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The Margaret Court Cup Team
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The Dubler Cup Team
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The Baby Jesus statue the players brought to all their matches
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Gretchen Magers, former US Open, Wimbledon and French Open Quarterfinalist is blogging from Mexico City the site of the ITF Senior World Team Championship. Gretchen played on the WTA tour for over a decade reaching a top world ranking of #17 in the World. Magers is currently the Women’s Tennis Coach at San Diego City College.
Entry #7 - April 4, 2010
Well, this may seem sacrilegious to you, unless you have seen "Talladega Nights." We needed some divine intervention today, so we called in Baby Jesus. He has been sitting with us for our matches and even made a trip with the Women's 35 team on Wednesday.
The day started off pretty darn well, with Fran winning 6-0, 6-3 at the No. 2 singles slot. She did not miss a ball for the first 15 minutes of the match. The way Fran was playing you would think she was back home in Tennessee playing at sea level.
Things were looking good -- that is, until I started playing. Yesterday's match against England had taken everything I had mentally, physically and emotionally. I was really stiff and sore when I woke up and called on any powers that be that could help "Blocaid" a powerful Mexican anti-inflammatory and Naprosen combo, an ancient Chinese herbal strip strapped to my back, emu oil from Ramona, Calif., for my shoulder and castor oil on my tennis elbow. Let's see, did I leave anything out? Oh yeah, and an Ibropropen chaser when I was down 4-1 in the first set.
The "flow" was non-existent. Fran brought me a coke thinking that might help. Ummm, not so much. Marielle, the French captain and my opponent, was looking pretty good, sitting on a 5-1 lead. I don't know if she choked (probably) or I started playing better, but I somehow inched my way back into the set. Marielle is French... did I mention that? She plays with French flair and seemed to pull rabbits out of her hat when she needed it, except when she didn't.
The matches at altitude are streaky affairs. One person seems to get all the breaks and then things go south and then the other person is on a roll. Today I never really got on a roll. It was hard to string the points together. I double faulted more this week than I probably did in my whole college career. Anyway, I couldn't string shots together today but somehow managed to get some games and forced a tiebreaker. She was ahead, I was ahead. She screamed, I screamed. She double faulted, I hit the back fence on a service return. It was definitely a test of character -- or lack thereof.
I can't explain it, but I won the first set. The second set I competed better and hit out a little better and focused, but I couldn't find the court on the points that mattered, and Marielle took it, 6-2. We took a bathroom break, and I put my feet in the pool, changed my shirt and washed my face. It was remarkable how all the pain killers had kinda put me in a Happy Gilmore-like “happy place.” I was playing pain free, and I felt pretty strong. Yet I wasn't really thrilled with the rhythm of the match and my inability to get ahead and stay ahead. At one point in the second set, I set up the point in textbook style and had a routine open court cross court for game point. It sailed long by about three feet. I literally laid on the court in frustration and said, "I can't do this!" But you have to. You get up, take deep breaths and try to convince yourself that, "No, actually, I can do this, and what I really want to do is see if I can string enough points in a row to win the 3rd set."
We start the 3rd set, and I played a strong 1st game, proceeded to blow my service game and then race to a 40-15 lead to go up 2-1. UGHHHH! Unforced errors and some strong play from Marielle, I'm down 1-2. I'm starting to get PO-ed again, and I did some deep breathing and just tried to be smooth on my first serve. I hit a good, deep serve to her backhand and moved forward to volley. Marielle hit the ball hard and low to my forehand volley. I scrapped up a low inside-out slicey number to the open court. As Marielle ran after the ball that was sliding away from her, she cried out in pain. She had pulled her calf muscle. She could not continue.
The doubles was not played, and the U.S. got to take home the cup for the 45 Women's event. It didn't feel like a win. She got injured, and she lost. It felt more like Marielle got voted off the island for being weak. It was not won by skill but lost because her body gave out before mine. Not a fun way to win a championship, but we shook hands and said "merci."
So Baby Jesus came through for us. We had the good luck, and the French team had the bad. Ironically, in the men's 45 on Court 1, the No. 1 Italian player got injured, and France won by default. They also took home the Dubler Cup, 2-0. All in all, the USA had a great day. There were lots of smiles in the lobby of the NH Hotel. Me, I'm just glass it's over and I can stop putting castor oil on my elbow!
