I Hate Televised Tennis

I have an announcement.

It is shallow. But it still needs to be said.

I hate televised tennis.

Is there a more boring sport to watch on t.v.? I can put up with curling, soccer, sometimes even golf with the right motivation.

But tennis? Hate it.

First there are the never-ending pong noises of the balls hitting the racquets. It’s like listening to a game of Pac Man, mind-deadening at best. The background murmurs of people from the stands… that’s annoying, too.

Where’s a solid, “Yee haw!” or “Yes!”?! Nope, instead it’s restrained mumbles of support or grief.

The watchers leave the loud noises to the players.

Proof? The very, very strange grunting noises tennis players feel compelled to make.

It’s a small, fluorescent yellow ball, hit hard enough to traverse a maximum space of 78 feet! If my toddler can launch a ball with vicious intent 45 feet in rambunctious play, help me understand why a full grown adult, muscular and intentional, needs to squawk like they’re in their death throes while whapping a tiny ball at a hapless opponent?

This is not Braveheart. There are no 50 lbs. swords being thrown around here. The average weight of a tennis racquet is 10-to-11-ounces.

That’s like a Q-Tip.

Give me a break!

The final thing that drives me crazy about televised tennis is the announcers. The powers that be seem to think if someone has a British accent, they’re a shoe-in to protect the classiness of the sport.

snore….

what? huh? oops, sorry. I feel asleep there for a moment watching a small ball flying through the air, it’s movements narrated by the nasal, soothing, masculine voice speaking the Queen’s English.

So, there you have it. Three reasons I hate televised tennis.

But my husband likes it. And last night he threw his back out by performing the death-defying move of turning over in bed.

There weren’t even any grunts.

So, I’ll leave him and his love affair with Federer alone.

For today.

What’s your most hated televised sport?