I Thought That You Were My Friend

Andy Roddick drew his good friend Justin Gimelstob to play in Round One of the U.S. Open and Gimelstob chose the occasion to announce his retirement from tennis, like anyone will miss him. Sorry, but I saw him play when he was a teenager and he was a brat. I’m sure he’s grown up a lot but he has nothing like Roddick’s class.

Take this bullshit match for example! Gimelstob comes popping out of the gate like a fucking firecracker. He’s fires fast, potent serves that he practically rocket-propels with the scissor-like snap of his long body. His long limbs also aid him at the net where he rushes to successfully block nearly every return, volleying them in a sickeningly showy, point-winning way.

Andy, who’s going to beat him, is tight and nervous. Why? Because Gimelstob is his friend – it’s awkward to crush a friend. But not for Gimelstob! He’ll stop at nothing. He even volleyed a ball onto the court after Andy had turned his back thinking the point was over. “Oo! He’s supposed to be his friend!” John McEnroe exclaimed. “Stabbed him right in the back!”

Andy needs a hard, grueling match like he needs a hole in the head. But Gimelstob doesn’t care. He’s determined to push Andy to the limit and I’m sure Andy wasn’t psyched up for that. I’m certain it’s taken him by surprise the way any friend’s sudden competitiveness does. It’s like the sting of a surprise lash of a whip. Huh???

Andy fights and fights, but Gimelstob is all pumped up with nothing-to-lose brio and he repeatedly outplays the struggling champion. I find it miserable to watch Andy looking so stressed and furious. “Fuck!” he yells at one point. The whole stadium hears it, we at home hear it. He does not need this kind of clobbering in the first round by his friend.

But he pulls it off. Or out, as you Americans say. He manages to serve enough aces, and Gimelstob hits some wild shots and slowly errors himself out of the running. When it’s over Andy walks to the net with a strange, set look on his face. He’s angry, I think. He can’t believe his friend put him through this kind of near-ass-kicking. But when they meet, the two men embrace with all evidence of total affection. They seem to speak in an easy, friendly way. And I realize I never will understand men. This kind of pounding is not taken personally – it’s just sheer testosterone, nothing out of the ordinary. They’re joking and laughing as soon as it’s over.

Well, they feel fine. I’m too upset to sleep!