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LaRosa's Sweet Spot: June 15, 2011

6/15/2011 2:00:00 PM

LaRosa's Sweet Spot Archive |

You know, I try to be a good person. I’ve devised anti-drinking game after anti-drinking game in my naïve attempt to protect you, keep you healthy, safe. At least keep your liver functioning. But you just keep fighting me. So this time I’m going to get you tore up from the floor up. Yup, it’s the first ever Sweet Spot Drinking Game, just in time for the Grassy Slam. Try not to spill on your Wimbledon whites. And if you do, who cares, you’re loaded.

*for those who don’t drink (that goes for all the kiddies in the house, those under doctors orders and my Nana who gets awfully handsy at Christmas parties), you may dump out your strawberries and chug the cream. If I’m not blowin’ your liver, I’m definitely blowin’ your belt.

Swig, if…

A certain slamless No 1 is asked nonstop about it. And by it I mean her outfit.

The BRITISH PRESS lights candles, pops on some Barry White and makes sweet love to a winning Brit player, then proceeds to devour them praying mantis-style leaving nothing but a headless husk and a lanyard. Chug if it destroys said player’s career forever.

The tennis boom in CHINA is discussed with wild abandon – that final was watched by 116 million people! Take 2 swigs if commentators still can’t figure out whether to call her Li Na or Na Li.

The massive patches of DIRT behind the baselines are marveled over slack-jawed as evidence of the modern baseline game. Take two swigs if someone immediately waxes nostalgic over the lost art of serve and volley and the death of tennis as a whole.


FABIO FOGNINI pisses someone off.

Henman Hill or Murray Mound?

They wheel out that ridiculous GRUNT-O-METER to measure how loud all those awful screaming girls are! Did you know Sharapova clocks in at 104 decibels? And Serena, 91? Of course you did! Chug until the tediousness goes away.

Commentators banter over if it should be HENMAN HILL or Murray Mound. Take 2 swigs if the term “Murray Mound” sounds horribly, horribly wrong.

ISNER/MAHUT is brought up daily. Take two swigs if it’s accompanied by swelling orchestral music and a devastated Mahut in super-slow motion. Chug if any match that goes past 6-6 in the fifth this year garners a melodramatic “uh-oh.”

JAMES BLAKE and Pam Shriver have a schmaltzy on-air reconciliation after last year’s awesomeness. Chug if the reconciliation is completely unconvincing.

When it rains, KARAOKE jokes galore

LOOKS play any role at all in the court assignments of WTA players. Down a 6-pack if Centre Court looks more like a runway than any kind of reflection of the rankings.

MAHUT/ISNER is brought back up again. Oh this ain’t goin’ away people.

The NO 1 RANKING is the lead-off story every time Rafael Nadal or Novak Djokovic take the court. Will this be the match Novak takes it? Will this be the one? Chug if you’re Novak and this is indeed that match.

The ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF WIMBLEDON is mentioned ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE times. Crack open a 40 if there’s a video package of players past and present wishing it a happy birthday. Down it if someone jokes that Wimbledon doesn’t look a day over 124. Then crack the bottle over your head.

PIPPA MIDDLETON shows up. Take two swigs if she’s wearing a stupid hat. Chug if you wouldn’t know her face if you were peeling it from the grill of your car.

Reporters descend on the QUEUE to showcase the true spirit of Wimbledon. Suck from a party ball if the reporters can’t conceal how sweaty, gross and crazy they think these hill people really are.

RAFAEL NADAL, NOVAK DJOKOVIC, ROGER FEDERER and ANDY MURRAY make the second week. Throw back a Harvey Wallbanger if they all make the semis.

Francesca SCHIAVONE does something awesome.




The WILLIAMS SISTERS are dubbed the favorites. Chug if the reason given isn’t  because they’re so good but because the rest of the field is so bad.

X-TRA HELPING of Isner/Mahut? Too bad. Open wide, here it comes!

YOU miss a vital match – perhaps an epic quarterfinal upset, perhaps a historic semi – because of the Today Show. Tap a keg and drain it if it creates a PR disaster that was completely avoidable.

You’re a total ZOMBIE from lack of sleep/connection with the real world for two straight weeks. Thank God for Middle Sunday. Too bad you’ll be spending it nursing a hangover.

Whatever you do this Wimbledon, make sure you have a designated driver - you’re gonna need it, luv.

Glasses ready!


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