensitive to talk about my own problems. Fortunately, Marat always has stories of the things—and people-- he's done in Russia and Monte Carlo.
"You see the baby pictures yet?" he said to me, as we took a break.
Why does everyone ask me? "No!" Then I changed the subject to Dinara, and settled back to listen to Marat's ranting.
Novak was in the locker rooms. He flexed his bicep at me and then came over to hug me. He's a strange guy.
Back at the hotel we had lunch and then Maymo took me off for a massage. Then Benito came to me afterwards with lists of questions he thought were suitable. So many questions, all the time, over and over, and I never have the answers. Isn’t that strange? I'm a tennis player, not a thinker. Toni would agree with that.
"Here's some reading material for you," Benito said, handing me some printouts. He knew I liked to read the pressers. One thing Toni has taught me; know your enemy. Okay, well, it's not as dramatic as Toni would like to paint it, but I do like to know my colleagues well. It helps me if I understand their motivations.
"This one should give you a smile," Carlos said.
Britton's interview was a little like glimpsing my own younger self, back when I was 17 and Roger Federer was the absolute outer limit of the known universe. I've hit to that forehand too, just to see it, to see how beautiful it is, how powerfully he drives it. Pretty. What a suitable word. I did smile, and chewed on my fingernail and remembered the times I'd dreamed about tennis. I looked up to see Carlos watching me.
Everyone thinks I'm different to normal people, but I'm not. I'm just a person; everything about me is normal. I kept on reading until I got to Roger's interview, then I felt a little less normal. He thinks I'm good for the game, he thinks we've helped each other's career. Maybe one day we'll be able to sit down and figure out exactly how.
It's late now, and we've eaten dinner. The hotel suite is calm and quiet. Toni has hidden my Almodóvar box set, I swear! I can't find it anywhere. Feli came over to the hotel with The Wire season one, so maybe we can watch that.
"Is it violent?" I said.
"It's really good. Look, it was either this or crap like High School Musical."
I still haven't seen High School Musical, but Maribel keeps telling me to watch it. I must put it on my list of things to buy. I won’t mention it to Feli though.
Rating: gennish although that might change
Warnings: none really that I can think of
Day One
Day two - Tuesday
I hit with Marat today. Marat is one of the many things Toni doesn't approve of.
"Wasted talent is a terrible crime," he said in my ear, as we got to the court. "And don't think you can start swearing all over the place just because he does."
"You swear all the time!"
"But I'm not number three in the world, Rafael."
It was very nice to talk with Marat. We never say much about tennis though. It's a little bit awkward now that it's clear he doesn't want to be doing this, and it seems insensitive to talk about my own problems. Fortunately, Marat always has stories of the things—and people-- he's done in Russia and Monte Carlo.
"You see the baby pictures yet?" he said to me, as we took a break.
Why does everyone ask me? "No!" Then I changed the subject to Dinara, and settled back to listen to Marat's ranting.
Novak was in the locker rooms. He flexed his bicep at me and then came over to hug me. He's a strange guy.
Back at the hotel we had lunch and then Maymo took me off for a massage. Then Benito came to me afterwards with lists of questions he thought were suitable. So many questions, all the time, over and over, and I never have the answers. Isn’t that strange? I'm a tennis player, not a thinker. Toni would agree with that.
"Here's some reading material for you," Benito said, handing me some printouts. He knew I liked to read the pressers. One thing Toni has taught me; know your enemy. Okay, well, it's not as dramatic as Toni would like to paint it, but I do like to know my colleagues well. It helps me if I understand their motivations.
"This one should give you a smile," Carlos said.
Britton's interview was a little like glimpsing my own younger self, back when I was 17 and Roger Federer was the absolute outer limit of the known universe. I've hit to that forehand too, just to see it, to see how beautiful it is, how powerfully he drives it. Pretty. What a suitable word. I did smile, and chewed on my fingernail and remembered the times I'd dreamed about tennis. I looked up to see Carlos watching me.
Everyone thinks I'm different to normal people, but I'm not. I'm just a person; everything about me is normal. I kept on reading until I got to Roger's interview, then I felt a little less normal. He thinks I'm good for the game, he thinks we've helped each other's career. Maybe one day we'll be able to sit down and figure out exactly how.
It's late now, and we've eaten dinner. The hotel suite is calm and quiet. Toni has hidden my Almodóvar box set, I swear! I can't find it anywhere. Feli came over to the hotel with The Wire season one, so maybe we can watch that.
"Is it violent?" I said.
"It's really good. Look, it was either this or crap like High School Musical."
I still haven't seen High School Musical, but Maribel keeps telling me to watch it. I must put it on my list of things to buy. I won’t mention it to Feli though.