Internet,
For all of my close friends who are wanting some sort of elaborate laugh riot of an account of my trip to Las Vegas, let's use our phones instead.
EARTH LAW: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas; says every person ever when you tell them you are going to or went to Las Vegas.
Las Vegas did, however, enlighten me to the fact that there are NO good places to grab a slice of Pizza in Jackson; sorry Sbarros.
I am shifting my attention towards the coming ATP World Tour season. Just like the respawn of any sport, it offers promise. The Djoker hasn't yet won the Aussie, Rafa hasn't yet won the French, the baselines haven't been rubbed raw at Wimby and the Americans haven't all been eliminated in the first week of the US Open. Just kidding we always make the quarters before getting our gizzards ripped out by the rest of the world.
I declared last season the Year of the Dolg expecting Novak BROkovic to fall off the top of the pedestal and Alexandr BROgopolov to make his entry into the sport's top 10. This did not happen. Dolgo peaked at 13 and Nole never fell below number 2. This bold prediction of mine was wrong for the following:
-Dolgo started the year by losing to the eventual Cinderella man of the sport, Andy Murray in the Brisbane final. He then lost to the hometown blue blood Bernard Tomic in the 3rd round of the Aussie Open. The 3rd Round would be his best finish at a major in 2012. Nowhere to go but up from here.
-Novak Djokovic is really the Apex Predator of the ATP World Tour right now. I say this about once every 3 posts on here, but the dude really is the Randy Orton of Professional Tennis. When you think about Novak Djokovic, you have to consider the cover-all court movement, the flexibility of a gymnast, the ability to hit a winner with all shots from anywhere in the court, the best backhand of all time (like Randy's RKO being the best finisher of all time) and Jelena Ristic. I wouldn't mind having her cheer for all of my Rec League matches right?
Moving forward with the new season, I have a list of 10 bros who I think will be ranked higher at the end of 2013 then they were at the end of 2012.
Ready. Set. BRO.
1. Bernard Tomic- Ok let's just get this one out of the way. Yes he has run into some trouble with the law, and he also probably threw the match against Roddick in the Open last year; we all wanted him to win but a little effort would not have killed you, bro beans. Bernie, right now, is the badass the tennis community deserves and the one it desperately needs right now. A sport full of nice rich boys is boring to folks that don't respect the game. Tennis needs a McEnroe figure back in the fold to stir stuff up. Once he drops the parental supervision on the practice court, his inner Bon Jovi can fly.
Tomic is still a budding super star. He stands 6'5", he is 200 pounds, his strokes are real clean and he has a ton of swagger on court; when he's mentally in it. I still find it hard to believe a 20 year old from a country as rooted in tennis success as Australia would have a seamless rise to the top when he can't even drink legally in the nation that boasts the most tournaments of his best playing surface.
Bernie is the kind of up and comer that would make Billy Beane's scouting table go gaga over. He is a face guy, he possesses a strong back court game, and his serve is mighty. People have not forgotten that at 19 years old he made the Wimbledon quarterfinals as an unseeded competitor. He has all the tools to be a hard court and grass force, but he has to get over the hump. A strong showing in Brisbane will prove that his shortcomings with the law don't bother him. If he makes a run in Melbourne, he can take some serious mo' with him to Indian Wells and Miami.
Best of luck bro. See you back in the top 30 at year's end.
2. Juan Martin Del Potro- Del BROtro, the Tower of Tandil, Mr. Nice Guy, Champ; all great nicknames, all apply to the current Number 7 ranked player on tour.
Del Bro was sidelined for most of 2010 having had wrist surgery. It took most of 2011 for him to return to form and he really came back into his own during the late summer months in 2012. His most notable match, unfortunately, was retiring American Legend Andy Roddick in the round of 16 at the US Open. A great match, well played on a very windy day and the spotlight was on the man opposite the net; though totally deserved for an incredible career and total bro lifestyle.
Given his size and quick hands, I fully expect Del BROtro to stay put in the top 10. He is perpetually one of the most dangerous men on a hard court when in shape. He has made it to the semis at the French before and won the US Open in '09.
I'm a sucker for the 24 going on 45 look, so I'm pulling for this dude to get into the top 5 and stay put by Year's end.
3. Alexandr Dolgopolov- As you already know, I declared 2012 the Year of the Dolg. That didn't necessarily come true as I was hoping. I was under the impression a top 10 finish seemed within reach. A top 20 finish is still something of merit for a 24 year old with many years left in his career.
We are now in Australia for the next month of the season, this is BROgopolov's time. He always brings his best to the hard courts down under. He has ultra fast hands, he covers the court like 8/10 of a Roger Federer; that's a compliment, and looks eerily similar to his coach Jack Reader; its like they planned it.
Besides having the best backhanded slice ever of all time; you read that right, look for more forehand winners from the Dolg. He gets his opponents out of sort and pounces like a chess player setting the king up for slaughter. I expect quarter final runs in Melbourne and at the Open this year and with at least a handful of guys ahead of him probably tumbling in the rankings, he could be close to an elusive top 10 finish in 2013.
4. Milos Raonic- I don't know if I like Raonic because he's Canadian and doesn't play hockey; a rarity up nort' donchaknow? It may actually be that he's Montenegrin-born and I have seen Casino Royale enough times to have it memorized. Its actually probably him constantly making his coach, Galo Blanco, do push ups during practice and then taking pictures of it and posting them on his twitter. Whatever the case, I am a fan of this guy.
Raonic is probably the proverbial prom queen on this list. Of all players on the outside of the top 10 looking in, I would say he stands the best chance of making an upward move as soon as January.
I've seen him top 150 with a serve before, all braun, all bro. His forehand leaves plenty for a tennis bro to be impressed with. Raonic also has the love of a massive country. The only love because no matter what his accomplishments may be, people don't know who Daniel Nestor is. He does have the Biebs to compete with for total super stardom in Canada, but I foresee a future Wimbledon Champion. It would do the sport a lot of good for him and Bernard Tomic to become a mainstay rivalry. Like a classic good cop/bad cop kind of thing.
My only advice to you bro, cut your hair, the NHL ain't happenin' and we don't need any hockey mullets serving as a constant reminder that a 2nd rate sport is on strike.
5. Jerzy Janowicz- Let's talk about being to BROtal Package for a minute. Jerzy Janowicz strolls into a bar, all 6'8" of him, he starts talking broken english with his polish accent, orders up some sausage and sour kraut, tells us all the story about how he beat Andy Murray in a match; the ladies go CRAZY.
Janowicz, to me, where body types are concerned, is like a right-handed Goran Ivanisevic. I don't think he actually serve and volleys; a lost art form, but he does have the frame that makes me believe he could have some serious results if his confidence and strokes continue to improve each week. He beat Murray in France using a LOT of backhanded slice drop shots to the deuce court; classic Tennis Bro Maneuver.
This guy, to me, has the look of a future Wimbledon Champion in the coming years. He's 22, moves the court well, and hits screamers. A top 15 finish seems legit to me for the ol' Jerzy.
6. Martin Klizan- You probably only know this guy as the no-namer who made a run into the round of 16 at the US Open. And that's ok because that's about all I know him for too. Martin Klizan, for everyone's information, is from Bratislava and according to his ATP World Tour page, fluent in like 45604654307650 different languages which a seriously rad tennis bro thing to do. He won 4 titles last year and considers himself a clay courter. Meaning lots and lots of success is imminent since no one does that anymore. He's ranked number 30 right now, but he could sneak into the top 20 if he plays loosely.
7. Jack Sock- This burrito stuffing, forehand smashing, reporter ignoring, lady slaying super star in the making is going to be the toast of the United States by year's end. He is still a ways off from hoisting a US Open Trophy, but I am inclined to believe that he'll beat Ryan Harrison to the punch of making a run at a major. And he'll do it the good old fashion American way, eating fried chicken and playing electric guitar solos from the song Kashmir by led zep'. That's a joke, but Mr. Sock is becoming an increasing threat to the rest of the tour the longer he stays healthy. He could break into the top 50 if he stays healthy and plays 25 tournaments or so this year.
8. Fabio Fognini- just kidding, this is him. Looky here bros, I don't know if this guy is actually going to rise up or not, I just know he's a pretty rad individual. I watched him serve out a match with cramps or something so bad he couldn't jump into his serve and he still finished. He has the Italian Warrior spirit; that's a joke, but it really happened. He also was joking around being really kick ass when he played Roddick in the 3rd round of the US Open. He's on my radar of dudes I want to see succeed. Hoping for a top 30 finish for him, and to mess around in Rome if I ever get a transatlantic phone call to do so, bro.
9. Benoit Paire/Jeremy Chardy- Not even trying to do any research on 2 faceless French guys. These 2 both had huge rises in 2012 and are able bodied and capable of continuing upward in 2013. Mainly Chardy. Frog legs and tennis, thats what France does.
10. Donald Young- Categorically speaking, when your season record is 5-24 and you lose 17 matches in a row, you can't go anywhere but up. D. Young did drop 151 places in the rankings since March, he does still play under the toxic influence of his mom and dad. He does have confidence issues. He did prove to regress in his physical conditioning in 2012.
