There she goes. Maria Sharapova is retiring from tennis. And with that, the sport becomes… a lot quieter.
I remember I had a huge crush on her the first time I saw her play because I was watching her on a TV in a doctor’s office waiting room (no sound). That crush went poof the next time I saw her play with volume. Her grunting is one of the most absurd, obnoxious things I’ve ever seen.
In a sport where the chair umpire routinely asks the crowd to be silent during a point, it made no sense that she was allowed to legitimately scream every time she hit the ball. Watch this shit:
A friend of mine once likened it to listening to a hardcore porno. I think it sounds a lot more violent than that. Like why is nobody coming to help this poor woman? If you hear those sounds outside at night, you either call 9-1-1 or run to help, depending on your martial arts experience.
She wrote up her retirement speech in an article in Vanity Fair. It doesn’t mention her doping scandal. Nor does it mention the time she was engaged to Sasha Vujacic, and how he would come to all her matches. That was pretty cool, I thought. They would have had very tall babies. Loud though. Screaming, tall babies.
Her piece reads like an Athlete’s Tribune piece—a bit fluffy, not a whole lot to really sink one’s teeth into. Even so, you can’t ignore how big of a force, and face, she was for tennis for all those years. Twitter sent her off with a lovely swan song, waving their white handkerchiefs and dabbing tears of appreciation as she begins this next chapter:
There were a few supporters, like Phil Jordan, who apparently discovered twitter today.
Thanks for the mems, Maria!