When I was pregnant with Elle, Dave and I went to England to pick up my brother from his mission (along with my whole family).
And I have a giant confession to make about our trip: we snuck into Wimbledon.
Dave, sick of standing in line with the masses to see if we may possibly be able to get in, and being the master of getting into where he wants, found a way in through a maze of workers' quarters. It was a total labyrinth and I have no idea to this day how he figured it out, but he miraculously found himself right in the practice court with all the bigwigs.
Samprus was there. Martina Hingis. Stefi Graf.
He acted like he was supposed to be there, shot a few gun-fingers at his fav. players, and promptly figured out a way to get not only pregnant me along with baby Max in a stroller in through the maze, he got my whole family in.
And as you know, we are no small crowd.
As we sat there basking in the perfect weather and soaking in one of our favorite sports to watch, Dave and I made a pact: some day we were going to get to all the grand slams.
**note: My Dad, being the honest guy that he is, and in a little bit of guilty retrospect, did end up writing a really nice note to the good gentlemen at Wimbledon to let them know that indeed, their security may have a few glitches along with a check to cover the amount we would have had to pay had we stood in that long line for long enough.
So when we were in New York we went to the U.S. Open.
We had to.
Mostly because of our pact.
But also because Dave found these cheap tickets on the internet.
And really, is there a better way to spend the day than to go hang out watching tennis? Seriously? I don't think so.
Now that we've done the U.S. Open we have two down, two to go.
The U.S. Open is way more crowded than I remember Wimbledon being. It was packed.
Plus it was much more "American." Waffle fries and the works. At Wimbledon it seemed like they just had crumpets and tea cakes. And American announcers just don't sound quite as proper as they do at Wimbledon.
A little different flavor. But we loved it.
We watched the Bryan brothers play doubles in the Arthur Ashe stadium. Man they got that ball moving. But they lost in a tight tie-break.
We watched the women's quarterfinals.
We watched some old-timers like Billy Jean King play on another court.
We rubbed shoulders with Nadal.
It was a near-Paparazzi experience.
My brother had the guts to push through the crowds and get this shot. I'm proud.
I liked this one too...his fingers all taped up from all the play.
So, Paris and Australia, here we come (we may have to be walking around with walkers and false teeth by the time we get there, but you can bet we're going some day).