Thirty Love

Anyone who has stopped by the Rutledge house over the past week or called to talk to us may have heard a South African's voice resonating throughout the house in the background. That's because Cliff Drysdale is the most popular man in our house these days. Some of you may not know this, but Amy is an avid tennis junkie especially when the major tournaments roll around. For the past week the Australian Open has dominated the television at our house. The DVR is filled with four-hour blocks of tennis recordings. Law & Order has been officially booted from the programming schedule. My pleas for an occasional break to enjoy the utter brilliance of Jack McCoy breaking down a defendant on the witness stand fall on deaf ears. Instead I go to bed with the sound of Drysdale calling a match that won't end until 3:00 in the morning. When I wake up, Amy is out in the living room searching through the late-night recordings to queue up for the day. Instead of breakfast at Wimbledon, we have breakfast with Cliff at the Rutledge house.

I try to convince Amy that Australia is actually a far-off land that is three weeks ahead of us and that all these matches have already taken place. "Roger Federer wins," I promise her. But she isn't buying it.

"Keep it down, honey. I can't hear Cliff."

The fortnight is over come Sunday at which time this smooth South African will leave our house....until May when the French Open rolls around.