Women’s tennis has always mesmerized me (this goes back long before Anna Kournikova appeared on the scene). It is a combination of the short skirts, the athleticism, the undulating buttocks and the orgasmic cries of ladies as they whack at the ball with all their might that does it for me. Today at lunch, while Jake and I dined on brisket sandwiches from Brothers Barbecue, my obsession with women’s tennis reared its ugly head. Jake was trying to make conversation with me but my attentions were transfixed on the television behind him that was broadcasting a French Open match between Vera Zvonareva and Maria Sharapova. It was an epic struggle and, just in case you care, the 18th seeded Maria Sharapova upset the 10th seeded Vera Zvonareva.