Well, the good news is that with a little finesse the yard sale was successfully wedged back into my suitcase. I gave Carmen (the towel lady) my worn out Nikes, and Marseille (French opponent who blew out her calf yesterday) an old USA jacket, so I made some room for: 2 maracas, 1 sombrero, a cool embroidered shirt, a Mexico National team shirt, some small trinkets for my kids and odds and end mementos from the teams we played. It should all fit, right?
We had a nice team dinner at -- you guessed it -- a Mexican food restaurant, where we could sit outside and watch the world go by. We had a nice meal and toasted our good fortune and the fact we had no DRAMA. A quote I recently found was, "When you are living in the past or in the future, you are creating drama!” No DRAMA is a good week for 4 women and Willy working together to try to win the Margaret Court Cup at 7,000 feet with pressureless tennis balls and hot, dry conditions.
It was a short night, as today is the beginning of daylight savings time in Mexico. My alarm was set for 5:45 a.m. to catch a taxi to El Autobus Terminal Norte for the 3 1/2 hour trip to San Miguel Alllende. I have wanted to visit this artist colony for many years, and this is as close as I have ever been. I had been a bit nervous about riding in the bus by myself (remember the quote about creating drama), but it was a breeze, and I only had to speak about two sentences of Spanish to get my bus ticket and get on the right bus. The drama I had created in my mind was that I would get on the wrong bus or have to change buses or ... or... I was so wrapped up in traveling alone that it motivated me to take Spanish lessons the past few months.
Anyhow, I am now safely tucked away in a beautiful bed and breakfast in colonial San Miguel. My friend, Donna, who is one of the many retired ex-pats living in Mexico, has met me here for some shopping and relaxing and gabbing. A few days of down time before re-entry to life as I know it back home in San Diego.
Before lunch, Donna and I popped in the cathedral to take a peak and were treated to Easter mass. We lucked into a seat and got sprinkled and took communion. A great way to start our mini-vacation -- clean as a whistle.
One last travel note: when you hear the firecrackers popping on Easter Sunday at 12 p.m., the town folk are blowing up piñatas to represent Judas, the notorious disciple who betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver.
Hasta Luego y Gracias Association de Tenis Estados Unidos for a wonderful experience in Mexico. Happy Easter and thanks for following my trip to Mexico City for the ITF World Team Champs.
Gretchen
Entry #6 - April 3, 2010
Okay Yard sale is still going on. Lost my sunglasses on either the boat trip in Xochimilco or the Frida Kahlo Museum or at the pharmacia where I had to buy emergency hair conditioner.
So today was a mooch off of Fran for sun glasses day. So far, in the one week that I have been in Mexico I have left my purse on the aeroplane in Cabo, lost my credit card (it was in my jeans) and now my sunglasses and actually that's pretty much how it goes in San Diego, too.
And, oh yeah, I left my flip video camera in the restaurant after we went to the Cathedral on Palm Sunday. I have been rescued by the 5-6 very kind and generous Mexican people. Somehow, I think they understand how "yard sales” can happen.
Anyway, at 10:00am I laid out my yard sale on a big white towel from Carmen. Carmen and Sylvia are the locker room attendants at the Lomas Verdes Tenis Club. Carmen sets me up with a locker and a fresh towel for 10 pesos a day (about 80 cents.) She is so great and every morning she rattles off about 4 sentences in Spanish. I only reply with a big smile and "gracias.”
So back to today’s activities, I laid out my big white towel, my Rolling Stone magazine thinking I would read the article about Shawn White, snowboard king and again, the contents of my Dunlop tennis bag are vomited out onto my big white towel. I had a power bar, my iPod, my shoes, my various water bottles and guitar. We were settling in for what we think might be a battle.
Mariana has a rematch of our 2009 Cup in Majorca against England against a crafty lefty named Rachel. Rachel started out great only missing one ball in the first three games, and raced to a 5-2 lead. Mariana galliantly fought back but dropped the first set 6-4. Mariana looked good at the beginning of the first set getting up 3-1 but today Rachel would not be denied. Mariana dropped the match 7-5 in the second set.
