“No. Why? I think I’m right when he should pronounce my name in the same way. I’m feeling good. I mean, you can ask me before how you should pronounce my name.”
Julia Goerges is convinced that Wimbledon umpires should pronounce her name the right way and is affronted if he or she doesn’t.
What she really meant:
“Ask me how my name’s pronounced , please!”
What she definitely didn’t:
“What’s in a name (mispronounced)? A rose (mispronounced) is still a rose.”

This year’s French Open is not about Roger Federer. Was it ever? Except for that little aberration in 2009, with Rafa missing.
It’s centres on that Serbian upstart Novak Djokovic and that muscled monster, Rafael Nadal.
Who’s Roger, indeed?
You think that maybe he’s vulnerable , that maybe, just maybe, the challenge of Djokovic and the younger brigade is too much to push back; it’s just too much pressure to hold on but then along comes clay season, and Rafael Nadal rises to the occasion, undulating effortlessly to the top.
“You can’t touch me here, I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee” is what the Majorcan sings out, scything through the field like a knife through melted butter.
This Sunday, it was the Barcelona Open making it two out of two for the Spaniard on his favourite surface this year.
Once again, it was his compatriot David Ferrer who succumbed to the No. 1’s might.
Image via Wikipedia
The WTA Tour may have shut down shop for the year. But the International Tennis Federation show rolls on. And doesn’t Sania Mirza know it.
The 24-year-old won the $75,000 Al Habtoor Tennis Challenge knocking over Serbian Bojana Jovanovski in the final 4-6, 6-3, 6-0.
The little known Serb is her nation’s No. 3. Her favourite book: The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari.