The metro ride from Cluny-Sorbonne to the western edge of Paris and our Roland Garros stop, Michel-Ange-Auteuil on the #10 line was surprisingly swift, taking only about 25 minutes. At each metro stop, more and more tennis fans piled into the train, many with their backpacks containing provisions. I was surprised at this, since at the US Open the restrictions on what bags are allowed in are so onerous that I simply gave up bringing even the smallest item. Checking in your bags cost a lot too - both in terms of money (the nerve!) and time lining up. Another pleasant surprise was the nattily-attired spectators; well it shouldn't really be a surprise - these are the French, after all :-) In contrast, the sight of US Open spectators inexplicably dressed in tennis attire, as if
they had a scheduled match, never fails to amuse. There's always someone wearing a ratty T-shirt with something like "1999 NJTL Tennis League" printed on it - um, those Federer Nike outfits look much more classier, hint hint. And until a few years ago when the above-mentioned bag restrictions took effect, it wasn't unusual to see some hard-core fans carrying those huge 6-racquet tennis bags (coordinated with their outfits, of course), seemingly ready to jump onto the courts in case their favorite player gets injured and has to withdraw. "Oh, Agassi's injured?! Well, I'm dressed and ready to play for him!".
Simply following the crowds after getting off at Michel-Ange-Auteuil took us to the grounds of Roland Garros. There are three big stadiums - Court Philippe Chatrier (center court), Court Suzanne Lenglen (named after the dominant womens' player in the '30s, who smoked cigars and drank wine during changeovers!), and Court One - in addition to fifteen or so outer courts where the lesser known players do battle. At the moment though, lots of famous stars were on these courts practicing for their matches. The top photo is of James Blake, a Harvard-educated, popular American who is wildly overrated and does poorly on clay every year. (True enough, he crashed out in the second round). This generation of American players never really figured out how to slide on the red dirt, so they might just as well eat baguettes and escargot all day and show up to collect their first-round prize money. Oh, for the good ol' '90s when
Jim Courier,
Michael Chang, and
Andre Agassi showed them how it's done.
Above is Richard Gasquet, the top French men's player who hasn't lived up to expectations yet despite having a notably beautiful one-handed backhand. At age nine(!!!) he appeared on the cover of L'Equipe, the leading sports magazine in France, so just imagine the immense pressure on him every year to do well, if not win, Roland Garros. Alas, not being the most mentally strong competitor around, Gasquet decided to flake out at this year's tournament, claiming some sort of injury and disappointing the French yet again. I admit it must be tough for the French players to keep in tip-top shape, I'd rather eat all those baked goods, stinky cheese, and other fattening staples of their cuisine rather than work out at the gym too. Other famous players I saw practicing were Amelie Mauresmo and the 2002 womens' singles winner here,
Serena Williams. Struggling with motivation and health issues lately, Serena looked, for lack of a better word, HUGE. Her tremendous biceps (and backside) were on display as she whacked balls with her male hitting partner, as her mom (and coach) stood behind the baseline watching them practice, and demonstrating the proper technique to Serena as she grew frustrated at her own form. As if mom knew anything about tennis. Although Serena obliterated
Ashley Harkleroad, a really hot not-so-great player
appearing soon in Playboy (
formidable!), that day, she lost in the third round to an unknown. Me thinks maybe a new coach is in order.
After subsisting on ice cream and granola bars the first day, I braved the lines at the concession stands and snagged a tasty hot dog on a baguette. The prices (converted to US dollar) almost gave me heartburn, but overall the delicious food at Roland Garros easily trumps the lackluster fare at the US Open. I spent most of the day watching tennis action on the outer courts, saw some good matches and spirited cheering from the Belgian contingent (all for naught, as their temperamental bet never stood a chance). Unluckily enough, in the late afternoon the rains poured causing the tarps to be brought out, and play was suspended for the day.
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