My Rafa Dream: A Professional Weighs In

This is too good not to share.

A friend and LYB reader forwarded my Rafa dream post to a fellow tennis player and psychologist, Beth Freed. In response, Beth offered up her professional analysis of the dream, starting with my half-assed remark in the comments section about flip-flops signifying an abrupt change of mind:

Continue reading “My Rafa Dream: A Professional Weighs In”

My Mysterious Rafa Dream

If you’ve been paying attention to this blog, you know I have a celebrity crush on Rafa. (Every marriage establishes its own set of rules. In mine, I’m allowed one celebrity crush. My husband isn’t allowed any.)

So maybe it isn’t surprising that Rafa appeared in my dream last week. Sounds hot, right? Alas, as with so much in middle age, it turned out to be a major disappointment.

Here’s what happened: A friend and I buy tickets to a tennis tournament. For some reason—covid, maybe?—few people are in attendance. We score courtside seats in rickety metal bleachers, looking right along the baseline where Rafa is playing.

A ball rolls to the side of the court nearest me. There isn’t a ball kid in sight, so I decide to be helpful. I stand up, and it’s here that we get our first good look at what I’m wearing: a floppy pink hat, shorts intended for a much younger person, and orange flip-flops. I climb down from the bleachers as gracefully as one can in flip-flops and a big hat and noisily flap my way over to the ball. I toss it to Rafa. It’s a terrible toss, much as it would be in real life. It’s way off the mark and dribbling along the ground. Continue reading “My Mysterious Rafa Dream”

On GOATs and STOATs

The Australian Open is officially underway, which means Fashion Face-offs are right around the corner. A concerned reader advised me to write a couple of “warm-up” posts before tackling the face-offs. I guess it’s been so long I might hurt myself. So here’s a nice, gentle stretch of a post to ease back into things…

Last night was kind of crazy, wasn’t it? The Super Bowl and the Australian Open starting at the same time. It was hard to know what to watch—there were a lot of GOAT storylines between those two events. Continue reading “On GOATs and STOATs”

Acronyms, Masks, and Half-Assed Musings

It’s a LittleYellowBall smorgasbord today. A tennis tapas, if you will. A buffet of thoughts, none of which merits its own blog post but which together just might add up to a crunchy and satisfying blog salad. Continue reading “Acronyms, Masks, and Half-Assed Musings”

Aces for Australia

Could I be turning into a Nick Kyrgios fan?

Not of his tennis—I was always a fan of that. But of him as a person. The temperamental Aussie may be finally winning me over.

I imagine he’s won over quite a number of people recently. You’ve probably heard of his pledge to donate $200 for every ace he hits during the Australian tennis season to support victims of his country’s devastating wildfires. That’s a hefty pledge for someone who serves as many aces as Kyrgios does.

Under that brash exterior lies a heart of gold. Meanwhile, I sit behind my iPad snarking about everybody’s clothes. Kyrgios is putting me to shame. Continue reading “Aces for Australia”

My Tennis Resolutions

There are two types of people. Those who like New Year’s resolutions and those who don’t.

I’m firmly in the camp of resolvers. I love envisioning a new and improved version of me, one in which I’m flossing religiously and filing all my paperwork away and running 10Ks and drinking juiced kale for breakfast. That me is friggin’ awesome. Continue reading “My Tennis Resolutions”

Gongoozling in the Digital Age

Have you forgotten our new vocabulary word already? Gongoozling means to be a spectator. (It also means something else which is NOT the subject of this post.) Go retake our vocab quiz if you need a refresher.

My (now frozen) shoulder still has me sidelined, so instead of playing yesterday, I gongoozled. I couldn’t watch my own team—they were playing an away match and I didn’t have time to make the trip. Instead, I watched one of my club’s other teams play its home match. Such inspiring tennis!

Here’s something I noticed yesterday, and not for the first time. I was talking quietly with another gongoozler when I overheard someone say, “Oh, wow—great shot.”

I looked back to the court, but of course I’d missed the whole thing. “No matter,” an inane voice in my head piped up. “I’ll just rewind it.” Continue reading “Gongoozling in the Digital Age”

Holiday Tennis Gifts

Happy Cyber Monday, guys!

If you’re tackling your online holiday shopping today, check out the gift shop at the International Tennis Hall of Fame.

The shop stocks some nifty tennis-themed items, like Sugarpova candy, adorable ball-and-racquet cheese spreaders, fun hair ties, tote bags, vintage tennis can thermoses, and much more. They’re perfect for that special tennis player or blogger in your life. Continue reading “Holiday Tennis Gifts”

Powerball Tennis

Have you bought your Powerball ticket yet? If not, don’t bother because I’m going to win.

The grand prize for tonight’s drawing is expected to be worth $750 million, but I’m going to take the lump sum of $465.5 million. I have big plans for that money.

Of course, while my accountant’s quite good, even he isn’t going to be able to save me from a hefty tax bill. $465.5 million minus 37% to Uncle Sam leaves me with a paltry $293 million.

I’ll set aside a sensible $20 million for my retirement needs: healthcare, food and boring crap like that. And I’ll also set aside $100 million for my daughter. (That seems like enough, right?)

So I’ll have $173 million left to play with. Here’s how I plan to divide it up for the ultimate tennis life: Continue reading “Powerball Tennis”

A Sad Day for Cougar Tennis Fans

Noooooo!!!!!!!

That’s the cry heard around the world today as we learned that Rafa Nadal has finally gotten engaged to longtime girlfriend Xisca Perello. (Actually, he popped the question back in May, but they kept it secret until now…which is kind of weird.)

I haven’t been this distraught since Bjorn Borg married. Why do my tennis men forsake me?!

I’ll pull myself together and be back with our Worst-Dressed fashion face-off on Friday.

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