Those are the negatives, on the positive, D. Young has a very good looping forehand that he has the ability to spray the court with. His serve and backhand are good enough to set up his forehand when he is confident enough to play those shots. In 2011 he made a run into the round of 16 at the US Open. He did it by methodically setting up points like a boxer, he counter punched but never went full defensive, he took his time and set up winners. He can hit around you, over you, or through you.
He needs a change of regime. When he gets it, he is a top 40 type of player capable of making runs deep into tournaments.
That's all I got. Though I am not a journalist, I sometimes indulge in some journalistic tendencies. Tune in tomorrow for 10 bros on tour I do NOT expect to be ranked as high in 2013 as they were in 2012.
Follow me on twitter @thetennisbro
Laying 50 on red is a mistake, bros, just low ball your bets on the roulette table.
Gin Gin
Billy Stein ~ The Tennis Bro
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
The Streak
Flags at half mass bros,
On December 8th, 2012 I suffered a loss. A crippling defeat from which it will take several years and lots of money to reprise. That faithful morning last Saturday, a sequence longer than DiMaggio's hit streak, but shorter than Fed's US Open run, came to a screeching demise.
After 3 years and 7 months, my streak, coined "The Streak" by me, came to an end. I had my first hangover since the night before my older brother Dan (@2finestein) graduated from college. May 16, 2009.
The streak carried with it, a special power, an aura, which cast mystical awesomeness around myself, and everyone who surrounded me. There were times during this speech, when I wanted to run through banners that paid homage to my awesomeness. I actually have used this as motivational speeches before; some times at parties, some times not. There were times I thought it was divine intervention, a certain assertion from above. This was a means to atone for not being very tall, handsome, or smooth with the ladies. I even once though America was going to win a gold medal in Hockey (2010 Vancouver Games) to which I still say f%*& you Sindey Crosby. My streak was like the ring in the lord of the ring films; that probably isn't a fair comparison being that I've never seen any of those movies.
To put this in terms our tennis playing fans can understand. My abusive binge drinking habits I engaged in most, if not all, weekend nights during the run I was on, was kind of like hitting a terrible a drop shot a bunch of times in a match against a weak opponent. This opponent appears weak on the surface, beats you common baseline pounder, probably isn't as charismatic as you, definitely brings a full on cooler to every match. This is poison to your average player. But when playing against your short-court game, the opponent is crippled. He/she doesn't hit passing shots when you follow your awful forehand slice in. This bro is feeding the beast, and the beast is s*&%ing volleys and smashes away constantly to the tune of a 1000 day + kind of 6-0, 6-1 winning streak.
Here's how it went down. Friday night was a combination of the following: Tacky Christmas party slash end of my friends finals slash night before a wedding kind of reunion. The triple threat.
Now Billy boy engaged himself in having a few to drink. If I remember correctly, more butter scotch shots than any man should ever want to drink ever, prior to playing 3 to 5 games of beer pong.
SIDE NOTE: Beer pong is kind of like the tennis bro/basketball bro/golf bro Mt. Olympus of abusive drinking games.
I also lost several games of flip cup, one of which a bro with elf ears on handed me some mystery punch one can only assumed was laced with the date rape drug.
Once at the bar the memory bank went completely blank.
That's how you make a long story you don't remember not very long.
Now to the painful part
So I wake up Saturday morning with the intention of fighting the noble battle of next day victory I've won every day for the last 43 months. This is an unfamiliar feeling; how badass is it that his varsity jacket is an M for Michael?
My head felt like Nick Cannon's snare during the BET Big Southern Classic #Drumline. My stomach was feeling every bit like the IMDB Rating for Major League 3. Worst part about it was that no advil was available my general area, that sh&^ ain't right. I had to cope with my foul bodily reaction to too much alcohol and 4 McDonalds Double Cheeseburgers that I consumed some time after bar hour #tennisbro.
It was around 10 am while watching an episode of Tom and Jerry that it all came full circle. I was hungover and past the stage of denial. A few times during the streak I woke up with a small headache or felt like I had something that made my stomach tickle. But they always went away by having an advil or eating something unhealthy; a dietary staple of mine.
This time, it was real. I couldn't even enjoy watching Tom and Jerry; before Rocket Power but after Rugrats on my all time list of 'toons. Through all losses come moral victories, this time it gave me a chance to kill boredom at work by looking back at how the world was the morning of my last hangover, before my 43 month streak. So here you go.
Ready. Set. BRO.
-MineThatBird won the Kentucky Derby as a 50-1 long shot.
-Jersey Shore and Teen Mom didn't exist yet; I weep.
-Top Song on the Charts was Waking Up in Vegas by Katie Perry; which is still a badass jam.
-Swine Flu was gaining mo' as an epidemic.
-Star Trek came out that night and topped the box office.
-Bieber Fever wasn't a thing yet
-memes and gifs were not the ONLY thing people posted on facebook newsfeeds when not gloating about their significant others or upset at the world.
-Rafael Nadal had NEVER lost a match at the French Open before that point. 28 straight wins, 4 titles in a row, lost in that '09 installment. He hasn't dropped one since.
-Lindsay Lohan had really only f'd up her face with cosmetic surgery at that point. She also heisted Diamonds from a photo shoot.
-The average gallon of gas was $2.25.
-No one knew who Cam Newton was.
-The dubstep revolution hadn't taken off yet.
-My mom's favorite show Glee wasn't around yet.
Then the epic heater went down and the tennis boy of the days of old become the tennis bro of today. New streak count: 4 days.
Gin Gin
Billy Stein~ The Tennis Bro
Jackson, Mississippi's Most Eligible Sexiest Man Alive
On December 8th, 2012 I suffered a loss. A crippling defeat from which it will take several years and lots of money to reprise. That faithful morning last Saturday, a sequence longer than DiMaggio's hit streak, but shorter than Fed's US Open run, came to a screeching demise.
After 3 years and 7 months, my streak, coined "The Streak" by me, came to an end. I had my first hangover since the night before my older brother Dan (@2finestein) graduated from college. May 16, 2009.
The streak carried with it, a special power, an aura, which cast mystical awesomeness around myself, and everyone who surrounded me. There were times during this speech, when I wanted to run through banners that paid homage to my awesomeness. I actually have used this as motivational speeches before; some times at parties, some times not. There were times I thought it was divine intervention, a certain assertion from above. This was a means to atone for not being very tall, handsome, or smooth with the ladies. I even once though America was going to win a gold medal in Hockey (2010 Vancouver Games) to which I still say f%*& you Sindey Crosby. My streak was like the ring in the lord of the ring films; that probably isn't a fair comparison being that I've never seen any of those movies.
To put this in terms our tennis playing fans can understand. My abusive binge drinking habits I engaged in most, if not all, weekend nights during the run I was on, was kind of like hitting a terrible a drop shot a bunch of times in a match against a weak opponent. This opponent appears weak on the surface, beats you common baseline pounder, probably isn't as charismatic as you, definitely brings a full on cooler to every match. This is poison to your average player. But when playing against your short-court game, the opponent is crippled. He/she doesn't hit passing shots when you follow your awful forehand slice in. This bro is feeding the beast, and the beast is s*&%ing volleys and smashes away constantly to the tune of a 1000 day + kind of 6-0, 6-1 winning streak.
Here's how it went down. Friday night was a combination of the following: Tacky Christmas party slash end of my friends finals slash night before a wedding kind of reunion. The triple threat.
Now Billy boy engaged himself in having a few to drink. If I remember correctly, more butter scotch shots than any man should ever want to drink ever, prior to playing 3 to 5 games of beer pong.
SIDE NOTE: Beer pong is kind of like the tennis bro/basketball bro/golf bro Mt. Olympus of abusive drinking games.
I also lost several games of flip cup, one of which a bro with elf ears on handed me some mystery punch one can only assumed was laced with the date rape drug.
Once at the bar the memory bank went completely blank.
That's how you make a long story you don't remember not very long.
Now to the painful part
So I wake up Saturday morning with the intention of fighting the noble battle of next day victory I've won every day for the last 43 months. This is an unfamiliar feeling; how badass is it that his varsity jacket is an M for Michael?
My head felt like Nick Cannon's snare during the BET Big Southern Classic #Drumline. My stomach was feeling every bit like the IMDB Rating for Major League 3. Worst part about it was that no advil was available my general area, that sh&^ ain't right. I had to cope with my foul bodily reaction to too much alcohol and 4 McDonalds Double Cheeseburgers that I consumed some time after bar hour #tennisbro.
It was around 10 am while watching an episode of Tom and Jerry that it all came full circle. I was hungover and past the stage of denial. A few times during the streak I woke up with a small headache or felt like I had something that made my stomach tickle. But they always went away by having an advil or eating something unhealthy; a dietary staple of mine.
This time, it was real. I couldn't even enjoy watching Tom and Jerry; before Rocket Power but after Rugrats on my all time list of 'toons. Through all losses come moral victories, this time it gave me a chance to kill boredom at work by looking back at how the world was the morning of my last hangover, before my 43 month streak. So here you go.
Ready. Set. BRO.
-MineThatBird won the Kentucky Derby as a 50-1 long shot.