It was too bad it was over because Renata, Willy and I had started a very interesting conversation about situation ethics and it was interrupted by the end of Mariana's match. Oh well, off to the salt mines.
I started serving against Sue Webb and things were going along pretty well when all of a sudden pretty much everything I hit was out by about 6 inches. I really don't want to talk about it so let's just say that it was a battle of chip and charges and tentative ground strokes and lots of double faults from both of us.
Playing at 7000 feet is a challenge and it really is who keep the coolest under the really adverse environment. Sue played better than I did and she fought until the end. I squeaked out a 6-4, 7-6 win or rather non- loss.
It was not pretty. So it came down to the doubles. I am paired with Renata Marcinkowska. I have known Renata for 25 years as she was an All-American at Oklahoma State University with my buddies Mary Boudreaux, Lori McNeil and Robin Lamb. Renate is a brilliant woman, who writes and paints and thinks. She is a wonderful person to travel with, eat with, talk about life with and I couldn't have more confidence in her as my partner.
We started really well and got up 5-2 pretty quickly. The second set was more of a struggle. We dropped Renate's serve and got down 3-1. We hung in there and squeaked out a 7-5 second set.
We had planned to play some beach tennis with England after the match as the Lomas Verdes club has a beach volley ball court. We were all extremely "buggered" as the say in the UK. Before the doubles match, we agreed that “winners buy the beers. So we shared a few beers and laughs. Most of the laughs were set around what it means to be a 45 year old woman.
We have teenager stories and relationship difficulties, and menopause issues, hormone replacement issues...It's actually kind of comforting to realize that around the world we all have similar things we need to go through to get to the other side.
As for the rest of the US Teams, our 45 men's team had a really tough day against Italy. Kelly lost a heart breaker 8-6 in the 3rd on some really crazy controversial points at the very end of the #2 singles. Andy lost his singles and Rick and Tomas won a meaningless doubles match.
The dinner table talk was that we have 5 teams competing for Cups in the finals tomorrow. Everybody looks tired and are walking a lot slower than they were yesterday. There is lots of Ibuprofen being passed around at meals.
Tomorrow is the day we have been waiting for: finals day and playing for the cups. Goodnights sleep and hope that the aches and pains of today will magically heal overnight.
PS: Frida is one of my she-roes. When I was being such a wimp on my service returns today, I asked myself "What Would Frida do?”
Entry #5 - April 2, 2010
Have you ever seen the “What’s in your Bag” clips on the Tennis Channel? I think I could go away for a long weekend with the size of bag the tennis players at the ITF World Championships are carrying onto the court. Who needs six rackets anyway? Roger Federer and Andy Roddick maybe. I broke one string last year and was pretty damn proud that I did too. So, I brought two rackets to Mexico City. I am very lucky to have two rackets. They were expertly strung by the one and only, Mark Truver, aka the “Racket Doctor.” My earliest memories of tennis were watching Chris Evert and Billie Jean King walking out on the courts at Wimbledon carrying their rackets (maybe two-three) in the crook of their elbows. They would walk over to their chairs with that focus face and unzip their Wilson racket cover and then go to the net for the coin toss. I don’t even remember them carrying a purse or anything else; just their rackets. Do you remember when Borg would walk out on the court with his armful of rackets? Now that was cool. I remember going in front of the mirror and trying to hold my racket just right so I looked like a player. Still working on that one :)
Well, here is the story I want to tell. It’s the reason my beach tennis doubles partner, Lindsey Buechler, calls me “Yard Sale.” I believe it is an affectionate nickname but I am not 100 percent positive about that. If you see her before I do will you ask her for me? Beach Tennis USA brought Beach Tennis to San Diego in June of 2007. There was an ad in Tennis Week for $1000 in prize money for the winners of the tourney. I was all over this. Now, who could I convince to play tennis in the sand with me? To this day I am still not sure why Lindsey said yes but she agreed to be my partner and we set up some practice matches with Tiffany Worst at the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club. If you have never played beach tennis it is simply tennis on a lowered net on a beach volleyball court. It is all my favorite parts of tennis: serve, volley, drop volley and smashes. No stinking ground strokes required.
So it’s the day of the Beach Tennis Smash and I am meeting Lindsey at Mission Beach not having a clue what we are getting into. Lindsey is a former All-American volleyball player at Arizona who played professional beach volleyball and now plays competitive league tennis in San Diego. Lindsey, no stranger to the beach, is in her bikini has a perfectly matching beach bag with one tennis racket, a towel and sunscreen. Picture Chris Evert in all white at Wimbledon with her two Chris Evert autograph rackets; this is how together Lindsey looks. She meets my family at the curb to watch the Magers Family unload for the beach. Two surf boards, one boogie board, an umbrella, cooler and two large blue IKEA bags filled with towels, a football, and various other paraphernalia too numerous to mention. Lindsey did not even say hello, “Yard Sale" is what she says.
These tennis matches at the ITF take several hours. We arrive at the courts around 8am for our 10am match. We warm up with our team for 30 minutes than the other team has the court for 30 minutes. Then there is the hand shaking and picture taking and exchanging of small trinkets. Then there are warm-ups with your opponent and then finally the No. 2 singles starts off the competition, followed by No. 1 singles and then doubles. We get done in the middle of the afternoon. There is a lot of watching tennis and a lot of hanging around so you need to pack your bag with down time in mind. You need a change of clothes, some snacks, and of course some toys. This is where “Yard Sale” comes in. So, I am watching Fran’s singles yesterday and I look down at the pile around my chair. The entire contents of my Dunlop back pack are strewn around me. Lindsey’s voice rings in my ear: ‘Yard Sale.’ I’m thinking maybe I should try one of those new fangled six pack tour bags then maybe, just maybe, I could keep my yard sale all in one spot.
Entry #4 - April 1, 2010
$(*&*(^& Translate that as you wish. Okay this is not real money. Do you remember about 20 years ago when the Mexican peso went crazy with inflation? And the Mexican government had to reissue new pesos? Well things were going pretty darn perfect. For dinner last night we went to Le Refugio de Fonda, a favorite authentic Mexican restaurant of the tennis players staying at our hotel. The waiters are wonderful and speak great English and really want you to have a wonderful meal. We paid and left the restaurant and Jose came after me. He told me the $500 peso bill I gave him was not good. It was an old bill and he could not accept it. He apologized profusely. As I walked back to the hotel I tried to figure out what had happened. As I entered the lobby who is there but Jesus. Not JESUS but mi amigo "HEY- SUS, " the bell man who had told me I was his guest upon my arrival at the NH Hotel. He greeted me with a big smile. I did not smile back. "Jesus, Un problema." Jesus explained that these were old bills. I retraced my steps from the ATM where I took out the pesos, to lunch at the tennis club to the Museo de Anthropologia and the taxi ride from the museum to the hotel. Ahhhh! The taxi driver. We had been told to be careful with the taxi drivers only take registered tourist cabs. Well it was very much like the scene from the sting. “I’ll give you two 10s for a $20 ... no change that.... how about you give me a 20 for two $5s. Note to self: "Do not fill your brain with crazy Mexican archeological big words and then try to make change with a taxi driver."
Anyway live and learn. Steve (mi esposo) calls this the revolving door. When you lose your sunglasses, someone else finds some, when you find a $5 somebody else losses it...in the end it all comes out in the wash.
Today is tennis day No. 2 Ireland’s Leslie O'Halloran is a great player who played collegiate tennis in the States. A tall strong lefty. Playing No. 2 singles is Captain “Doctor" Fran Chandler. Fran is fast as lightning and has laser beam focus. Fran rarely makes an unforced error. Poor Carmen, she has no idea what she is in for. Should be another exciting day of tennis.
