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Novandy and the Web we weave

Nothing like the BNP Paribas Masters final in Paris between Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray to bring out the haters and the opinionaters – as well as a few wits – on the Internet

Nole won 6-2, 6-4, which left plenty of people unhappy about oh, gee, just about everything – Nole dominating tennis, Andy’s service problems, Nole’s supposedly “robotic” play, Andy’s seemingly fatal attraction to the net, Nole’s shouting, Andy’s cursing, their “boring” baseline rivalry, even the winner’s trophy, which looked like a small metal tree that could take out a few eyeballs. (More on that in a bit.)

For the haters, Andy is British and not Fred Perry. Nole is, well, Nole and not Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. The Net’s cloak of anonymity allows posters to voice opinions that in another era would’ve been defamatory and libelous, to say nothing of vicious. Wishing Nole would break an ankle or implying that he owes his success to steroids without any proof is stupid, mean and downright unbalanced. ...

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For Nole, love means having to say you’re sorry

Tennis, Andre Agassi once observed, is a lonely sport. A singles player is out there by his or her self, and has no one to blamed but his or her self when the match heads south. It can be particularly frustrating.

I was reminded of this after reading about Novak Djokovic’s triumph over Andy Murray 7-6 (3), 4-6, 6-0 at the Miami Open Easter Sunday. It was the third time that Nole’s pulled off the difficult double of wins at Indian Wells and Miami. He’s 25-2, a start that echoes the fantastic beginning to 2011, when he first became No. 1.  

But what some will remember about the April 5 final in Miami is the way Nole shouted at his entourage after losing the second set to Andy and grabbed a towel from the startled ball boy. This was uncharacteristic of Nole, who’s tender with children. He knew it and he apologized. ...

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Seems like old times: For Phelps, Fed – and Caro

There’s so much going on in swimming and tennis right now that my head is spinning. So let’s plunge right in, shall we?

Down Under, Michael Phelps was back in a big way at the Pan Pacific Championships, winning gold in the 100 butterly, 4 X200 and medley relays and silvers in the 200 IM and the 4X100 relay.

It’s a measure of just how talented the 29-year-old is that he can take a year and a half off and already come back this far. You have to credit part of that to luck, fate, Providence, whatever, particularly when you consider that Missy Franklin, the darling of the last Olympics and worlds, missed Pan Pacific with a sore back – at age 19. Indeed, the pictures of Phelps smiling on the medal stand, looking at his gold medal for the 100 fly, in which Ryan Lochte finished second (seems like old times) said it all.

This has been a good moment for “old timers.” Federinas, along with the press, have practically anointed a resilient Roger Federer winner of this year’s US Open, which gets underway in earnest Monday, Aug. 25.

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Are marriage and career incompatible?

celebrity couple. It was an enviable lifestyle for those yearning to be rich and famous, but McIlroy’s main motivation was to be remembered for his golf. So in May, with the wedding invitations on the way, he broke off the couple’s engagement.”

Let’s set aside the implication that marriage to Wozniacki would’ve necessarily produced a sort of Duke and Duchess of Windsor lifestyle, with the pair jet-setting from one party to another. And let’s leave off the devastation McIlroy’s last-minute exit caused Wozniacki – a subject I’ve blogged about before...

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Why Andy wasn’t dandy…

I know, I know, I should be writing about the World Cup and how Brazil couldn’t seem to catch a break – being shut out by the Netherlands in the consolation match – and whether or not Pope Francis has made a bet with Pope Emeritus Benedict re: the Argentina-Germany final.

But instead I find myself still on a Wimby high after Nole’s gutsy win, surfing the Net for tennis news. This is the delicious period before the start of the hard court season when tennis players take to the beach. (It’s one of the reasons I made the four athletes in my new novel “Water Music” two tennis players and two swimmers. Tennis players love water.) With Nole imposing a paparazzi blackout on his wedding – and kudos to him for keeping a private affair private – the paps have had to content themselves with delectable pix of Rafa in hot-pink board shorts.(Rrrrrrrr!) Which brings me to…

Andy Murray.

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