-Jersey Shore and Teen Mom didn't exist yet; I weep.
-Top Song on the Charts was Waking Up in Vegas by Katie Perry; which is still a badass jam.
-Swine Flu was gaining mo' as an epidemic.
-Star Trek came out that night and topped the box office.
-Bieber Fever wasn't a thing yet
-memes and gifs were not the ONLY thing people posted on facebook newsfeeds when not gloating about their significant others or upset at the world.
-Rafael Nadal had NEVER lost a match at the French Open before that point. 28 straight wins, 4 titles in a row, lost in that '09 installment. He hasn't dropped one since.
-Lindsay Lohan had really only f'd up her face with cosmetic surgery at that point. She also heisted Diamonds from a photo shoot.
-The average gallon of gas was $2.25.
-No one knew who Cam Newton was.
-The dubstep revolution hadn't taken off yet.
-My mom's favorite show Glee wasn't around yet.
Then the epic heater went down and the tennis boy of the days of old become the tennis bro of today. New streak count: 4 days.
Gin Gin
Billy Stein~ The Tennis Bro
Jackson, Mississippi's Most Eligible Sexiest Man Alive
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Jackson's Most Eligible Bachelor
Howdy do everybody,
I went back to my mom and dad's house in Florida a few weeks ago for dad-bro's 55th birthday. It was at this time I noticed a People magazine on my mom's coffee table. On the cover was Channing Tatum and the text read 'Sexiest Man Alive.'
I'm not one to argue, he was in a GI Joe movie; I don't care if they were a complete basardization of all the American heroes of my childhood once stood for. He also did a movie where he totally hooked up with Amanda Bynes while it was still cool. Channing Tatum, or CT for short, is definitely probably deserving of that award, girls are still talking about some movie he made called Magic Mike.
Here in the 601, just being 23 and not yet married has to put me on some sort of short list for most eligible bachelors around. But I have to consider my most immediate competition, the 2 other bros in my office. They're both older than me and senior in rank; that's key for they make more money than me and are older so they're way more stable then this mystery man. Where they dwarf me in those 2 categories, I far exceed them EVERYWHERE else. So ladies of the Jackson metro area, I'd like to formally throw my hat in the ring and be your most eligible bachelor and sexiest man alive.
I have my most eligible bachelor resume all set here and ready for you below. It's broken into what I believe are the most important categories a sexiest man alive should have.
Ready. Set. Sexiest man alive BRO.
HOLLYWOOD LOOK
Based on what the other guy that uses my office that we "share" at work says, if I'm not the sexiest most eligible bachelor in the Tri-County Area, I'm definitely the number 1 Rob Kardashian look-alike in town. Minus the hair gel and tats. I've also been told I am quite the Michael Rady impersonator. For those that don't know he on the show The Mentalist. He was also Kostas in the Sisterhood of the traveling yaya pants. So basically I have the tall dark and handsome thing down; Very much a must have for any tri-county Most Eligible Bachelor types. I am also starting to believe people could mention anyone with a tan ever and I could be directly compared to that person. Could be wrong.
PHILANTHROPIC SOFT SIDE
I feed the neighborhood stray cats all the time, bro.
SUPER ATHLETIC
I can juggle 3 balls. I once ran from the Oxford Square back to the ATO house in a rain storm having consumed multiple adult beverages, and DIDN'T throw up. Hit 3 inside the park home runs last softball season; 'nuff said.
IDEAS GUY
I'm all over this one idea, get this: A gallon jar that is equal parts peanut butter, jelly, nutella and marshmallow, all in one. Has the idea of the perfect sammich blown your mind yet? Or if that doesn't do it for you:
A massaging chair that is a whole couch. No matter what position your in, that son of a gun is going to massage you. Sharper Image, get me paid.
THE DARK SIDE
Some times I even pull a serious face. Like when I stub my toes, or fall down the steps in my apartment and shatter a glass candle along way. Clumsiness, definitely an appealing trait in the sexiest man in the tri-county area, reminds the masses I am a human that puts my pants on 1 leg at a time. Though my true darkness will not be seen until WWE brings back the cruiserweight division and the boy from Madison County is going top rope on some chump #BlackMamba.
SEX SYMBOL BODY
The results of my double days spent inside Planet Fitness: Picture AC Slater condensed down onto The Hobbit's size. But way less back hair. Sexy right?
LIFE OF LUXURY
Major vacay time coming up in Las Vegas, probably a Prince Harry type of week. Then New Orleans on New Years, Mardi Gras warm up. Lastly something exotic for Spring Break, I'm thinking the place where the music video for Big Pimpin' was shot.
When not being the total package, I also sit around tables with my cohorts and discuss 401K plans and refinancing on home loans... Because it doesn't hurt to be educated, my friends. That's what grown ups do.
I assume now my phone and email will blow up with single ladies wanting to hubby me down. This day had to come at some point.
Check me out on twitter, ladies @thetennisbro
Gin Gin
Billy Stein ~ The Tennis Bro
I went back to my mom and dad's house in Florida a few weeks ago for dad-bro's 55th birthday. It was at this time I noticed a People magazine on my mom's coffee table. On the cover was Channing Tatum and the text read 'Sexiest Man Alive.'
I'm not one to argue, he was in a GI Joe movie; I don't care if they were a complete basardization of all the American heroes of my childhood once stood for. He also did a movie where he totally hooked up with Amanda Bynes while it was still cool. Channing Tatum, or CT for short, is definitely probably deserving of that award, girls are still talking about some movie he made called Magic Mike.
Here in the 601, just being 23 and not yet married has to put me on some sort of short list for most eligible bachelors around. But I have to consider my most immediate competition, the 2 other bros in my office. They're both older than me and senior in rank; that's key for they make more money than me and are older so they're way more stable then this mystery man. Where they dwarf me in those 2 categories, I far exceed them EVERYWHERE else. So ladies of the Jackson metro area, I'd like to formally throw my hat in the ring and be your most eligible bachelor and sexiest man alive.
I have my most eligible bachelor resume all set here and ready for you below. It's broken into what I believe are the most important categories a sexiest man alive should have.
Ready. Set. Sexiest man alive BRO.
HOLLYWOOD LOOK
Based on what the other guy that uses my office that we "share" at work says, if I'm not the sexiest most eligible bachelor in the Tri-County Area, I'm definitely the number 1 Rob Kardashian look-alike in town. Minus the hair gel and tats. I've also been told I am quite the Michael Rady impersonator. For those that don't know he on the show The Mentalist. He was also Kostas in the Sisterhood of the traveling yaya pants. So basically I have the tall dark and handsome thing down; Very much a must have for any tri-county Most Eligible Bachelor types. I am also starting to believe people could mention anyone with a tan ever and I could be directly compared to that person. Could be wrong.
PHILANTHROPIC SOFT SIDE
I feed the neighborhood stray cats all the time, bro.
SUPER ATHLETIC
I can juggle 3 balls. I once ran from the Oxford Square back to the ATO house in a rain storm having consumed multiple adult beverages, and DIDN'T throw up. Hit 3 inside the park home runs last softball season; 'nuff said.
IDEAS GUY
I'm all over this one idea, get this: A gallon jar that is equal parts peanut butter, jelly, nutella and marshmallow, all in one. Has the idea of the perfect sammich blown your mind yet? Or if that doesn't do it for you:
A massaging chair that is a whole couch. No matter what position your in, that son of a gun is going to massage you. Sharper Image, get me paid.
THE DARK SIDE
Some times I even pull a serious face. Like when I stub my toes, or fall down the steps in my apartment and shatter a glass candle along way. Clumsiness, definitely an appealing trait in the sexiest man in the tri-county area, reminds the masses I am a human that puts my pants on 1 leg at a time. Though my true darkness will not be seen until WWE brings back the cruiserweight division and the boy from Madison County is going top rope on some chump #BlackMamba.
SEX SYMBOL BODY
The results of my double days spent inside Planet Fitness: Picture AC Slater condensed down onto The Hobbit's size. But way less back hair. Sexy right?
LIFE OF LUXURY
Major vacay time coming up in Las Vegas, probably a Prince Harry type of week. Then New Orleans on New Years, Mardi Gras warm up. Lastly something exotic for Spring Break, I'm thinking the place where the music video for Big Pimpin' was shot.
When not being the total package, I also sit around tables with my cohorts and discuss 401K plans and refinancing on home loans... Because it doesn't hurt to be educated, my friends. That's what grown ups do.
I assume now my phone and email will blow up with single ladies wanting to hubby me down. This day had to come at some point.
Check me out on twitter, ladies @thetennisbro
Gin Gin
Billy Stein ~ The Tennis Bro
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The Film Script
What's up ladies and germs?
If you follow me on twitter you may see in the description that I am currently co-authoring the worst sports film ever conceived by 2 humans with my older brother. If you're not following me on twitter, do so @thetennisbro. For the record, we are downplaying everything. We are some modest mofos in my family and are really writing the best, and only, good tennis movie ever made.
