whoops. i didn't post a blog this Wednesday. i have a good excuse though. i'll blame it on who we all blame things from the age of 11 until 99 -- my parents! (or well, you know, not specifically my parents. parents in general. sigh. that was a failed joke. that i think i tried making once before. one trick pony.)
anyway. that's right. my parents are visiting! *corrie cheers* a September visit has become a family tradition because it means: US OPEN!
my secret: i've never really liked tennis. but my mom's followed it ever since i can remember, so i peripherally know more about it than my actual interest in it belies. growing up, there was always a French Open or Breakfast at Wimbledon on the telly. why taking my mom to the US Open (erm, technically she took me 'cause she and my dad paid) the very first year i moved to NYC didn't occur to me sooner, i dunno.
but last year it did. it almost felt like we were doing something illegal, like, are we really allowed to be here?
my mom smiled and giggled the whole first day. we had such a blast, we went back the second day, too. a tradition was born.
this year it rained. poured, really. matches were cancelled. we weren't sure we would make it. but yesterday after a few train connections, there we were at the ticket office. the attendant assured us there was still tennis to be watched (we got there kinda late). the sky opened up. it got hot. sunburn hot.
my mom giggled, this is so fun!
two Serbians were playing against each other, which i guess is rare. one of them is the number one player in the world. jojovitch. which is pretty cool to think about. i like that about sports, knowing who's the best. you can't say that so correctly about a lot of things: that man is the best shoe maker in the world. nope. she's the best librarian. uh-uh. but jovovitch, there, the tiny man at the bottom? right now, no one plays tennis better than him.
yawn. oh geez. sorry. though i don't love watching sports on tv (hockey is the exception). i love sports in person. maybe it has something to do with this:
but watching tennis in person feels even more special.
growing up tennis meant crashing in my parent's bed on a Saturday morning watching Breakfast at Wimbledon. it's meant late nights watching tense tie-breakers. and conversations about who's topping who and all the latest drama (like, did you know that Venus Williams isn't playing anymore because she's caught some kind of debilitating virus?). in other words, it's meant lots of time spent with my mom.
and it still means that. but even better than those growing up, tv memories, are the ones i have now. of us being there, shivering at night under the lights or baking in the sun. of my mom giggling and saying every few minutes, this is so fun! of drinking beers. buying snacks. taking stupid pictures (and sometimes videos). of her saying good night to the security guards. of the three of us being on the jumbo-tron in the very upper corner.
i only wish this tradition came more than once a year.
maybe we need to become Mets fans.