The morning after

Undoubtedly, the Open last night was a highlight of my past 6 months. Brilliant atmosphere, with some fantastic tennis. Maria Sharapova's high-pitched squeals actually completed the experiential duo of site and sound, so depth became much more perceivable. They created a sense of place. It was fantastic. Seeing Andy Roddick's blistering first serves in person made me realize how big a difference there is between him and me. (ha!) He shot one at 144 mph; faster than I could actually see; and yet still 13 mph off his record pace. And these serves were going IN.
We had seats up in the upper deck and I thought they would be bad, but the stadium is designed quite well and they really were quite good to watch the match. Next year, though, I want to be in that nice middle section. That's where all the action is.
So we leave Arthur Ashe at about 12.15 after the obligatory "finish the roll" picture session and get on the 7 local train (aka the slowboat) To manhattan, Times Square. There, we wait for another 20 minutes for the 2 to come rescue us and before we know it, we're crawling into bed at 2am. That was NOT fun. But definitely worth it.