We’re in New York, you guys.
It might be grey and dirty outside and we may not have our precious yellow Optus what a shot signs. We’re clad in New York summer raingear as opposed to our colourful Aussie tennis ensembles. The subway ride is far cry from our quick zip to Melbourne Park on the Sandy line, and we’re not sure whether Flushing Meadows is going to be anywhere near as hospitable as our usual January home away from home.
Instead of clutching meat pies and shivering into our navy blue footy scarves as we bring on September from the nosebleeds in the MCG, we will be gallivanting the courts of New York City and looking for the elusive joy that lives on Court Thirteen.
It’s the US Open, lovelies, and M and I will be bringing it to you at Court Thirteen, just like old days.
So buckle up. It’s January, in September.
Tennis up over, here we come!