The whole thing is inspired by real life that actually happened. See he's a Hollywood big shot and I'm... me. So this film is going to be totes mcgotes epic. These are our rough ideas. To be finished when we are in Vegas next month. Here is the script. By the way Wilson gets the exclusive apparel nod assuming everyone on set gets multiple copies of the t shirts that say 'I'd Hit that'. #Innuendo.
Ready. Set. BRO.
Our nameless hero, who doesn't yet have a name, though I'm thinking Dick Skywalker, any good? So Mark Wahlberg character, who I see Mark Wahlberg playing, is a boy at the US Open. Make up specialists will make him appear 9 years old again. Marky Mark hero will be a boy from Queens; but with kind of a thick Boston accent, worked when Pitt tried playing a dude from East Tennessee with an accent that stands to ZERO regions.
Nine year old Mark Wahlberg hero will be at the open watching his hero play the championship with his dad. For his dad, I'm hoping we can get the guy who played Harris in Major League, though I'll settle for Dorn if we have to. His hero is a toss up in my head somewhere between Don Johnson, Harrison Ford and Kevin Costner. How epic is this sports moving getting? So Indiana Jones wins the tournament and tosses his bandana into the crowd. Slightly over the head of 9 year old Wahlberg. It is on this day, he aspires to be a grand slam champion.
SIDENOTE: The product placement by our apparel sponsor Wilson, hasn't happened yet, but it will.
Wahly good guy has been a grinder, he's smelt glory, but never accomplished it. He is playing the Australian Open, the heat, the blue court, the tradition. He takes a spill and messes up his knee. I'm thinking an LCL/PCL deal because its the only kind of knee injury I've sustained.
SIDENOTE: Now I know all of you think an ACL accident is the only one that ever happens. But that just proves you watch football. This is tennis mofos, have some imagination.
So Dick is sidelined with injury. While he is laid up on the couch comes the rise of the villain in the film. played by wilmer valderrama. Wilmer plays the evil Spaniard Rafa Lopez; another working name, but Felciano plus Nadal equals one smooth bro, bro.
Wilmer is coached by the fire breathing jerk hole played by the blonde guy in Die Hard. These 2 are a devastating combo to the tennis world. They represent victory and intensity in the Varsity squad from D3 the Mighty Ducks kind of way. If the blonde guy is dead, Javier Bardem would make a wicked bad guy, right?
Marky Boston is at a garage sale on his crutches when he finds a familiar piece from tennis antiquity. It is the bandana that Han Solo tennis champ threw into the crowd all those years ago. He is now inspired going through rehab.
TRAINING MONTAGE!!
During this point Wilson has picked up on the budding success story and is passing out 'I'd Hit That' shirts like its Christmas...
Dick announces his intention to return to action AT THE US OPEN BIOTCHES. This happens the day before the Wimbledon final the Wilmer obviously rampages. The fire is lit on the old rivalry. To further f some s up, Dick's coach, played by Donald Draper, adds Kevin Costner to his coaching staff. Billy Chapel is bringing the field of dreams to the hard courts. I am so fired up.
With the aid of the bandana, his hero and Donald Draper, Mark Wahlberg is at his best running through the tournament. I forgot to mention, the love interest, played by Carrie Underwood, is in a total love triangle adding gun powder to a forest fire of hatred... what?
Dicky passes his previous best, the quarters and wins an epic 5-setter over AC Slater or Zach Morris, whichever has the availability to play the role in the semis. Championship showdown in the final.
It's not typical tennis bro maneuvers to talk a lot of smack before a final, but I am the tennis bro, and I want this tennis world to be malicious. Fists fly, die hard bro is encouraging Wilmer and Billy Chapel coach is talking Marky Mark straight. Carrie Underwood's heart lies with the champion.
In the greatest tennis match ever played in less than 3 days, the two duke it out. The serve of Marky Mark's power right vs the total package of Wilmer V. Like in the Roddick/Fed Miami 2012 match, it comes down to a very emotional break in the last set followed by a furious hold of serve for Marky Mark to win the match. And yeah, America wins a tennis final. BANG. What say you rest of the world? Oh and he totally wins the affection of Carrie Underwood. Greatest love story of this millennium.
Let the bidding for that script start at $100k against $200k. Talk to my people.
Follow me on twitter @thetennisbro
Gin, Gin
Billy Stein~ The Tennis Bro
If you follow me on twitter you may see in the description that I am currently co-authoring the worst sports film ever conceived by 2 humans with my older brother. If you're not following me on twitter, do so @thetennisbro. For the record, we are downplaying everything. We are some modest mofos in my family and are really writing the best, and only, good tennis movie ever made.
The whole thing is inspired by real life that actually happened. See he's a Hollywood big shot and I'm... me. So this film is going to be totes mcgotes epic. These are our rough ideas. To be finished when we are in Vegas next month. Here is the script. By the way Wilson gets the exclusive apparel nod assuming everyone on set gets multiple copies of the t shirts that say 'I'd Hit that'. #Innuendo.
Ready. Set. BRO.
Our nameless hero, who doesn't yet have a name, though I'm thinking Dick Skywalker, any good? So Mark Wahlberg character, who I see Mark Wahlberg playing, is a boy at the US Open. Make up specialists will make him appear 9 years old again. Marky Mark hero will be a boy from Queens; but with kind of a thick Boston accent, worked when Pitt tried playing a dude from East Tennessee with an accent that stands to ZERO regions.
Nine year old Mark Wahlberg hero will be at the open watching his hero play the championship with his dad. For his dad, I'm hoping we can get the guy who played Harris in Major League, though I'll settle for Dorn if we have to. His hero is a toss up in my head somewhere between Don Johnson, Harrison Ford and Kevin Costner. How epic is this sports moving getting? So Indiana Jones wins the tournament and tosses his bandana into the crowd. Slightly over the head of 9 year old Wahlberg. It is on this day, he aspires to be a grand slam champion.
SIDENOTE: The product placement by our apparel sponsor Wilson, hasn't happened yet, but it will.
Wahly good guy has been a grinder, he's smelt glory, but never accomplished it. He is playing the Australian Open, the heat, the blue court, the tradition. He takes a spill and messes up his knee. I'm thinking an LCL/PCL deal because its the only kind of knee injury I've sustained.
SIDENOTE: Now I know all of you think an ACL accident is the only one that ever happens. But that just proves you watch football. This is tennis mofos, have some imagination.
So Dick is sidelined with injury. While he is laid up on the couch comes the rise of the villain in the film. played by wilmer valderrama. Wilmer plays the evil Spaniard Rafa Lopez; another working name, but Felciano plus Nadal equals one smooth bro, bro.
Wilmer is coached by the fire breathing jerk hole played by the blonde guy in Die Hard. These 2 are a devastating combo to the tennis world. They represent victory and intensity in the Varsity squad from D3 the Mighty Ducks kind of way. If the blonde guy is dead, Javier Bardem would make a wicked bad guy, right?
Marky Boston is at a garage sale on his crutches when he finds a familiar piece from tennis antiquity. It is the bandana that Han Solo tennis champ threw into the crowd all those years ago. He is now inspired going through rehab.
TRAINING MONTAGE!!
During this point Wilson has picked up on the budding success story and is passing out 'I'd Hit That' shirts like its Christmas...
Dick announces his intention to return to action AT THE US OPEN BIOTCHES. This happens the day before the Wimbledon final the Wilmer obviously rampages. The fire is lit on the old rivalry. To further f some s up, Dick's coach, played by Donald Draper, adds Kevin Costner to his coaching staff. Billy Chapel is bringing the field of dreams to the hard courts. I am so fired up.
With the aid of the bandana, his hero and Donald Draper, Mark Wahlberg is at his best running through the tournament. I forgot to mention, the love interest, played by Carrie Underwood, is in a total love triangle adding gun powder to a forest fire of hatred... what?
Dicky passes his previous best, the quarters and wins an epic 5-setter over AC Slater or Zach Morris, whichever has the availability to play the role in the semis. Championship showdown in the final.
It's not typical tennis bro maneuvers to talk a lot of smack before a final, but I am the tennis bro, and I want this tennis world to be malicious. Fists fly, die hard bro is encouraging Wilmer and Billy Chapel coach is talking Marky Mark straight. Carrie Underwood's heart lies with the champion.
In the greatest tennis match ever played in less than 3 days, the two duke it out. The serve of Marky Mark's power right vs the total package of Wilmer V. Like in the Roddick/Fed Miami 2012 match, it comes down to a very emotional break in the last set followed by a furious hold of serve for Marky Mark to win the match. And yeah, America wins a tennis final. BANG. What say you rest of the world? Oh and he totally wins the affection of Carrie Underwood. Greatest love story of this millennium.
Let the bidding for that script start at $100k against $200k. Talk to my people.
Follow me on twitter @thetennisbro
Gin, Gin
Billy Stein~ The Tennis Bro
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Davis Cup Final 2012
How's it going bros?
I found it very hard to think of a clever addendum to the title, so let's just skip it. This weekend is the Davis Cup Final. The last professional team tennis clash of the year. Also the end to another season of a global competition the world barely knows about.
On the one hand you have the Czech Republic, their last victory in this event came at a time they were still Czechoslovakia; Lendl didn't smile back then either. On the other you have Spain, the Alabama Crimson Tide of professional tennis.
