Tennis! On the one hand, a cultured, civilized sport, on the other, it’s home to some ANGRY people. Let’s start with the granddaddy of chuckin’ wobbly’s John bloody Macenroe. Here he’s having a disagreement over a line call with the high-chair guy. “ANSWER MY QUESTION!”. Aw lots of people yell that phrase these days, especially on the internet. Completely satisfied, Johnno returns to the bench, yeah he looks calm to me… NO, he’s not! He’s still cranky. “Fuck off, Gatorade!” David Nalbandian serves, Cilic returns and… bad luck. That’s no good. OH! He kicks that fella in the bloody shin. The linesman is like “that hurt, man! I’m limping. I’m a limp guy now.” Nalbandian says “can I get you a bandaid?” Too little, too late mate. Oh the big boss is lowering his tiny mechanical chair. Shit has hit the fan when ya see that happen. Monaco delivers a spicy ball to Djokovic and he’s got the point. Novak has stern words with his equipment. A towel is offered to the racket, to stop the bleeding, but it’s dead. It’s dead. Big serve. It’s a fault. No, it’s not. It’s in. Apparently. “Noooo! Nooo! No way! Look at it, once?! Look at it. Once! Worst umpire ever in the world?” Worst umpire ever? How is he gonna respond? He says “sticks and stones will break my bones, but words shall never hurt me. You’ve got a fucken warning.” Wow! Now he’s texting his wife to tell her about his day so far. “I wanna talk to the manager. Surely there’s someone in a higher chair than you that can make sure I win this match.” Oh there we go. I guess this bloke is the owner of tennis. Serena’s like “usually I win all the games. Why is my opponent good at the sport? I should be demolishing her, but she’s bloody excellent. Which is unfair!” It’s confusing to not win every time. Aw Naomi Osaka is stressed about her own victory now. She just wants to be far away, back at home, watching Netflix, think of a calm blue ocean… NAH! This racket is getting murdered. Okay, yep, that’s enough. Grab a freshy… No, don’t murder the freshy and… back to the first one. This is a massacre. It’s like Zombieland, he Double Taps it, to confirm the kill. I don’t think Kyrios does this stuff anymore though. We can relax, he’s got it under control. Game over, but he’ll bounce back, OH NO! No! Another murdered racket! So many murders. Fantastic shot. A well-deserved point. Look out! BANG! “WOW! Oh no! OK, I think we are done.” As much as ya don’t like them, try not to assault the linesmen and women. You think they enjoy looking at your balls all day? Studying ya balls in detail. It’s a hard job. Aaand he hits the net. Classic tennis problem. “What am I gonna do? I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna hit my forehead! NAUGHTY FOREHEAD. BAD FOREHEAD. Great, now I’m bleeding. Way to make me look stupid, forehead. “I’m not getting out of my chair. I refuse to move.” “Fine” says Viktor. “I’m gonna kidnap the cameraman and show you what I see. Look at that. Look at the dirt. The ball was in, or out, I can’t remember which one I’m arguing for.” Sonic boom! Solid tanny. And Sonic boom again! Oh dad is hit. He’s like “fuck me, this is what I get for raising you?! Bullshit mate.” Mum gives him a serve. She’s like “Ya grounded for two weeks when we get back to Greece, Stefano, and no pocket money. Little shit. I’d say that’s an ace from Mum.