Back Seat Mom

2013 Wow, what a great Australian tennis open. Jan got a new TV, the high definition helped me see the ball, the lines, the score board better than I had in years.

One good thing about age taking away my sight and my concentration is that I have plenty of leeway for reflecting on this and that. Jan had been asking if I’d seen Andy Murray’s mother in the stands, “She must be sick,” Jan speculated. “No,” I said, I bet they put a net over her, kidnapped her, paid her to stay away …”

Judy Murray
thanx dailymail

My wise cracks were in the context of recalling with Jan, moments before, the matches of Jimmy Connors’ youth. It seemed his mother was always on hand. No one becomes a Steffi Graf or an Andre Agassi without a tennis parent interfering with every moment. But when the player is male, turning twenty, getting on to twenty-five, and the parent is female, a mother, the relationship becomes a psychological liability for the whole sport. So: when Caesar crosses the Rubicon, we don’t want to see his mother there on the bank, it doesn’t matter if she’s got him by the ear over a cell phone.


Chrissy, Jimmy, mothers Evert & Connors

Martina Hingis’ mom coached her. Why not? Do we complain about Mozart’s father? No, but we very well, in a patriarchal culture, object like hell to yielding credit for musical genius to Mozart’s mother! The truth doesn’t matter; what counts is the propaganda. At some point Ma has got to get pushed into the back seat. Maybe she’ll still tell Sonny how to drive, but the hoi polloi won’t have her shoved under their nose as a major “cause.”

So: today’s Australian final: We see the Murray box. Up front, on the right side, the right side, get it? we see Ivan Lendl: hired by Murray as coach, as mentor. Baseball has gray haired male managers running around the field between plays, “causing” things to happen: Stengel, Durocher, Weaver … Billy Martin … Basketball’s the same. But coaches in tennis are supposed to be seen and not heard, segregated in the stands, not permitted to speak to their charges, prophylactic distance between them. Andy’s mom, Judy, can coach Andy — Olympic champ, US Open champ — but not visibly. Lendl can be (prophylactically) visible; not Judy!

In the Murray box, front left, we see Andy’s girlfriend. Pretty face, tall enough to stand near him. She even looks like Andy, looks like Judy, except her features are even: “pretty.” Judy, like Andy, looks like she’s ready to knaw on your bones, grubbing around the Scottish boggy moorland. I am not talking about truth, I am tickling myths: beliefs, appearances. Then I see Judy: she’s been pushed to the rear left of the box: way left, way in the back. She looks good, she looks great. She looks pretty herself. (Want to see a female jock strap? look at her!) Boy, they put her in the beauty salon all day and all night. I’ve never seen her look half so good. But the most important thing has been accomplished: by IBM, by Rolex, by ESPN, by the Australian Open board … She’s been put in the back seat. Even if she is driving, she doesn’t look like she’s driving. Civilization and its prescriptions are saved.

It’s like Churches. They pretend they’re being run by God. They pretend that God is the owner, a legitimate owner. They pretend that God is right, and that God is leading them. It’s not them murdering the Jesus, oh no, Jesus is on their side: loves them, forgives them even if they are the crucifiers. So the priests can do whatever they want: and be seen to be passive, reverent: followers, not leaders.

In our mercantile society the state serves business; not trade, not individuals: business, big business; not one guy or gal with a potato patch; no: not me and my idea for deregulating information; no, no: the state serves the regulators, the guys with the poker wad, who don’t need a poker face. I’m not saying that Rolex or IBM dictate the outcome of the matches (though given just a few dollars more they probably would be happy to try). But they certainly do try to manipulate perception of the tournament as well as perception of their product.

I love Roger Federer the way I once loved Rod Laver: a lot, a crazy amount: and Borg, and Newcombe …

Borg
thanx maudhomme

But it’s a kick in the teeth to watch the men’s final, Djokovic versus Murray, after Murray defeated the Fed: didn’t just squeak by him; defeated him! And here’s Rolex stuck with their ad featuring the Fed! No, no, no: they’re saddled with a loser! 2013, he lost!

Oh well, it will be interesting, if a Judgment ever arrives, and the power of the Judgment is compatible with truth, if for once the kleptocrats don’t control the “facts,” lying about everything, to see if it is indeed true that the corporations don’t try to determine the outcome of the contest. Expect though that Lance Armstrong will not be the only one stripped of his prizes.

I look forward to it. I don’t see any possibiity of me having a crust until after such a Judgment.
What I don’t know is if there will be anyone to share any of my rewards with me.
If Jan can’t share with me, then I’d just as soon be dead, like Lance, stripped of everything.