I typically don't indulge in getting super analytic, but this one is too easy; and I'm sure the tennis world wouldn't mind a few more folks actually knowing what the Davis Cup is.
I do not see this as much of a competition. The Czechs are intending to use a fast court as a means to deter the Spanish who will be playing without Rafael Nadal; whose knees are beginning to remind me the empty, dried up dirt lots next to our house in South Texas. Not a pretty scene. The speed of the court does not matter, ladies and gents. Just because the Spanish train on red clay does not mean they are feeble on the tough stuff. When you consider the potential 2 on 5 match up that could be created in this one, the Vegas odds on the Czechs will be slimmer then Lindsay Lohan after her latest coke bender.
Here is the likely match up and the bro-diction for how I see this weekend shaking out.
Ready. Set. BRO.
1st Rubber:
Tomas Berdych (CR) vs. Nicolas almagro (ESP)
Number 6 Berdy Man vs. the 11th ranked Nico Almagro. Berdych hits a massive serve with an above status quo forehand. He is dangerous as an Arkansas fan who just found out Honey Boo Boo is between seasons; no lifestyle coaching tonight. However, despite all of this, I only feel like Berdych sustains a high ranking due to major success in tournaments against slim competition. He beat Federer... like 3 years ago.
Nico Almagro is subtly one of the most efficient servers in the sport. He is always top 5 in both 1st serve % and aces. His one-handed backhand looks cool if it isn't effective. He also looks more like the guy who played David DeCoco in Inglorious Basterds.
Total toss up. These 2 are pretty evenly matched. Advantage to Almagro. Berdych doesn't ever really seem to live up to the bill when he is hyped up.
Espana 1-0
2nd Rubber
David Ferrer (ESP) vs. Radek Stepanek
The number 5 player in the world, Ferrer, vs. the most likely seeded opponent to lose 1st round of every single major draw you ever pick him to succeed in. It isn't 2006 anymore, Stepanek may be able to steel the first set, but once the mini-beast gets in his zone, the grind he'll go on will resemble Maximus in Gladiator; always does.
Espana 2-0
3rd Rubber
Stepanek/Berdych (CR) vs. Lopez/Granollers (Esp)
The Czechs are now possibly down 2 rubbers to 0 at this point. Two guys that lost the day before now have to get it back together against the team that won another totally unknown tournament, the Year End Championship, last week. Stepanek is still a great doubles player; if and only if he is playing with his partner Leander Paes. He and Berdy man do not, repeat, do not have the chemistry to knock off a confident Spanish tandem that can see the finish line.
Espana 3-0
Clean shut out for the spanish. Now assuming I am wrong, here is what the 4th rubber would feature.
4th Rubber
David Ferrer vs. Tomas Berdych
A rested Ferrer on a hard court against Berdy man playing his 3rd match in 3 days. Let's just pretend Alex Corretja wasn't confident enough in the 5th best player in the world for a second, then Feliciano Lopez will be in Prague too. He is 4-3 lifetime against the big man.
Spain wins again.
5th Rubber
Radek Stepanek vs. Nico Almagro
This is a dead rubber by this point that will likely go unplayed; making up words now. Even if the 2 squared off, 185 year old Radek Stepanek isn't going to have the weapons or the stamina to hold off Almagro for 3 sets. This could be reminiscent of the Spanish Teams 5-0 win over the Czechs in 2009.
To save you the time, or emotional commitment, might I recommend you watch college football this weekend? This match up is taking the autobahn to Ass Kick City.
Of course if this doesn't turn out to be right, I'm going to look like a real schmuck.
Follow me on twitter @thetennisbro
Another productive travel weekend, going to Miami for my dad's 55th birthday. Hopefully something cool will happen.
I found it very hard to think of a clever addendum to the title, so let's just skip it. This weekend is the Davis Cup Final. The last professional team tennis clash of the year. Also the end to another season of a global competition the world barely knows about.
On the one hand you have the Czech Republic, their last victory in this event came at a time they were still Czechoslovakia; Lendl didn't smile back then either. On the other you have Spain, the Alabama Crimson Tide of professional tennis.
I typically don't indulge in getting super analytic, but this one is too easy; and I'm sure the tennis world wouldn't mind a few more folks actually knowing what the Davis Cup is.
I do not see this as much of a competition. The Czechs are intending to use a fast court as a means to deter the Spanish who will be playing without Rafael Nadal; whose knees are beginning to remind me the empty, dried up dirt lots next to our house in South Texas. Not a pretty scene. The speed of the court does not matter, ladies and gents. Just because the Spanish train on red clay does not mean they are feeble on the tough stuff. When you consider the potential 2 on 5 match up that could be created in this one, the Vegas odds on the Czechs will be slimmer then Lindsay Lohan after her latest coke bender.
Here is the likely match up and the bro-diction for how I see this weekend shaking out.
Ready. Set. BRO.
1st Rubber:
Tomas Berdych (CR) vs. Nicolas almagro (ESP)
Number 6 Berdy Man vs. the 11th ranked Nico Almagro. Berdych hits a massive serve with an above status quo forehand. He is dangerous as an Arkansas fan who just found out Honey Boo Boo is between seasons; no lifestyle coaching tonight. However, despite all of this, I only feel like Berdych sustains a high ranking due to major success in tournaments against slim competition. He beat Federer... like 3 years ago.
Nico Almagro is subtly one of the most efficient servers in the sport. He is always top 5 in both 1st serve % and aces. His one-handed backhand looks cool if it isn't effective. He also looks more like the guy who played David DeCoco in Inglorious Basterds.
Total toss up. These 2 are pretty evenly matched. Advantage to Almagro. Berdych doesn't ever really seem to live up to the bill when he is hyped up.
Espana 1-0
2nd Rubber
David Ferrer (ESP) vs. Radek Stepanek
The number 5 player in the world, Ferrer, vs. the most likely seeded opponent to lose 1st round of every single major draw you ever pick him to succeed in. It isn't 2006 anymore, Stepanek may be able to steel the first set, but once the mini-beast gets in his zone, the grind he'll go on will resemble Maximus in Gladiator; always does.
Espana 2-0
3rd Rubber
Stepanek/Berdych (CR) vs. Lopez/Granollers (Esp)
The Czechs are now possibly down 2 rubbers to 0 at this point. Two guys that lost the day before now have to get it back together against the team that won another totally unknown tournament, the Year End Championship, last week. Stepanek is still a great doubles player; if and only if he is playing with his partner Leander Paes. He and Berdy man do not, repeat, do not have the chemistry to knock off a confident Spanish tandem that can see the finish line.
Espana 3-0
Clean shut out for the spanish. Now assuming I am wrong, here is what the 4th rubber would feature.
4th Rubber
David Ferrer vs. Tomas Berdych
A rested Ferrer on a hard court against Berdy man playing his 3rd match in 3 days. Let's just pretend Alex Corretja wasn't confident enough in the 5th best player in the world for a second, then Feliciano Lopez will be in Prague too. He is 4-3 lifetime against the big man.
Spain wins again.
5th Rubber
Radek Stepanek vs. Nico Almagro
This is a dead rubber by this point that will likely go unplayed; making up words now. Even if the 2 squared off, 185 year old Radek Stepanek isn't going to have the weapons or the stamina to hold off Almagro for 3 sets. This could be reminiscent of the Spanish Teams 5-0 win over the Czechs in 2009.
To save you the time, or emotional commitment, might I recommend you watch college football this weekend? This match up is taking the autobahn to Ass Kick City.
Of course if this doesn't turn out to be right, I'm going to look like a real schmuck.
Follow me on twitter @thetennisbro
Another productive travel weekend, going to Miami for my dad's 55th birthday. Hopefully something cool will happen.
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Wimbledon Wedding
How's it going bros?
Pardon my absence, I was off attending the wedding of a childhood friend. And to those of you who enjoy the opinions of an aspiring wrestler with limited tennis ability, this should be something like a good day. I just drank a Malibu Red on the rocks *#NEYOmagic* and feel like blogging.
This wedding, to me, was more then just the coming together of one of my 2 friends I have kept up with prior to my college years; fruits of living in 7 states in one's first 18 years of existence. It was something like a homecoming. The formal nature intertwined with the old faces of friends with weird Wisconsin accents and new folks whose impressive nature leaves a lasting impression. This wedding was like Wimbledon; assuming Wimbledon took place in Milwaukee in November.
It is no secret to anyone, I am a large fan of John Isner. He's an SEC boy who was born in North Carolina and moved to Georgia at age 18; sound like anyone else writing this? We share a mutual adoration for Shawn Michaels; though I am still inclined to believe both the Stone Cold Stunner and the People's Elbow made for better star power then the Sweet Chin Music. I even believe I resemble John Isner, minus 14 inches and 100 pounds; like anyone would notice that anyway.
Moreover, John Isner won over the respect of America, and much of the world, after defeating Nicolas Mahut in the Marathon Match at Wimbledon in 2010. The same match that spanned 3 days, 11 hours, 980 points, 183 games and some sort of out-of-control number of aces. His resolve, teamed with our mutually visually aesthetic appearance and basically same lifestyle, is the inspiration for my recount of my friends' wedding.
