BuggBlog

Full court press

Following up on its attention-grabbing antics of last week when it ran a blank stretch of space on its front page to emphasize the Obama campaign's decision not to do an interview with the paper, the Philadelphia Gay News continues its campaign this week with the front page with the complaint that it's been "1,529 days" since Obama interviewed with the "local gay press."

The complaint last week in a PGN editorial was  that "It has now been 1,522 days since Obama has been accessible to our community." Now that the Advocate has snagged an interview with him, the PGN complaint has shifted, essentially, to kvetching that Barack Obama won't interview with me!

PGN publisher Mark Segal, in a press release this morning highlighted four "questions of importance to the LGBT community of Pennsylvania":

1. Why has he not spoken with local gay media in 1529 days?

2. Why has he accepted only two interviews with gay media since 2004?

3. Why interview only with gay media when in damage control now that the national LGBT press is urging you to talk to us, not at us?

4.  Finally, with all due respect Senator, you've now avoided answering the single most important question which PGN readers must ask. The LGBT community of Pennsylvania wants to know your stand on the anti gay marriage state constitutional legislation currently before the Pennsylvania Senate.

You know, when three of your four "important" questions are essentially re-phrased versions of Barack Obama won't interview with me! then there's a bit of a substance problem to the complaint. The idea that we don't know anything about Obama's positions on GLBT issues -- or, conversely, that we now have some special insight into the mind of Hillary Clinton because she interviewed with PGN or Kevin Naff at the Blade -- is a non-starter because the positions have been spelled out, they've been discussed in public events, and they've been covered in press both mainstream and niche. And if you're a reporter who wants to know a candidate's position on a particular issue -- say, a Pennsylvania anti-marriage amendment -- you call the campaign office, ask them, and report the response (or non-response).

Tempest? Meet the teapot.

The tragedy of the B level tennis player

The worst thing about being a B-level tennis player is that, often, you're just good enough to know how bad you suck.

Basically, I can hit the shit out of a tennis ball. Take me out on the court to casually bang a few balls around and I can consistently hit deep, penetrating top spin forehands with good direction. My two-handed backhand will find that perfect height over the net and angle sharply off the court. My form will be not quite textbook but certainly on-spot enough to show that I've had the benefit of good tennis instruction early in life. I have no problems just hitting with players one or two levels above me -- just warming up can be a Zen like experience where the limbs move with the order and precision that can only be summoned through on-court calm.

Then I start to play a match and, as they say, it's a whole 'nother story.

Of course, this is because when you hit a ball in practice you generally want it to come back so you can hit it again. In a match, the guy across the court doesn't want that and will do what he can to make you miss. It's harder to hit a forehand when you're scrambling around way too far behind the baseline.

But that's all doable, if you have the basic skills in stroke production and point c0nstruction, which most strong B players have. The problem is all that stuff going on between the ears. If I'm up two breaks in the first set, I'll suddenly think, I just have to get the ball in and the set is mine, a thought which I quickly follow with, No no no! Don't change anything you're doing, keep up the pressure! a thought that I then quickly follow with a nervous double fault. Or my borderline ADD will kick in just as I have a chance for an important service break and I'll spend three points trying desperately not to think about the book I'm reading or the project I'm finishing or the Battlestar Galactica episode that's upcoming or the fact that I really like ice cream.

In this, I am generally unsuccessful.

Some days, however, it all comes together and my mind calms down and my body complies and my game elevates itself by a level -- even two -- and I experience that moment that always brings me back to the court. The moment where everything clicks, everything is clear, everything works.

Which makes it all the more disappointing when the next day I once again play like the B that I am.

Disclosure that proves a point: In the photo above, I'm serving in a match at the Liberty Open in New York. I won the first set easily, and was up two breaks in the second. I proceeded to lose it anyway.