Roland Garros

A dream come true for Brad.

Pro-Tennis. Anywhere, but especially in France, one of the "Grand Slam" events.

He spent the better part of his morning of one of the only day we had in Paris riding the metro and standing in line for tickets.

But I am so glad he did.

I like to play sports. I can't say that I really care to watch someone else play, anything, but tennis, especially at this caliber, was really exciting.

We saw Novak Djokovic play against Ernest Gulbis and it was extremely entertaining.
The tennis was really exciting as it was a close match. (Clay courts slow the game down to make for a very graceful, almost dance, with two racquets and a ball.) But the show that Djokovic and Gulbis put on (they are some of the more entertaining tennis players, particularly Djokovic with his impressions), really made it fun to watch and sit through the cold and rain. And if all of that wasn't entertainment enough, the incredibly uptight ball boys were hilarious! I wonder how they make it through one match without a heart attack! They take their jobs SO seriously.

Apparently so do the fans. The "Fickle French" (as I like to refer to them since they started the match overwhelmingly in favour of Djokovic and by the middle of the game switched over to support their native player, Gulbis, were not fans of noises during the match. Not even cute little "cheers" from our lovely Avery. This sent either Brad or myself out of the arena on countless occassions. Usually, it was I who went.

There was a lot to see outside the arena though. The vendors with their scrumptious ham and cheese baguettes and tomatoe, basil, mozzarella salads in place of the typical nachos, hot dogs, and pizza in North American venues was nice. But so were the smaller courts and practice courts.During the course of the trip Brad and I often argued about who the unlucky person was on our trip--to have brought rain along on every single one of our 11 days in Europe.

Clearly, it was Brad. And this is why.

While I was outside, wandering the outskirts of the arena, I saw a mob of people following a fellow in a sharp looking suit. Two security guards flanked him on either side. I figured it was some musician or actor that I didn't recognize and after he passed, I began to cut through the crowd . . . only to brush shoulders with a young man in a tennis hat, athletic suit and a huge tennis bag that matched Brad's.

Now, I don't follow pro-tennis much more than walking in on Brad's devout tv watching and asking who's playing. But, this guy, I could recognize.

It was none other than Roger Federer, the number one rated tennis player in the world. And Brad had my camera inside.

I had nothing to sign. No pen on me. So, I said, "Bonne Chance" and ran in to tell Brad what he missed.

You can bet that the next time Avery needed to be taken out, Brad was first to volunteer. However, he wasn't quite as lucky to run into anyone famous. Mean while, I was on the inside during what was one of the most exciting rallies of the entire match.

Hmm. I think the judge would call luck in my favour.What a fabulous day. A great way to relax and unwind in Paris, no doubt!