It was a dark and stormy night...here in Toronto, but no bloody tornado was going to stop us from driving to the Rexall Centre to watch the lovely and talented Maria Sharapova grunt and squeal her way through yet another win on her way to the quarter finals of the Rogers Cup. Whew! that had to be one of my more lengthy run-on sentences - good thing I don't have an editor sitting next to me with her big red marker, chopping it all up into bits. It's my blog and I'll run-on if I want to.
Yes, there we were, my friend Terri and I wheeling our way up the 400 highway, watching the sky, as a light show of astronomical proportions lit the way. The whole sky north of Finch was dancing with lightening bolts and the black clouds to the west were moving in faster than we could outrun them. Gee, did it even occur to us to turn back? Surely, the tennis would be cancelled - but some little voice urged us to continue on our journey, slow as it was with the traffic all but stopped.
Then the rain came down in torrents all around us and even that thorough soaking wasn't enough to put us off. I just had to see those gazelle-like legs in person and some wimpy little funnel clouds weren't about to stop me. Forever the eternal optimist, I suddenly noticed a very slight lightening of the sky in the west after about an hour into the drive that would normally take 20 minutes. "Look over there, I motioned westward - the sun is trying to burn through those clouds. Let's just get there and see what's going on - we made it this far - may as well carry on now."
We pulled into the York University campus, wound our way toward the VIP parking and were halted by a barrier. "No one is allowed in," the road guard told us. "We'll see about that," we said under our breath. We circled around and quizzed a few official types and finally we managed to secure our VIP parking spot and eventually were adorned with official badges and wrist straps that would allow us into the coveted Rogers Lounge and private box. The staff at the Rexall Centre were busy mopping up centre court from the rain and it was official - tennis would resume.
Now, I'm not sure I would have worked so hard to find my way there, if I only had tickets for the nose-bleed section, but I was really reluctant to pass up this once in a life-time chance to hob-nob with the rich and famous and possibly a few players in this elite setting. And it was worth all the effort. There was a full bar, full hot and cold buffet, red floral arrangements on every table, air-conditioned facility with bar stools lining the windowed box or you had the option of sitting outside with your drink, full wait service that took care of your every need. All that and....those legs. What god decided to give her those gorgeous gams and give me mine? Anyone who has ever lamented their short legs, cannot help but be a least a little envious of Maria Sharapova's loooonnnngg tanned "up to there" beauties. I hate her.
OK, I don't hate her, but I look at her long lean muscled appendages and curse the gene pool I came from. Now don't go get all - "you should be grateful for what god gave you" crap. Call a spade a spade. I got ripped off and Maria took the good ones and that's the reality. Then, to rub salt in my wounds, she can hit a cross court backhand so hard and fast, it is a thing of beauty. All in all it was a fun night and a shout out to my good friends, Terri and John for making it happen.
No storm scares a die-hard tennis fan - and I wasn't alone. Although the stadium was not full, there was a sizable crowd. They brought their umbrellas, they cheered on their favourite player and none of us were worse for the wear.
Game. Set. Match.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Tennis Anyone? Ignore the Tornadoes!
It was a dark and stormy night...here in Toronto, but no bloody tornado was going to stop us from driving to the Rexall Centre to watch the lovely and talented Maria Sharapova grunt and squeal her way through yet another win on her way to the quarter finals of the Rogers Cup. Whew! that had to be one of my more lengthy run-on sentences - good thing I don't have an editor sitting next to me with her big red marker, chopping it all up into bits. It's my blog and I'll run-on if I want to.
Yes, there we were, my friend Terri and I wheeling our way up the 400 highway, watching the sky, as a light show of astronomical proportions lit the way. The whole sky north of Finch was dancing with lightening bolts and the black clouds to the west were moving in faster than we could outrun them. Gee, did it even occur to us to turn back? Surely, the tennis would be cancelled - but some little voice urged us to continue on our journey, slow as it was with the traffic all but stopped.
Then the rain came down in torrents all around us and even that thorough soaking wasn't enough to put us off. I just had to see those gazelle-like legs in person and some wimpy little funnel clouds weren't about to stop me. Forever the eternal optimist, I suddenly noticed a very slight lightening of the sky in the west after about an hour into the drive that would normally take 20 minutes. "Look over there, I motioned westward - the sun is trying to burn through those clouds. Let's just get there and see what's going on - we made it this far - may as well carry on now."
We pulled into the York University campus, wound our way toward the VIP parking and were halted by a barrier. "No one is allowed in," the road guard told us. "We'll see about that," we said under our breath. We circled around and quizzed a few official types and finally we managed to secure our VIP parking spot and eventually were adorned with official badges and wrist straps that would allow us into the coveted Rogers Lounge and private box. The staff at the Rexall Centre were busy mopping up centre court from the rain and it was official - tennis would resume.
Now, I'm not sure I would have worked so hard to find my way there, if I only had tickets for the nose-bleed section, but I was really reluctant to pass up this once in a life-time chance to hob-nob with the rich and famous and possibly a few players in this elite setting. And it was worth all the effort. There was a full bar, full hot and cold buffet, red floral arrangements on every table, air-conditioned facility with bar stools lining the windowed box or you had the option of sitting outside with your drink, full wait service that took care of your every need. All that and....those legs. What god decided to give her those gorgeous gams and give me mine? Anyone who has ever lamented their short legs, cannot help but be a least a little envious of Maria Sharapova's loooonnnngg tanned "up to there" beauties. I hate her.
OK, I don't hate her, but I look at her long lean muscled appendages and curse the gene pool I came from. Now don't go get all - "you should be grateful for what god gave you" crap. Call a spade a spade. I got ripped off and Maria took the good ones and that's the reality. Then, to rub salt in my wounds, she can hit a cross court backhand so hard and fast, it is a thing of beauty. All in all it was a fun night and a shout out to my good friends, Terri and John for making it happen.
No storm scares a die-hard tennis fan - and I wasn't alone. Although the stadium was not full, there was a sizable crowd. They brought their umbrellas, they cheered on their favourite player and none of us were worse for the wear.
Game. Set. Match.
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1 comment:
You're a tenacious woman! Not sure I would have continued on in that storm. Sounds like a fun evening and worth the drive(I like the sound of that buffet)!
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