Saturday, May 25, 2012
Bienvenue a France friends.
This blog isn’t going to be about tennis. It’s not about a little tourist outing. It’s about all that is Roland Garros. What makes this Slam different from the rest. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want the other three Slams to feel left out (I will do a little behind the scenes for each Slam) but this just happens to be my first analysis. This Slam is quite different.
First and foremost, you’ve got the language. This is the only Slam that mainstreams in another language other than English. Since it is in France and all.
We arrived from Brussels on a great train that took a total of about an hour and a half. We arrived, and sure enough, we had a driver, a car, and a red carpet waiting for our arrival. The sunroof in the car. Looking at the Eiffel, the Louvre, and Notre Dame—-rough I know. The apartment we got is in the heart of Old Paris. Fifth floor with a balcony that’s got an awesome skyline of Paris.
We got a ride to the site. Couldn’t have been a better ride. When I tell you my eyes got more than they bargained for, I’m not kidding.
Upon arrival, we got our credentials right away. No line, just go. Got a practice court for a little groove “sesh” and then sure enough, Jeff wanted Reilly (his 11 year old son that is on this trip) to go inside and look into Phillippe Chatrier, which is center court here. Sure enough, Fed’s practicing. Sorry about your first ever appearance at the French.
The details. That’s what I’ve noticed like never before. The Roland Garroslogos are in the most creative places. When I tell you that everywhere the eyes wander, the RG logo looks amazing. The thought that has come building and creating this facility is mind boggling. Picasso meets Matisse, who then met with Van Gogh—-who then met with Rafa.
The people. We couldn’t walk around the first day because of the amount of people and kids that were around. Jeff made the mistake of signing one autograph for a little boy—-which resulted in 40 kids bombarding his bubble and begging for an autograph.
The car rides. Not hating on the drivers, but French driving is honestly something to look forward to in the morning. There’s been a couple of times where I just wasn’t sure……………….. However, one thing is for sure—-Peugeot’s brake pedals are world class.
The clay. The second that a practice, set, or a match finishes, four court managers show up. It’s almost magical. They are just THERE. They water and sweep the courts to perfection, and slowly disappear to only be seeing after your practice is over.
Every night, Jeff, Reilly and I set off to find the perfect spot to have dinner. The first night we went for dinner, we arrived at this awesome spot about 10 minutes from our apartment, that had the perfect set-up with an amazing fountain right outside that allowed a little flirty glimpse of the Eiffel tower—-I have yet to take a bad picture in this place.
The food. Every time you think of France, you think of gourmet. And sure enough, it’s gourmet. The pasta, I mean, I haven’t been to Italy yet, but right now, France has won every pasta award in my book. I love Salmon, and I know my girl Kim “The Ripped” would love her some Salmon, but let me tell you, I don’t get sick of eating it. Now, I won’t do the raw uncooked stuff that they serve for breakfast, but hey, that’s a little culture for ya.
Last but not least, The Fashion. I mean, every time you think “fashion” you think Hollywood, New York, Milan, and Paris. Gucci, Dolce, Dior, Cartier. They are all here. And when you’re walking around Roland Garros, people let you know that they have some of that.
Friends, the French Open is a great Slam. Every single Slam has got its perks, and its beauty. And I’m quickly finding out all about the beauty of Paris.
American in Paris.