By the way, you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about if you don’t know that I presented the idea of an internet to IBM in 1971 (having presented it to the public, the intended beneficiaries, in 1970). IBM did not support my idea. They have no right now to talk about designing a smarter planet! No, no: they’re the saboteurs. God will never be allowed near Judgment while IBM has the poker wad. IBM, MS, fatty processed foods, products poisoned with caffeine, with nicotine … universities held over genius by armed thugs …

2013 01 29 Alex Rodrigues is back in the news, more drug accusations: economic interests conflicting again with ideas of fair play, or a level paying field: all illusion of course, all manipulated by the magicians, with their misdirections: the poker wad magicians: congress, the Pentagon, Harvard … Harvard economics. If the Yankee organization wasn’t itself directing and sponsoring and benefiting from the cheating, then something called “Balco” was. It all has nothing to do with the kid on the sandlot except in the way that there isn’t anything that doesn’t have to do with the kid on the sandlot.
But what’s now making me marvel about Djoke’s match with Murray is it turns out that Andy’s had blisters on his feet from his battle with Fed. I played tennis once with blisters that merged into one big blister: finally the soles of my feet separated from my feet. The sole slid this way and that: on hard court! It was like trying to run, stop, turn with water balloons strapped under my feet. Andy had something like that: against Djoke! But his camp has made not one peep of an excuse that’s reached my ears.

I haven’t been much of a Murray fan. I’m a big four fan, but Murray least among the four. Yes, and now he’s lost again. But I might find myself rooting for him come Wimbledon. Cheez, I remember going bonkers rooting for Virginia Wade on the Queen’s twenty-fifth anniversary: like an English patriot! when I hate royalty almost as much as I hate vertically hierarchical kleptocracies! England is an exception to everything.

2014 06 22 Too delicious: Now Murray has hired Amelie Mauresmo to be his couch! I loved her! Still do, I guess. Another hard woman, who’s somehow beautiful at the same time. 2015 04 12 And now she’s pregnant!

2013 05 04 Cheese, now he tells us. http://news.yahoo.com/tennis-evert-hurt-connors-revelations-private-matter-164259915.html
Jimmy wrote a book, says Chris wanted an abortion without discussing it with him. Now she’s pissed.

Public Privacy
2013 05 05 Discussed this with Jan last night. No agreement was established at to whether or not abortion is “private.”
I asked Jan if her priest, Father Peter, would agree that terminating a pregnancy was strictly the woman’s business, that she owed no discussion to her fiancé. How about her husband? Would Henry VIII agree that one of his queens could terminate a potential heir to the English throne and it not be any of the king’s business? or Parliament’s? or the public’s?
I guarantee, the public will never agree that anything is none of its business.
I’m not saying that one side or another is clearly right; I’m saying that it’s murky: a mess.

Where I don’t expect anyone to agree with me is in my conviction that evil will be done no matter what we decide.
Will anyone agree with me that it doesn’t matter what we decide? That human opinions don’t control truth?
That’s my real blasphemy: not crediting our species with sentience, with responsibility, with maturity, with intelligence.

2013 07 03 Hooeee, Andy Murray just beat Verdasco in the Wimbledon quarters! Nothing against the Spaniard, but let’s root for the Brit this time around. Go, Andy.

2015 04 12 Wow, does Mother Murray look sharp at Andy’s wedding. Browse the galleries, Andy in kilt, Kim looking great, Mom making me a liar and a fool. (I don’t mind a bit.)
2015 07 06 Wimbledon again, yesterday pix surfaced of Judy Marray looking extra fabulous, just beautiful.

2017 07 13 Andy is out: Judy was shown: fleeting, passed quickly, more beautiful than ever. I just glanced through her wikipedia bio, skimmed her own playing days. Konta is in the women’s semis: and I reflect for a moment on names, genes, politics. Konta plays for “Britton”. Konta was born in Australia, her parents were “Hungarian”. There’s a whole string of choices here: how “freely” were they made? How free were the Williams ancestors to be named “Williams”?

I look around, feel world-side respect and love for Venus and Serena. That respect was uncomfortable a decade or so ago, now it seems genuine: grass roots. “Williams”. Where’d that come from? It’s not Bantu. It’s not Masai. It’s “English”. Where’s “English” come from? These and those Celts running around: and here come mixing in the Normans, and the Danes, and the Saxons … Williams yes, Murray yes, but no Konta; not till yesterday.

In high school we were drilled to believe, at least to pretend to believe, that south Side football players were genetically superior, Oceanside High was our arch rival, on the field we wanted blood. We wanted Samson, we wanted to slaughter the aliens. Our hero was Dom Repeto. What were we Saxons and Danes and Franks and Celts doing worshipping an Italian?

The Hungarians got buried, purged, forgotten: now we’re at Wimbledon, Hungarians reemerging. But whether the Hungarians reemerge or not it’s unequivocal that “Konta” ain’t Celtic! or Frankish! or Danish! It ain’t Brit!

Murray, that’s still ambiguous: could be Scots, could be Irish; Celtic regardless.

And it was just last month of two that Shaq announced that he was betting on Irish Warcry: “‘Cause I’m Irish”, Shaq said.

Sports, Games

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About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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