Slob’s paradise

Ah! Agh! Aaah! Ah! Aaaaa! Ugh! Ugha! Aha! Aaaah! Aaaha! Aaa! No, it’s not an orgy I’m listening to, just Wimbledon 2005. What has happened to the once-gentle game? You’d think phone- sex operators had taken over. Incidentally, the guttural noise has nothing to do with power-hitting, just gamesmanship. Serena Williams sometimes goes quiet and hits the ball just as hard. Federer makes not a sound. Nor did the great hitters of the past. As they’ve made rules about everything else, they should do something about the grunting, too, otherwise it’s bound to escalate.

I don’t know what’s come over me, but I can’t watch tennis — especially men’s tennis — for more than a few minutes. It’s just too boring. It lacks variety — bang, bang, bang: as subtle as an English plumber handing you the bill for not unplugging the loo. And all that fist pumping and wide-open-mouth bellowing after winning a rally.