Later. that same day. Fran (USA) smoked Carmen at No. 2 singles. Leslie O’ Halloran (Irish No. 1) crushed some serves and hit three balls over the fence on the fly and hit the highest shank I have ever seen in my 35 years of playing tennis. And of course the ball landed in on my side of the court and over my head off the bounce and Leslie sneaked a forehand passed me to win the point. On it I crossed over the net (totally illegal in ITF events) and pretended to ring her neck but put my hand on her shoulders and said nice shot :). Luckily, I did not get a point penalty for disobeying the rules. We had a pretty tight first set. I was up a break 3-1 when Rick Leach started heckling me. We played next to the men’s 45 team again today and Rick thought it was funny that Leslie’s serve was harder than his. He also said that Leslie must be Sara Gomer’s twin sister. Yesterday Rick and I were reminiscing about playing on the USA junior teams that went to the Italian, US Open and Wimbledon Junior events. In 1982, I lost in the first round of Junior Wimbledon 8-6 in the third to Sara Gomer (UK) in the dark at 9:30pm on grass courts that were so wet and soggy the balls were brown. Rick thought it would be a great idea to remind me of this devastating loss from 28 years ago as I was about to serve at 3-1. I proceeded to double fault three times in that game and finally pulled put the set 6-4. The second set was a bit more routine 6-1. In the doubles against the Irish, Renate and Mariana blasted Leslie and Grace 6-0 in the first set and then Leslie turned it on and the U.S. dropped the second 6-1. Mariana and Renate came through with a strong third set win.
Meanwhile the guys tooled Turkey 3-0 and Rick Leach played singles. The last time I saw Rick play singles was at USC in the late 1980s. Any ways he was smooth as silk and again it was great to watch them play next to us. In the No. 1 singles s match Kelly almost ran into another pole. Geez, never a dull moment here in Mexico City.
The guys 45 have England on Thursday and Our 45 women’s team plays England on Friday. Another day to see the sights of Mexico City. On tap for Thursday: Frida Kahlo Museum and The Xochimilco floating gardens.
Hasta!
G
Entry #3 - March 31, 2010
Well I guess it had to happen. It was time to play tennis. That is why we came of course. Enough Pyramids and Palacio de National and bell towers of the cathedral. It was mano y mano vs Mexico. That is pronounced (Mexico) for you gringos. We played on beautiful cancha numero uno with a lovely shaded spectator area, which was great for our fan club which consisted of Willy (Fran’s husband) Layla and Tony (my loyal tennis student from San Diego that came to visit cousins and watch me play) and about 20 supporters of the Mexican team. We luckily played right next to the U.S. Men’s 45 team so we had some great tennis to watch on both Courts #1 and #2.
Mariana Hollman started us off with a solid No. 2 singles win. I played No. 1 singles against Maluca Lamas. She had a great spirit and we had some pretty lively points. Fran and Renate looked great in their straight set doubles win. On court numero dos the American men whipped the Japanese team and only dropped seven games in all three matches. It is always fun to watch former Wimbledon and US Open Champ Rick Leach play doubles. His partner Kelly Ward has literally sacrificed his body for the good old USA. The details are a bit sketchy but Kelly ran down a ball in practice and somehow collided with a wall. If you are unfamiliar with Mexican architecture and the sometimes haphazard placement of walls, steps, doors etc this may sound completely bizarre. But Kelly was running and somehow a wall hit his leg. Those of you familiar with the way things are done in Mexico are shaking their heads saying yeah I can see how that happened.
Speaking of Mexican Architecture, Willy and I did an afternoon jaunt to the Museo de Nacional de Antropologia. The architecture of the building was simply magnificent. This museum is not for the weak at heart. At dinner tonight, Renate asked,"Was it fun?" Mind blowing, overwhelming, exquisite and humbling are better words. Our mission was to actually put together the story of the Teotihuacan pyramids we visited yesterday and possible learn how to say "Ta-oh-two- wa-chan. " Here is the tip of the day: if you find yourself in Mexico City in the Museo de Anthropologia in the Teotihuacan exhibit, find the movie theater (it is kind of hidden behind a fake pyramid) watch the movie and read the English subtitles, otherwise you won't have a clue. We also rented the audio tour which was helpful for about a half hour before the brain gets totally full of information and all the words start to blur together: Quetzalcotal, Teotihuacan, Moctezuma... by the time we hit the Mayan exhibition I couldn't even spell my name.
Finally back at the hotel, it seemed like the USA teams had a great day. We think everyone had a win on day two but we hadn’t heard from the women’s 35 team captained by Mary Dailey. Hmmm... I’m sure we will hear about it at breakfast. We play Ireland tomorrow. Should be another beautiful day in D.F with sunny skies, 78 degrees and 7000 feet. A great day for tennis. Can’t wait.
