When it finally came time to leave the grounds at Roland Garros for good, I was as satisfied as I was saddened. I had seen three amazing days of tennis at one of the world's most spectaular venues and I was no longer a novice to the game of clay court tennis.

My last day at the French Open was as fulfilling as any experience in recent memory, tennis or otherwise. I had a great slate of matches on a great court with great seats and great weather. It was the perfect end to a magical first visit.

Somehow, somewhere, I managed to land seats in a private box on Court Suzanne Lenglen for my last day. Lenglen is already an intimate venue, but these seats literally put us on top of the court. I had a few balls come flying into the box, not to mention that Serbian stud Jelena Jankovic actually chased a shot all the way over the court partitions and into the front row. Even if the caliber of tennis had not been terribly high, the experience of watching from that vantage point would have managed to compensate.

Fortunately for me, that was not the case.

My day started with Jankovic taking on yet another gorgeous Russian teenager in Nicole Vaidisova. I'd heard a lot of people saying that she was the Russian with the game best suited for success on clay. Unfortunately for Vaidisova, Jankovic has been playing about as well as anybody on tour, male or female. It was confidence vs. more confidence, and the result was awesome. The two were content to just sit back and crank their booming groundstrokes, the scope of which I finally began to understand from my front row seat. Their strokes sounded like gunshots and they were exchanging blows like a pair of boxers with winner after winner off both sides. Ultimately it was Jankovic who prevailed thanks to a few green mistakes from the 18-year-old, but not after the crowd on Lenglen was treated to a great display of ball-striking from a pair of very talented up-and-comers. Jankovic also brought something rare to Grand Slam scene: crowd interaction. She was very loose, smiling and joking around and even rolling her eyes at my box when Vaidisova walked up to examine a ball mark that was clearly in. I expect her dynamic with the crowd to greatly help her out in her remaining matches, especially if she falls behind. The French love an underdog, but they especially love a loveable underdog.

Up next on Lenglen was a battle of yet two more Russians: Maria Sharapova and Anna Chalkvetadze. As the No. 2 seed and one of the more recognizeable faces in tennis, Sharapova was obviously a heavy favorite going in. She did not disappoint. Truth be told, it was a bit of a "ho-hum" match, with neither player finding her stride until late in the second set. It was then that Chakvetadze began to run Sharapova all over the court, basically dictating every point. But her leggy foe had no trouble scrambling and always seemed to find a way to take the offensive and overpower the pettite Chalkvetadze. Sharapova left the court with a straight-sets victory and more importantly, without boos.

The last match of the day and easily the most memorable of the tournament for myself was between the No. 4 seed Nikolay Davydenko of Russia and Argentine journeyman Guillermo Canas. For those who have not seen him, Davydenko is a lanky, almost anemic looking guy with a face that my mom likens to Edvard Munch's "The Scream." But man oh man does the guy have talent. He is probably the single best ball-striker I have ever seen play the game -- middle of the strings, every time. Canas, for his part, is having the best year of his career after returning from a year-long drug suspension that saw him fall well out of the top 100. He hasn't won any tournaments to this point, but he defeated some guy named Federer in back-to-back tournaments and, needless to say, that's caught a few peoples' attention.

What I was treated to from the first toss of the ball was quintessential clay court tennis. The two of them produced more epic points in three hours than I had seen in the week in a half of watching the French Open on TV and in person. Davydenko swatted the ball from corner to corner and Canas, considered by many to be the fittest player on tour, proceeded to retrieve every last ball, even when it seemed well beyond his reach. The crowd was instantly enthralled and the see-saw battle that ensued played out as much in the stands as it did on the court. The more than 10,000 on hand at Suzanne Lenglen were torn between admiring Davydenko's awe-inspiring winners and applauding the superhuman efforts of Canas. When Davydenko wrapped up the first set in exactly an hour and a quarter, the fans knew they were in for something special. They clapped and cheered at every break point, hoping to keep an already evenly-matched contest as level as possible. They produced a steady stream of "allez Niko!" and "vamos Willy!" when either player got behind. Easily the most memorable moment of the night, and arguably of the tournament for me, was when Canas broke Davydenko at love to get himself back into the match after the Russian seemingly had it in the bag. As the two drank water and towelled off during the changeover, a group of Argentine fans began chanting and then, all at once, started a wave one side of the stadium. The idea did not take the first time, and the second was not much of an improvement, but come the third attempt, the whole north stands stood up in a roar and sent a wave cascading around Court Suzanne Lenglen. It was probably the last thing anyone would expect to see at a tennis match, but it so perfectly fit the energy and the entertainment value of the match that it was easily acceptable. Surprisingly enough, in spite of how even the battle was, Davydenko managed to dispatch of Canas in straight sets, though it took exactly three hours to do so. Still, it was as memorable a match as I could ask for in my final viewing at the 07 French Open. More importantly, it's the perfect springboard to hopefully get me back there some day. If anyone out there reading this is a tennis fan, you owe it to yourself to fly to Paris, hop on the #10 line towards Boulogne, get off at Porte d'Auteile and walk through the gates of Roland Garros. Trust me... you will not be disappointed.

