It proved to be a rough anxious Australian Open final for me to partake in. I enjoy both Rafa Nadal and Roger Federer equally for neither one displays cocky motherfuckerish qualities while maintaining fierce warrior kick assyness. I woke up at 12:30am-tired and thirsty. I drank water and watched and watched and cringed and shouted and watched. Both made some nasty sick shots (double backhand wizardry from Rafa and shocking forehands from Roger). I tried to fall asleep and just listen, but my left eye kept popping open. Didn't want to miss any action.
BOOM!
He did it! Rafa is the champion. VERDAD!
He picks his ass alot though. He needs to buy some different undies.
Awww. Come here Roger, let me give you a big warm hug. Don't cry. I know it hurts and feels devastating, but there's always the next big one right around the corner. Get em in Paris and New York!
I wanted him to tie Pete Sampras. Alas, didn't happen.
Look at his quivering chin. Poor guy. I remember losing a triple header when I played softball and I bawled my eyes out. It really fucking hurts.
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