Entry #2 - March 30, 2010
We like Mexico. We being Steve, Matt, Katie and Marin also known as the Magers. We used to spend a lot of time in Baja surfing, camping, eating and shopping as it was a fun cheap place to take the kids and only about a half hour from home. And then 9/11 happened and what used to be a 45 minute border crossing became a three and a half hour ordeal. Pile on two years of drug cartel turf wars and needless to say we get our fish tacos at Rubio's in San Diego instead of Taco Juniors in Rosarito.
“You are going to Mexico City? Do you feel safe? Don’t you know that there was a drug related massacre of 10 people outside of Mexico City last month?” Yes I know… and I smile. Traveling to me is an adventure. It’s an education and I rarely if ever have I come home from a trip saying that it wasn’t worth it. Even the bad trips are life lessons. Trying to think of my worst trip ever: let’s say being 17 traveling alone and waiting for two long days in the Miami airport for your passport to arrive from the Japanese Embassy was not the best of times.
Tennis has been my ticket since I was a young girl. I started playing tennis when I was 11 and, being from Pittsburgh, it became apparent I was going to have to go places to get some more competition. My parents could not have been more supportive of my desire to travel and play tennis. Now as a parent of three teenagers, I can’t believe the things my parents let me do. When I was 14 my dad handed me a ticket to NYC to play the Easter Bowl and basically said, “When you get of the plane go to the taxi stand and ask to go to the East River Tennis Club. Good luck!” I was too naïve to know that this was not normal or terribly safe. All I knew was that I wanted to play tennis. I got off the plane and into a cab and I will never forget the taxi drivers face when I showed him the address. “You know where dis is?” he said in some vaguely Middle Eastern accent. After many u-turns and untold number of times of asking for directions, we found the club tucked under the bridge. The tennis bubbles gave it away. Slightly shaken up from the cab ride, I walked into the tournament headquarters and looked up at the draw. Girls 14’s on line 1. Andrea Jaeger. Jeez she is supposed to be really good. Line 2. Gretchen Rush. My heart sank into my stomach. Not a good draw. Not at my first national tournament. I spent a long week traveling from my housing in Long Island to The East River tennis Club battling to the consolation finals. My dad flew up to watch me lose a tough three setter to Zina Garrison, who was also playing in her first national tournament. Tennis has taken me to over 20 countries in 35 years of my competitive tennis life. I think the best adjective for my tennis now is that I am a tennis tourist. I will play anywhere if a fun trip is involved.
Mexico City is no exception. I have had wonderful experiences exploring Baja with my family and have had the several opportunities to travel to the mountainous colonial town of Patzcuaro in Michoucan. I have never been to such a large city in Mexico. We have had plenty of time in Tijuana and Ensenada in Baja but DF (Districo Federales) is another world. What has struck me so far in my three short days here is that even though we are in one of the largest cities in the world, the Mexican people are just as warm, friendly and generous as they are in the smaller towns we know so well.
Cesar and Ramon were easy to spot as I round the corner after clearing customs. I am greeted with friendly smiles and a nice big green and yellow sign saying “ITF Tenis.”
“Buenas Tardes,” I smile at them and practice my espanol right off the bat. “Bienvenidos a Mexico.”
“Gracias,” I reply happy to be off to such a good start. Cesar is my driver and we hit it off immediately. I politely ask him to help me practice my espanol on the way to the hotel. And the lesson begins. I quickly used up my 50 or so vocabulary words and resorted to showing him pictures of my children. In Matt's picture he is in his football uniform and our conversation quickly turned to American football.
“Que es tu favorito team de NFL? “ I asked, throwing in a couple English words to keep Cesar on his toes. “The Pittsburgh Steelers. Of course." I broke into a big grin. “I think I’m gonna like Mexico CIty. By now I am completely out of Spanish words and we recounted the glory days of the 1970 Pittsburgh Steelers in English. Cesar had played American style football since he was seven. “I love Jack Lambert.” “How do you know Jack Lambert? “I asked incredulously. We spent the next 15 minutes remembering every player on the 1976 Super Bowl Team: Joe Green, LC Greenwood. Frenchy Fugua, Terry Bradshaw, Lynn Swann John Stallworth. He knew them all. Between the two of us we named every defensive player and only stumbled on a few offensive linemen’s names.