A Precursor: I had a lot of fun and a lot to drink on the day of the wedding. As it turns out, Milwaukee is a pretty easy place to find a drink. I had always figured that much, but this was evidence by the story I am about to tell you. I always considered myself a pretty big party guy in college and even today. But in college I never went on a virtually interruption 20-hour bender like I did Saturday. I now give you the 5 set marathon that was my drinking binge on the day of my best childhood friend's wedding. I fully expect you'll remember it like the marathon match was yesterday.
Ready. Set. BRO.
1ST SET
Saturday Morning 6 am:
I am in a house full of dudes. I slept on the floor with a pillow and a fitted bed sheet as a cover in anticipation for an early start to my childhood friend's wedding. I say this house was full of dudes, I mean this house was probably in the running for 2012 International House of Sausage Party of the Year. The groom, his 12 groomsmen and his 5 ushers, most of whom were throwers on the Marquette University track team were crammed into 1 very small house; lots of dude sweat.
What I believe to be insomnia, teamed with the temperature of the house being 500 degrees above the normal amount of adult men sleeping in such a confined quarter equaled one very early wake up call as evidence by the below equation:
Uneducated diagnosis of serious disease + Abundance of no shave November Contestants within 1000 Square feet of each other = 5 am wake up.
As all the other bros were causing a line that would remind you of a gas shortage around the coffee maker, I instead made moves towards the fridge full of beer with no line in front of it #TennisBro. Over the next 3 hours, the bro, and 17 other dudes would engage in what anyone else would do to celebrate a good buddies wedding; listen to Kashmir by Led Zep and tell old stories. I decided to drink 3 beers and stop after I reach the point where my arms fell light weight but my cheeks weren't glued in the s&*^ eating grin position.
SIDE NOTE: This state normally occurs after I get 2/3 of the way through A beer. Don't know how I lasted so long.
My ability to keep it in check and be able to be the groomsman that kept the others in fine form with my school boy charm and impressive dimples gave me the break of serve. 6-4, 1 set to 0.
2ND SET
1:30 pm Saturday
The wedding and the obscene amount of pictures necessary to take are finally over. I had my opportunities to break, but the unnecessary nature of posing in such ways that people utterly NEVER do for the pictures gets me irritated.
Full Disclosure: These can actually be a lot of fun if the groomsmen are as cool as my cohorts were at this wedding. I blame the freezing cold wind and the shade for my short patience with the pictures where 'serious faces' were necessary.
We now board a trolley car that stops at a liquor store. In typical fashion, the girls send the boys in to pay for everything including champagne that was never opened. In the spirit of being in Wisconsin, I went for the Miller Lite; which I had utterly 2 minutes to drink before the stopped the trolley for lunch. In this time I am offered a jack and coke by another groomsman; I declined thinking I should pace myself. The trolley stops and I have not drank away the pain the terrible rented shoes elicited on my feet #FAILCITY.
I am dealt a break and lose the set 3-6.
3RD SET
2:00 pm Saturday
The bridesmaids and groomsmen meet up at a very cool bar called Red Rocks. This place mistakes its existence in the Midwest for being in Texas; something I am totally on board with. The menu has brisket sliders and bbq quesadillas; which were like eating Aphrodite's tears.
I proceed to the bar to get a very Wisconsin-like beer. The bartender succeeded in giving a very dark one of some kind. I toast the death of an old friend to the purgatory of marriage with 4 other groomsmen. It is while drinking this eclectic brew and dominating some apps that pictures are taken while we sit on the bar. I'll be honest, probably would have been more rage if we had pool sticks and broken glasses and other roadhouse-type contraband, but we didn't.
I go for round 2, this time a new bartender decides she wants to card me; despite returning with a long neck in hand. She uses this as an opportunity to remind me that we're in Wisconsin and its weird that a guy from Mississippi is in her bar; gee I forgot, moron. I drink this beer down and talk shop with many people, just doing tennis bro stuff. And yet, despite having more to drink in 9 hours than I normally do in whole weekends, I am not intoxicated, I am tired.
The universe pulls a skinny break at 7 on my in the breaker, 6-7. I am getting dangerously close to losing this match.
POWER NAP.
4TH SET
5 pm Saturday
Reception time biotches. I use the 1-hour cocktail party to chat with some people I really didn't know at all year ago when I lived in Wisconsin. Truth be told, in most every case, I didn't really know most of these folks back then and was coming up a little short on things to talk about.
For the set's sake, there was an open bar.
In a span of 20 minutes I had 3 flutes of champagne. When the same waitress that was serving my the whole time asked for an ID on number 4, I turned my head to grab my wallet and she served 15 flutes of champagne to my tuxedo. When I say that I mean she spilled her whole tray of champagne on my lap. The manager, using a thick 'scayinsin accent, had this exchange with me.
-"You rented that tux right? It's not yours."
-"Yes sir, I did."
-"Ooooh okay. You want a bar rag or something?"
-"Yes sir please."
This bro came back with a bar rag and a beer; such a rad bro maneuver.
I can not tell you how many drinks total I had once inside the reception, I do know that at one point I had a champagne, cabernet, beer and empty beer in front of me; all of which were consumed. Now the boy is starting to feel the effects. My suit the next day the remnants of spilt red wine, beer and cupcake frosting on it; good thing it was a rental bros.
I manage a few NE-YO moves on the dance floor and grab road cupcakes; this set is mine mofos. I win the breaker at 3. To a decisive 5th we go.
5TH SET
Some point after telling time is no longer a capability of mine.
I am hanging out with a girl I went to high school with at this point. She is a blonde who is about as totally 'sconsin as you can get. By that I mean doesn't follow college football. We went to a bar called Trinity somewhere in Milwaukee. I ordered us a round of beers, we don't even dent them before she decides to order tequila shots.
SIDENOTE: How many tenses was that last string of thoughts in?
This is where the tone was set. We slammed our shots of whatever crap the waitress sent us and continued drinking Miller Lite or whatever other low quality brews we ordered; unimportant.
It's on now. Another groomsman ordered a round of irish car bombs. Feeling below the neck is sliding. It feels like this match has been going on for 2 days at this point. Now my lady friend from high school orders round 2 of tequila. I accept the shot knowing full well I am not going to be able to taste it or remember it; both of these prove to be false.
I am now at Stage 5 drunkness, my eyes are open about 1 mm as the lady orders ROUND 3. I tossed it back like a champion. I am gaining momentum; is this thing really spilling over to a 3rd day?
Now the memory is slipping by the wayside. I am unfamiliar with method of return to my hotel. in fairness, in a time span of some sort I have consumed a beer, a car bomb and 3 shots of tequila. I do recall saying good bye to my old friend; happy about it to given the fact it may be another decade until I head in that direction again.
Making it to my room and getting out my tuxedo was a major hold of serve. 69-68. The key to this win was waking up the next morning AFTER 8 am and free of any physical repercussions. True story, I haven't had a hangover since I was 20 the day of my older brother's college graduation. Alcohol has nothing on the bro. The actually break of serve didn't come until I walked up to my window shirtless, considerations of pure awesomeness, I proceed to beat my fists against my chest.. This catches the attention of several pedestrians on the very busy street my hotel was on, causing folks to point and one dude doubling over laughing at my awesomeness.
Break of serve!!
I take the 5th set 70-68. Judging by my text history, I would assume I wrapped up sometime around 3 am. Meaning the estimated time frame of consumption was over 20 hours. A feet I never came close to even in college. Everyone else I know is wilting away with age, I keep getting more and more awesome. There's your proof.
Congratulations to my old friend TJ and his new wife Cara. I hope y'all have a great time on the honeymoon in Hawaii and a life of happiness. Y'all better make good on my dibs call as the godfather of your kids.
More congrats go out to Novak BROkovic winning the Year End Championship. Though it still doesn't have the notoriety it should, its no picnic winning a tournament the top 8 players in the world compete in on plenty of rest. Enjoy all the points you have to defend your number 1 ranking with.
In celebration of Chad Kultgen's new novel the Average American Marriage coming out next year, my next post will be about my ledger I keep all of my work-related notes in.
Cheers
Billy Stein ~ The Tennis Bro
Pardon my absence, I was off attending the wedding of a childhood friend. And to those of you who enjoy the opinions of an aspiring wrestler with limited tennis ability, this should be something like a good day. I just drank a Malibu Red on the rocks *#NEYOmagic* and feel like blogging.
This wedding, to me, was more then just the coming together of one of my 2 friends I have kept up with prior to my college years; fruits of living in 7 states in one's first 18 years of existence. It was something like a homecoming. The formal nature intertwined with the old faces of friends with weird Wisconsin accents and new folks whose impressive nature leaves a lasting impression. This wedding was like Wimbledon; assuming Wimbledon took place in Milwaukee in November.
It is no secret to anyone, I am a large fan of John Isner. He's an SEC boy who was born in North Carolina and moved to Georgia at age 18; sound like anyone else writing this? We share a mutual adoration for Shawn Michaels; though I am still inclined to believe both the Stone Cold Stunner and the People's Elbow made for better star power then the Sweet Chin Music. I even believe I resemble John Isner, minus 14 inches and 100 pounds; like anyone would notice that anyway.