Until next time...

-- Alex Mansfield

Posted by Sports Desk at 04:35 PM | Permalink

Not even a pair of barely-legal phenoms and a seat on the storied Court Phillipe Chatrier could help my second day at Roland Garros surpass the theatrics of day one. Still, the day was a memorable one, if only for a pair of near-clinical performances and a taste of the French Open's civilized side.

I was pumped when I took a look at the draw sheets this morning. My family and I had unbelieveable seats on Court Phillipe Chatrier, considered the "stadium court" at Roland Garros. Slated to play were Serbian teenager Novak Djokovic, a recent favorite of mine since seeing him at the Pacific Life Open, and red dirt's wunderkind, Rafael Nadal.

Djokovic was set to square off against Fernando Verdasco, a Spaniard whose record was mediocre but, as my mom so eloquently put it, "sure knew how to wear a t-shirt." They were two fun players, and while I expected Djokovic to ultimately prevail, I was looking for a tight, exhilterating match. What I got instead was a perfect display of how to play "clean" tennis, as Djokovic basically made Verdasco hit one more ball for three deceptively easy sets. The score ultimately read 6-3, 6-3, 7-6, but Verdasco's 2-to-1 edge in unforced errors showed just how efficient Djokovic was in his play. It really is scary to think that Djokovic is just 19... he has a huge game and a few analysts have even said he has the tools to be the next Federer. Lofty expectations for such a green career, but regardless of what the next few years hold in terms of results, I can tell you that this kid will be a great ambassador for the sport. He's got the ideal personality to be a fan favorite wherever he goes.

The match that followed Djokovic onto Phillipe Chatrier was one that had the potential to be an instant classic. It pitted the two-time defending champion Nadal against former world #1 Lleyton Hewitt for a birth in the quarterfinals. Hewitt owned a 4-2 career edge in matches against Nadal, but Nadal had won the only two matchups on clay, including a three-set battle at the Masters Series Hamburg a few weeks ago. There were just a few small details Hewitt had to dance around before he took center court against Nadal on Sunday. For starters, Nadal was very well-rested, having yet to drop a set at the French. Next, Sunday was his 21st birthday. Lastly, Nadal was a perfect 17-0 at Roland Garros in his career. Advantage: Nadal.

And it showed...

The clamdigger-clad Mallorcan put himself in a class all his own, and it was quite a sight to behold. He cracked Hewitt right off the bat and proceeded to absolutely dismantle him through the better part of his straight-sets victory. When Hewitt did find his stride, it took all he had to force a tiebreaker in the third set, which actually lasted longer than the first two combined. I found myself wondering who was more dominant at his best: Nadal on clay or Federer on grass. Whatever the case, Nadal was completely at home on the red dirt.

Tomorrow brings yet another play date with Maria Sharapova, not to mention what I hope to be a memorable last match between Guillermo Canas and Nikolay Davidenko. It's back to Suzanne Lenglen and hopefully back to the theatrics of the "other stadium" at Roland Garros.

Au revoir.

-- Alex Mansfield

Posted by Sports Desk at 04:29 PM | Permalink

Leave it up to the French to host the most eccentric of tennis' four Grand Slams. Intimate venues, hostile crowds, unlikely heroes and -- of course -- that red stuff. The list goes on and on, but the long and short of it is that the French Open has the perfect recipe for two weeks of mayhem to kick off the summer tennis season.

As a self-proclaimed tennis junky, I can proudly say I made my first trip to Roland Garros this year. As is the norm, I suppose, I came in with no expectations. It's pretty tough to maintain any sort of standard for an event made famous by its unpredictability. Needless to say, the thought of three days at the French Open more than piqued my interest.

As I sit in my hotel room just past 11 p.m. after returning from a marathon day one, I can safely say that my first impression of Roland Garros is in indelible one.

Here's are a few things that caught I could not forget from my baptism by clay.

- First, there are the crowds outside the grounds before the gates even open. People camp out overnight with the hopes of getting the few precious grounds passes made available each day, so regardless of how early you get there, you're more than likely going to be behind someone. Thankfully, my family and I already had tickets, so we were fortunate enough to skip the 1/4 mile-long queue in favor of our own elaborate, snaking line. The difference was, when the gates finally opened, our line moved rather smoothly. I saw maybe a handful of people from the other line move. Note: get tickets beforehand.

