Tennis star Maria Sharapova apparently has her own candy line, in addition to legs that could snap a grown man’s neck in a split second, and she celebrated the one-year anniversary of the Sugarpova brand yesterday at some store in New York City. Leading up to the big moment of her holding up a bag and sort of smiling, Maria had asked the Florida Supreme Court for permission to legally change her name to Sugarpova during the two weeks of the upcoming U.S. Open tournament.
But she ultimately decided not to make the temporary change, likely because a court official responded, “What are you, a fucking idiot?” and then set her paperwork on fire.
Instead of women’s tennis, we should have a sport called fake women’s tennis. Where girls don’t have to actually hit the ball back and forth, they just need to run around the court in skirts and sweat-resistant sports bras. This would allow girls who are not necessarily athletically gifted but who look amazing to still compete. I suppose fake women’s tennis wouldn’t technically be a sport so much as it would be something a million times more awesome than real women’s tennis.
Girls who play tennis are like girls who play golf, only more muscular and unexpectedly less lesbian. I love to watch the tennis girls grunt and sweat and rally back and forth for ten minutes like one-player Pong at the basic skill level. And I almost forgot about the skirts and the loose fitting tops. Yes, there’s much to love about women’s tennis. If I had lady parts, I’d be playing it right now.
Here’s Maria Sharapova at the just concluded Sony Open. She lost in the finals to the Williams sister with the massive quads and the hairy pits. No, not that one, the other one.