Moreover, John Isner won over the respect of America, and much of the world, after defeating Nicolas Mahut in the Marathon Match at Wimbledon in 2010. The same match that spanned 3 days, 11 hours, 980 points, 183 games and some sort of out-of-control number of aces. His resolve, teamed with our mutually visually aesthetic appearance and basically same lifestyle, is the inspiration for my recount of my friends' wedding.
A Precursor: I had a lot of fun and a lot to drink on the day of the wedding. As it turns out, Milwaukee is a pretty easy place to find a drink. I had always figured that much, but this was evidence by the story I am about to tell you. I always considered myself a pretty big party guy in college and even today. But in college I never went on a virtually interruption 20-hour bender like I did Saturday. I now give you the 5 set marathon that was my drinking binge on the day of my best childhood friend's wedding. I fully expect you'll remember it like the marathon match was yesterday.
Ready. Set. BRO.
1ST SET
Saturday Morning 6 am:
I am in a house full of dudes. I slept on the floor with a pillow and a fitted bed sheet as a cover in anticipation for an early start to my childhood friend's wedding. I say this house was full of dudes, I mean this house was probably in the running for 2012 International House of Sausage Party of the Year. The groom, his 12 groomsmen and his 5 ushers, most of whom were throwers on the Marquette University track team were crammed into 1 very small house; lots of dude sweat.
What I believe to be insomnia, teamed with the temperature of the house being 500 degrees above the normal amount of adult men sleeping in such a confined quarter equaled one very early wake up call as evidence by the below equation:
Uneducated diagnosis of serious disease + Abundance of no shave November Contestants within 1000 Square feet of each other = 5 am wake up.
As all the other bros were causing a line that would remind you of a gas shortage around the coffee maker, I instead made moves towards the fridge full of beer with no line in front of it #TennisBro. Over the next 3 hours, the bro, and 17 other dudes would engage in what anyone else would do to celebrate a good buddies wedding; listen to Kashmir by Led Zep and tell old stories. I decided to drink 3 beers and stop after I reach the point where my arms fell light weight but my cheeks weren't glued in the s&*^ eating grin position.
SIDE NOTE: This state normally occurs after I get 2/3 of the way through A beer. Don't know how I lasted so long.
My ability to keep it in check and be able to be the groomsman that kept the others in fine form with my school boy charm and impressive dimples gave me the break of serve. 6-4, 1 set to 0.
2ND SET
1:30 pm Saturday
The wedding and the obscene amount of pictures necessary to take are finally over. I had my opportunities to break, but the unnecessary nature of posing in such ways that people utterly NEVER do for the pictures gets me irritated.
Full Disclosure: These can actually be a lot of fun if the groomsmen are as cool as my cohorts were at this wedding. I blame the freezing cold wind and the shade for my short patience with the pictures where 'serious faces' were necessary.
We now board a trolley car that stops at a liquor store. In typical fashion, the girls send the boys in to pay for everything including champagne that was never opened. In the spirit of being in Wisconsin, I went for the Miller Lite; which I had utterly 2 minutes to drink before the stopped the trolley for lunch. In this time I am offered a jack and coke by another groomsman; I declined thinking I should pace myself. The trolley stops and I have not drank away the pain the terrible rented shoes elicited on my feet #FAILCITY.
I am dealt a break and lose the set 3-6.
3RD SET
2:00 pm Saturday
The bridesmaids and groomsmen meet up at a very cool bar called Red Rocks. This place mistakes its existence in the Midwest for being in Texas; something I am totally on board with. The menu has brisket sliders and bbq quesadillas; which were like eating Aphrodite's tears.
I proceed to the bar to get a very Wisconsin-like beer. The bartender succeeded in giving a very dark one of some kind. I toast the death of an old friend to the purgatory of marriage with 4 other groomsmen. It is while drinking this eclectic brew and dominating some apps that pictures are taken while we sit on the bar. I'll be honest, probably would have been more rage if we had pool sticks and broken glasses and other roadhouse-type contraband, but we didn't.
I go for round 2, this time a new bartender decides she wants to card me; despite returning with a long neck in hand. She uses this as an opportunity to remind me that we're in Wisconsin and its weird that a guy from Mississippi is in her bar; gee I forgot, moron. I drink this beer down and talk shop with many people, just doing tennis bro stuff. And yet, despite having more to drink in 9 hours than I normally do in whole weekends, I am not intoxicated, I am tired.
The universe pulls a skinny break at 7 on my in the breaker, 6-7. I am getting dangerously close to losing this match.
POWER NAP.
4TH SET
5 pm Saturday
Reception time biotches. I use the 1-hour cocktail party to chat with some people I really didn't know at all year ago when I lived in Wisconsin. Truth be told, in most every case, I didn't really know most of these folks back then and was coming up a little short on things to talk about.
For the set's sake, there was an open bar.
In a span of 20 minutes I had 3 flutes of champagne. When the same waitress that was serving my the whole time asked for an ID on number 4, I turned my head to grab my wallet and she served 15 flutes of champagne to my tuxedo. When I say that I mean she spilled her whole tray of champagne on my lap. The manager, using a thick 'scayinsin accent, had this exchange with me.
-"You rented that tux right? It's not yours."
-"Yes sir, I did."
-"Ooooh okay. You want a bar rag or something?"
-"Yes sir please."
This bro came back with a bar rag and a beer; such a rad bro maneuver.
I can not tell you how many drinks total I had once inside the reception, I do know that at one point I had a champagne, cabernet, beer and empty beer in front of me; all of which were consumed. Now the boy is starting to feel the effects. My suit the next day the remnants of spilt red wine, beer and cupcake frosting on it; good thing it was a rental bros.
I manage a few NE-YO moves on the dance floor and grab road cupcakes; this set is mine mofos. I win the breaker at 3. To a decisive 5th we go.
5TH SET
Some point after telling time is no longer a capability of mine.
I am hanging out with a girl I went to high school with at this point. She is a blonde who is about as totally 'sconsin as you can get. By that I mean doesn't follow college football. We went to a bar called Trinity somewhere in Milwaukee. I ordered us a round of beers, we don't even dent them before she decides to order tequila shots.
SIDENOTE: How many tenses was that last string of thoughts in?
This is where the tone was set. We slammed our shots of whatever crap the waitress sent us and continued drinking Miller Lite or whatever other low quality brews we ordered; unimportant.
It's on now. Another groomsman ordered a round of irish car bombs. Feeling below the neck is sliding. It feels like this match has been going on for 2 days at this point. Now my lady friend from high school orders round 2 of tequila. I accept the shot knowing full well I am not going to be able to taste it or remember it; both of these prove to be false.
I am now at Stage 5 drunkness, my eyes are open about 1 mm as the lady orders ROUND 3. I tossed it back like a champion. I am gaining momentum; is this thing really spilling over to a 3rd day?
Now the memory is slipping by the wayside. I am unfamiliar with method of return to my hotel. in fairness, in a time span of some sort I have consumed a beer, a car bomb and 3 shots of tequila. I do recall saying good bye to my old friend; happy about it to given the fact it may be another decade until I head in that direction again.
Making it to my room and getting out my tuxedo was a major hold of serve. 69-68. The key to this win was waking up the next morning AFTER 8 am and free of any physical repercussions. True story, I haven't had a hangover since I was 20 the day of my older brother's college graduation. Alcohol has nothing on the bro. The actually break of serve didn't come until I walked up to my window shirtless, considerations of pure awesomeness, I proceed to beat my fists against my chest.. This catches the attention of several pedestrians on the very busy street my hotel was on, causing folks to point and one dude doubling over laughing at my awesomeness.
Break of serve!!
I take the 5th set 70-68. Judging by my text history, I would assume I wrapped up sometime around 3 am. Meaning the estimated time frame of consumption was over 20 hours. A feet I never came close to even in college. Everyone else I know is wilting away with age, I keep getting more and more awesome. There's your proof.
Congratulations to my old friend TJ and his new wife Cara. I hope y'all have a great time on the honeymoon in Hawaii and a life of happiness. Y'all better make good on my dibs call as the godfather of your kids.
More congrats go out to Novak BROkovic winning the Year End Championship. Though it still doesn't have the notoriety it should, its no picnic winning a tournament the top 8 players in the world compete in on plenty of rest. Enjoy all the points you have to defend your number 1 ranking with.
In celebration of Chad Kultgen's new novel the Average American Marriage coming out next year, my next post will be about my ledger I keep all of my work-related notes in.
Cheers
Billy Stein ~ The Tennis Bro
Friday, November 2, 2012
Pre-Tennis Match Routine
How's it going bros?
I am so EXCITED RIGHT NOW!!!! Sam Querrey may be on the brink of something special in a totally irrelevant tournament in Paris after beating BROkovic then going big brother over Raonic; again.
More Exhilarating then that, I heard the song 'In the Air Tonight' while on the Reservoir Spillway today. I had my 'bans on, it was a total Miami Vice Moment. The only thing that could have been more picturesque would have been if ol' Alice, my jeep, had her top down.
