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LaRosa's Sweet Spot: Feb 9, 2011

2/9/2011 1:00:00 PM

LaRosa's Sweet Spot Archive |

This Valentine’s Day, I’m writing a love letter to someone I, well…I sort of have a crush on. Okay it started out as a crush but it’s quickly erupted into a heart pounding toe-curling obsession with a full-blown sex god and if I don’t unburden myself now I’ll die, I’ll just die!

What molten pool of hotness has me quivering in my Barricade IVs?

Oh wow. I’m going to say it. Here it comes. Someone hold me.

CANADA.

Oh GOD even saying the name out loud sends tingles up and down my everything.

How did this happen?  It caught me totally by surprise, like getting in your car and seeing a face reflected in your review. OH MY GOD CANADA IS IN MY BACK SEAT! It used to be the only thing I needed my neighbor to the north for was Tylenol with Codeine without a prescription and the occasional Anne Murray fix. Its tennis pedigree amounted to Greg Rusedski and Mary Pierce, and they couldn’t hot step it out of there fast enough.

Canada teased me like the little minx it is with Frank Dancevic, but his back snapped under the weight of carrying an entire country. Another tease came in the form of Aleksandra Wozniak, but she too snapped. And dyed her hair. I’m not convinced these two events were unrelated.

But now little Canadian monsters are crawling out of the shadows like death demons from Ghost, but instead of moaning and looking embarrassingly low-budge CGI, they pronounce ‘about’ like ‘aboot’ and end every sentence with ‘eh?’! ADORABLE.

Oh Canada!

I fell in love with Rebecca Marino thanks to Twitter. You can tell a lot about someone by what they choose to tweet, and the moment Rebecca posted a fun fact about Matthew Perry missing a chunk of finger, I knew I was hooked. She may not have A-Woz’s intoxicating accent or shock-white feet (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eb3e-2IQi04), but boy can she hit the Celine Dion out of the ball! She qualified for the 2010 US Open and played Venus Williams hard. She played Francesca Schiavone even harder in Melbourne last month, taking Franny to 9-7 in the third. This week she cracked the top 100.

Did I mention the chunk of finger?

She wears Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers on her fingernails. That’s gangsta.

Of course the biggest supernova to come out of Canada has been Milos Raonic. He’s barely 20 and he’s already Canada’s answer to the Beatles. He made headlines last year in a match v. Rafael Nadal in Tokyo that had even the world No 1 singing his praises, but it was in Melbourne where he truly said PAY ATTENTION SUCKAS, MILOS IN THE HIZZOUSE, EH? Raonic ripped through the draw with perhaps the most exciting new serve on tour. How exciting?  During Milos’s upset over Xavier Malisse in San Jose yesterday, Brad Gilbert marveled over its simplicity and remarked that, when Milos’s upper body fills out, it could wind up clocking in the record-shattering 160s. TINGLES.  The way he attacks attacks attacks the net he might as well be attacking my heart. All that AND he sticks out just the tip of his tongue like he’s licking a tiiiiiiny little postage stamp every time he hits the ball. Dart dart dart. Swoon.

Now A-Woz and Dancevic are back! Frankie qualified for the ’11 Aussie and bounced defending champ Feliciano Lopez from the SA Open last week. Aleksandra, well, she’s still brunette.  But we’re holding out hope!

And then there’s Daniel Nestor. He’s done stuff.

In the friendliest and most polite of blitzkriegs, the land of maple syrup and Mounties has ambushed my heart. Some of you may say this love is premature. That it needs to prove itself more before I throw my body on top of it like some cheap trick after an all-night beer-soaked curling tailgate. But I know potential when I see it. And I’m getting in on the ground floor. Plus I’m seriously gonna need a place to crash when Sarah Palin eventually becomes president.

And so here I am, my heart on my sleeve, my pride be damned, risking it all. Yes, I’m a world famous tennis writer respected by dozens. I’m also just a man, standing in front of a sex god tennis nation, asking it to love him.

So, Canada, will you be my Valentine?

And don’t say no because I will stalk you.  If I can’t have you, no one will. It’s the American way.

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Follow James at twitter.com/JamesLaRosa.