- I had never seen clay court tennis, outside of television coverage of course. Truth be told, I had only ever seen one true clay court in my life. It was nice, yes, but it was nothing special. This place, Roland Garros, is immaculate. It's eighteen perfectly constructed squares of chalk and crushed brick. Some of them are housed by simple, waist-high chainlink fences. Others are at the center of elaborate, sophisticated stadiums with densely-populated seating grids and press boxes. Still, they all carry the same esteem.

- Then there is clay court tennis itself. To most casual viewers, it's just tennis on a red court. But up close, there is so much more to it. It's such a delicate, tactical game of cat-and-mouse. I can see why the Americans all managed to crash out in the first round. Red clay is basically the mortal enemy of the Americans' "speak softly and carry a big stick" approach to tennis. Our heavy artillery is no match for the clay court magicians of Europe and South America. Where the Americans move on the court, the clay courters glide. Where the Americans try to blast their opponents off the court, the clay courters try to run their opponents off the court. And they succeed, too. Today I saw Argentina's Juan Monaco actually trip over an umpire's chair in a desperate scramble to get back into a point. You tell me where else you'll see that.

- Lastly, there's the fanfare. In a few weeks, Wimbledon plays host to tennis' most prestigious, most traditional, most one-dimensional tournament. If Wimbledon is high society, the French Open is the rehab facility that tennis has to go through the get there. And trust me... it's not an easy road to recovery. For some reason, the drawn-out nature of clay court tennis seems to bring out a certain measure of animocity and bad behavior in players. And for some reason, the fans seem to follow suit. I was fortunate enough to witness an epic match between man's best friend, Maria Sharapova, and a fiesty tour vet named Patty Schnyder. Let me preface this story by saying that I am an admitted chauvinist who usually sticks to watching the men's matches. This match, however, goes down in my book as the best tennis match I have seen to date. Now, back to the issue at hand. Sharapova was serving at 7-7, 30-0 in the third set. French crowds tend to support the underdog, and this match was no different. The 10,000 strong at Court Suzanne Lenglen had been roaring with cheers of "Patty! Patty!" ever since she went up 5-4 in the third set. Still, it was quite a surprise when Sharapova tossed up the ball to serve and, in the middle of her motion, a fan in the stands screamed "Allez!" Schnyder, clearly distracted by the yell, started to raise her hand to stop Sharapova. The Russian was already midswing, and delivered a booming ace as Schynder sat with her hand up. When Schnyder looked at the chair umpire, he signaled that the point would be awarded to Sharapova. Enter the crowd. Boos and whistles rained down from the seats of the packed stadium to the point where the umpire's frenzied cries of "s'il vous plait" were drowned out over the loudspeaker. It continued for a good 45 seconds or so until Sharapova just served the ball to start the next point. Ultimately, she held her serve and broke Schynder the next game to take the match 9-7 in the third set. Her victory was met with boos. When she autographed the lens on the camera and the image was on the big screen, she was booed. When she walked out onto the court to wave and blow kisses, she was booed. Welcome to the French Open!

I can't wait for day two ...

-- Alex Mansfield

Posted by Sports Desk at 02:34 PM | Permalink

Just when Jason Wood thought his pro baseball career was over, he got called up to the big show. Trib reporter James Staley wrote this great story on Wood's special moment.

To put it in a little perspective, Wood is totally the Crash Davis of Albuquerque baseball. He has displayed tremendous leadership the past few years and helped the 'Topes to every bit of success they've had in the past. Instead of being forced to look into managing a team like Bull Durham's Crash Davis, Wood gets one more shot at the big leagues. It may not last, but it's sweet to see him rewarded for his effort.

Wood was one of four 'Topes called up following the team's 7-6 loss to Omaha Monday. It was their final game, dropping tto a 70-72 record. It's hard to blame the club with so many transactions sapping the lineup all year.

It's a bummer that fans won't get a chance to enjoy the food and fun of Isotopes Park until UNM baseball is under way again. Oh well, at least the State Fair is starting soon. Funnel cakes, anyone?

Iliana Limon

Posted by ilimon at 09:19 PM | Permalink

Buzz has surrounded Isotopes Park during this four-game homestand with the Nashville Sounds that ends Monday.
The parent Florida Marlins guaranteed to stick with the Albuquerque Isotopes until 2008, a sigh of relief for anyone who thought Florida would look for a geographically closer Triple-A affiliate.
Now that Albuquerque is cemented in Florida's plans, Isotopes manager Dean Treanor has promised the good stuff.
"We will bring a (Pacific Coast League) championship to Albuquerque," Treanor said.
Albuquerque, at 58-61, is still in last place in the PCL American Southern Division, so the only hope for fireworks this year is during Sunday's postgame celebration.
However, if you get the chance, check out Isotopes leadoff man Eric Reed during this homestand. He enters Sunday's game with a 17-game hitting streak, one shy of tying the franchise record.
Plus he motors mightily through base paths, so that's fun to watch.

Posted by Jeremy Fowler at 04:38 PM | Permalink