That song gets me amped up. So much so that it is the first installment of my pre-match routine that gets me in my zone before playing a tennis match. I am a very regimental dude; and basically a total nut job. Those who played with me when I was first getting started probably remember a yelling, racquet-destroying force of douche bag nature. I realized, that is no way to bro, then decided to do way weirder stuff prior to playing. I say weird in a very liberal sense; I find what I am doing to be quite normal. But I am guessing you don't do this, and maybe you should, you may not win, but at least you'll look like a total lady-killing badass. I now lay out for you what I do to get ready for a tennis match.
Ready. Set. BRO.
I start my routine by watching the 'In the Air Tonight' sequence from the Miami Vice pilot. The weird drum thing that starts it out starts beating. Crockett goes into a phone booth; total 1984 tennis bro maneuver. He asks his wife whether or not their marriage was ever real; she says yes, duh. The song picks up, the Ferrari Daytona is rolling; drop the epic drums. The man hunt for the terrorist formerly known as Calderone is so on.
Now it's important you know I have 2 names for my apartment, The 'Rad Pad' and 'Club B'. When I am about to play tennis, its definitely Club B. I do more dancing in this tiny little cave then Club 54 did when Disco Mania plagued the nation.
I keep a list of 3 songs I listen to. The first 2 songs I listen to once, then the third song goes on repeat 13 times, and with good reason.
The first song I listen to is called "Hello" by Karmin. Which is such a badass song to wake up the body to. I follow it up with the full-length video of Smooth Criminal. MJ was without a doubt the most electrifying entertainer of all time; I'm working on being number 2. I do an insane amount of tearing up the floor in Club B to this song.
Disclaimer: The forward 45 degree power lean, definitely impossible. Met my downstairs neighbor for the first time after a little experimentation with physics gone wrong. They must use some kind of chords or something... Just messing with you, Michael Jackson could do all things with his magical powers; I bet he still haunts the Presley family.
After my body is warm and muscles are feeling loosey goosey. I go to song number 3. This song is called "Your body" by Pretty Ricky. I listen to the song 13 times in a row. My reasoning; its a great paradox in pop music. Similar to Chris Brown, the lyrics are downright offensive if you listen to them. Though you probably didn't because you were too fixated on how rad the beat to the song is or how catchy the hook is.
Disclaimer: I actually do not know the difference between a hook or a beat, but assume there is one.
When I am on-court, I have found I play best when I have this song stuck in my head. My favorite lyric is at the 1:06 mark when he says "Get a taste of the salami." Utterly the worst thing you could ever say to a girl, right? Maybe not, if I said that, it's five star to the face city BABAY, but I feel like a girl probably laughed and smiled when he said it. I often randomly start dancing on the court to this song and laugh at that one lyric when playing. If you stop and think "What the heck is wrong with this guy?" or "Look, the jawa is dancing" I have already beaten you. And we have probably thought of a great addendum for the sure-fire travesty that will be Disney's next 3 star wars movies.
Now venturing back to some of the things I do that you probably think are stupid. I speak to my racquets in spanish before I play. Ever try speaking another language? It's hard as hell, certainly makes you better to party with though.
I also tell myself all the time that I am going to do some lunges and push ups before a match to loosen up the arms and legs; never have. It is the decision each time not to do it, that is becoming something of a tradition.
After that I really just get to the court, run circles around every ball hit at me and counter punch like it's my job.
SIDENOTE: By counter punch I man build a wall around the court that is supported by mach 1 speed and determination that would make Tim Tebow pee his pants suit. absorb pace and slow it down to utilize my speed and stamina. Then dance to Pretty Ricky and remind the opponent That I am tall enough to ride the roller coaster and DO WORK, SON.
Though I would far prefer my job being the WWE cruiserweight champion of the world. The BLACK MMMMMAAAAAAAMMMMMMMBBBBBBBAAAAAA.
Next time I'll unveil the script for my a very special episode of law and order, Jackson-Style featuring the bro.
As per my predictions for what is to happen this next week, I would bet as follows:
-Federer wins the YEC; you have a better chance of beating Whitey Ford in Yankee Stadium then Fed in the O2 Arena.
-Obama wins the election
-Milwaukee November weather beats the bro; I am obligated to rage groomsmenship for a lifelong friend, even if its a November wedding in Wisconsin.
Follow me on Twitter @thetennisbro
oh yeah, and I'm going to VEGAS the right before Christmas, hope to rage face with some of you.
I am so EXCITED RIGHT NOW!!!! Sam Querrey may be on the brink of something special in a totally irrelevant tournament in Paris after beating BROkovic then going big brother over Raonic; again.
More Exhilarating then that, I heard the song 'In the Air Tonight' while on the Reservoir Spillway today. I had my 'bans on, it was a total Miami Vice Moment. The only thing that could have been more picturesque would have been if ol' Alice, my jeep, had her top down.
That song gets me amped up. So much so that it is the first installment of my pre-match routine that gets me in my zone before playing a tennis match. I am a very regimental dude; and basically a total nut job. Those who played with me when I was first getting started probably remember a yelling, racquet-destroying force of douche bag nature. I realized, that is no way to bro, then decided to do way weirder stuff prior to playing. I say weird in a very liberal sense; I find what I am doing to be quite normal. But I am guessing you don't do this, and maybe you should, you may not win, but at least you'll look like a total lady-killing badass. I now lay out for you what I do to get ready for a tennis match.
Ready. Set. BRO.
I start my routine by watching the 'In the Air Tonight' sequence from the Miami Vice pilot. The weird drum thing that starts it out starts beating. Crockett goes into a phone booth; total 1984 tennis bro maneuver. He asks his wife whether or not their marriage was ever real; she says yes, duh. The song picks up, the Ferrari Daytona is rolling; drop the epic drums. The man hunt for the terrorist formerly known as Calderone is so on.
Now it's important you know I have 2 names for my apartment, The 'Rad Pad' and 'Club B'. When I am about to play tennis, its definitely Club B. I do more dancing in this tiny little cave then Club 54 did when Disco Mania plagued the nation.
I keep a list of 3 songs I listen to. The first 2 songs I listen to once, then the third song goes on repeat 13 times, and with good reason.
The first song I listen to is called "Hello" by Karmin. Which is such a badass song to wake up the body to. I follow it up with the full-length video of Smooth Criminal. MJ was without a doubt the most electrifying entertainer of all time; I'm working on being number 2. I do an insane amount of tearing up the floor in Club B to this song.
Disclaimer: The forward 45 degree power lean, definitely impossible. Met my downstairs neighbor for the first time after a little experimentation with physics gone wrong. They must use some kind of chords or something... Just messing with you, Michael Jackson could do all things with his magical powers; I bet he still haunts the Presley family.
After my body is warm and muscles are feeling loosey goosey. I go to song number 3. This song is called "Your body" by Pretty Ricky. I listen to the song 13 times in a row. My reasoning; its a great paradox in pop music. Similar to Chris Brown, the lyrics are downright offensive if you listen to them. Though you probably didn't because you were too fixated on how rad the beat to the song is or how catchy the hook is.
Disclaimer: I actually do not know the difference between a hook or a beat, but assume there is one.
When I am on-court, I have found I play best when I have this song stuck in my head. My favorite lyric is at the 1:06 mark when he says "Get a taste of the salami." Utterly the worst thing you could ever say to a girl, right? Maybe not, if I said that, it's five star to the face city BABAY, but I feel like a girl probably laughed and smiled when he said it. I often randomly start dancing on the court to this song and laugh at that one lyric when playing. If you stop and think "What the heck is wrong with this guy?" or "Look, the jawa is dancing" I have already beaten you. And we have probably thought of a great addendum for the sure-fire travesty that will be Disney's next 3 star wars movies.
Now venturing back to some of the things I do that you probably think are stupid. I speak to my racquets in spanish before I play. Ever try speaking another language? It's hard as hell, certainly makes you better to party with though.
I also tell myself all the time that I am going to do some lunges and push ups before a match to loosen up the arms and legs; never have. It is the decision each time not to do it, that is becoming something of a tradition.
After that I really just get to the court, run circles around every ball hit at me and counter punch like it's my job.
SIDENOTE: By counter punch I man build a wall around the court that is supported by mach 1 speed and determination that would make Tim Tebow pee his pants suit. absorb pace and slow it down to utilize my speed and stamina. Then dance to Pretty Ricky and remind the opponent That I am tall enough to ride the roller coaster and DO WORK, SON.
Though I would far prefer my job being the WWE cruiserweight champion of the world. The BLACK MMMMMAAAAAAAMMMMMMMBBBBBBBAAAAAA.
Next time I'll unveil the script for my a very special episode of law and order, Jackson-Style featuring the bro.
As per my predictions for what is to happen this next week, I would bet as follows:
-Federer wins the YEC; you have a better chance of beating Whitey Ford in Yankee Stadium then Fed in the O2 Arena.
-Obama wins the election
-Milwaukee November weather beats the bro; I am obligated to rage groomsmenship for a lifelong friend, even if its a November wedding in Wisconsin.
Follow me on Twitter @thetennisbro
oh yeah, and I'm going to VEGAS the right before Christmas, hope to rage face with some of you.
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