As many of you know, I had surgery to repair a hernia last Thursday. As such, I’ve been doing an awful lot of experimentation with painkillers. Last night it was dark rum, which proved to be an excellent analgesic. I actually ended up quite hammered and was inspired to write a letter to tennis superstar Roger Federer:
R-Fed:
Listen.
I want you to know that I’m not gay or anything.
Not even close.
I’m a million fucking miles from gay-o land.
I couldn’t get there in a space ship. Not even one with Warp Speed. Not even through a wormhole.
Have you seen the new Star Trek movie?
I did. It rocked.
Like you.
You, sir, rock. You rock on. And on and on and on. You spin me right round like a record, baby, right round, right round.
Are your eyes blue?
I think mine are hazel, but you know what? I don’t really even know what hazel looks like. When I look into my own eyes, I see nothing. Is that creepy? I didn’t think so. I thought you’d understand. You’re the sort of guy who’s not afraid to cry, or let another man reach out and touch you in a completely hetro kind of way. If you were here right now, I’d give you a big, long hug!
You know, after a bit, you stop needing to mix rum with coke. Instead, you can put a scoop of French Vanilla ice cream in your rock glass of Captain Morgan. Pirates drink rum. I feel like a pirate! A Cuban pirate with a big cigar!
I like watching you play tennis. You look like a Greek God out there, all glistening with sweat, your hair tossed in the sun by the fluid movements of your lithe body. A tennis angel who has fallen to Earth.
Is Andy Roddick a fag? I bet he is. I think he might be overcompensating for something with that big serve of his! If he were on my pirate ship, I would make him walk the plank. I wonder what it would be like to be gay? It might be okay, I don’t know.
Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t have any latent homosexual stuff that comes out when I’ve been drinking. THAT’S BULLSHIT SHIT AND THE GUYS AT THE PUB SHOULDN’T BE SAYING THAT SORT OF CRAP!!
I just like the way you play tennis is all. A lot.
Michael Murray
PS: If you should lose in the French Open and are feeling sad, you can come stay with us, and when Rachelle is away at work all day we could take my dog, Heidi for a walk, and spend some time together.