We were at our hotel in the Zona Rosa before we could finish our conversation. Upon saying good bye Cesar offered to take our team to the Pyramids and to see Frida Kahlo's museum on our day off. “I think I like it here,” I thought to myself as I stepped out of the car.
Next I was greeted by Jesus. . No I did not have a spiritual awakening it was “Hey zeus.” Jesus took me to my room and spent 20 minutes explaining everything about the TV, the safe , the city , he got my laptop hooked up to the internet for me. We talked about music and he was very interested in my guitar. Upon leaving my room, he told me I was his personal guest and if I need anything to please call him. I probably will.
Meeting Antonio was another memorable experience we had at one of our daily trips to the Italian restaurant right by our hotel. Of course, we are starving after practice and decided to go back to the hotel and have lunch at the Italian place. Our server’s name is Antonio. Antonio spoke remarkably good English. We come to find out he grew up in Los Angeles and went to Hollywood High School. My guess is he was 26 or so. He has two children born in the states and came back to Mexico City because his wife did not have a green card. They have petitioned the U.S. government for four years for citizenship. Antonio is a U.S. citizen as are his children. His wife is Mexican born and her whole family is in Detroit. Antonio’s still has family in Mexico City and they help out with the kids. He drives an hour from outside the city to get to work. He told us they want to go back to the states but they just don’t know when that will happen. These are not stories we hear in the States. We debate building a wall from California to Texas for a gazillion dollars to keep out illegal “aliens.” We bemoan the costs of immigrants to our health care and schools. The human cost of our border issues are families like Antonio’s making incredible sacrifices to keep their families together. After lunch Antonio offers to show us around his city. “I don’t have anything to do, it would be my pleasure.” Meeting real Mexicans in Mexico helps me understand my life in San Diego. And my appreciation grows for the Mexican people who have crossed the border to give their children a chance at a better life.
Oh yeah this is a tennis trip. I sometimes forget. It’s off to the courts for some more high altitude, pressure less ball, lightening fast, and hard court tennis. Cowa bunga!
Entry #1 - March 29, 2010
Hmm....Where do you start a story... exactly right where you are this second or where you were yesterday or two weeks ago when you were dreaming about what today would be like?
Okay, I think the best place to start is the day I was dreaming about playing in Mexico City. When I found out the World Team Champs would be on hard court at altitude, I was all over it. Serve and volley, chip and charge here we come. I was scheduled to play the Mexican junior world championships here in 1980 a few days after Christmas and I never made it. Thirty years later I got another chance to come to DF.
“Mexico ," “Cuidad de Mexico " "Distirico Federales," “D.F.” These are all names in espanol for Mexico CIty. What it is not called is “De jefe “ which means the boss. Trust me I know this. DF is where were at... the ITF World Team Championships that is. You may think that isn't very good English but where I am from (Pittsburgh, PA) that is just how we talk. Mexico City is a separate entity just like Washington, DC is back home. This may or not be important to you but it all starts to make sense when you spend time getting the lay of the land. Today after practice, we made a trip to the cathedral to witness Palm Sunday Mass. Renate Marchinkowska (also on the 45’s Margaret Court Cup) actually touched the Cardinal's hand as the processional moved past us. After mass we peeked in the Palacio Nacional to see what that was all about. There are three murals that show the history of the Mexican people through pictures… Just our speed after standing for over and hour listening to Spanish mass at the Cathedral. The Palacio is one of the most historic sites in Mexican history dating back to Moctezuma in the Aztec civilization. The Palacio has a gigantic Mexican flag on the top of it and you can't miss it on the East side of the Zocalo( Plaza). Speaking of Mexico we drew Mexico in our first round match on Tuesday. That should be a fun start to the Championships.
Tonight, the Mexican Federation threw a fantastic fiesta for all the visiting teams There was the traditional parade of nations, an Olympic style torch lighting and fantastic mariachi musica accompanied by elaborately costumed folk dancers.
The competition starts tomorrow for many of the U.S. teams. Go Red , White and Blue!