mrzz said:
Spy cameras got this:
Federer comes from the buffet table with some granolla and yougurt and meets two fellow Swiss at breakfeast.
-- Morning guys. Beautifull day, isn't it? (*)
-- Yeah, beautifull day. Have you tried their black bread? It is very good.
-- Really? I'll grab a piece.
Severin Luthi is the one talking to Federer. The other one, a young physiatrist, only muttered an embarrased 'morning, Mr Federer'.
-- After casually chew some more bread, SL starts a difficult topic.
-- Look, Roger, you better not practice today...
-- Why the hell would I miss practice today?
-- Well, people are not buying the injury thing.
-- How the hell they're not buying it? I gave a speech! I said sorry! I made my best sorry smile. What they wanted? They wanted me to cry again? I'm sick of it...
-- I don't know Roger, but they're not buying. The comments on the ATP site are not too good, the people on the foruns are not buying it.
-- On my site?
-- Of course they are buying it on your site. But...
Federer sighs. -- Ok, I see. You are probably using that one as reference.
-- Which one?
-- That one where you have a funny moniker. The one full of Rafa fans.
-- Well... that too, but that's not the only one. Anyway it is exaclty them you have to convince.
Federer sighs again. Slams the table -- Damn! All right, all right, I won't practice.
Silence.
-- Damn!
--Look, Roger, I know it is hard, but we have to do it. We'll say it on the presser. We'll have to adress Stan's match too.
-- My life is a living hell... why can't he do it alone?
-- Well, we have to look like a team. But, hey, this is funny, right? They all think is Mirka.
-- Yeah, yeah... at least she can control one of the twin girls... I'll have to fix this myself again.
The physio was listening carefully to everything, trying desperately to find an inteligent remark. He got up to get himself some coffe, and put up all his courage to say:
-- Well, at least the boys are still young. Boys are always worst, right?
After he leaves, Federer looks at Luthi, gets up, and while leaving says angrily:
-- Make sure this guy is fired by the afternoon.
(*) translated from Swiss German
Scene 2:
Marco Chiudinelli finds and abruptly approaches Stefan Edberg in one of the hotel corridors.
-- Stefan, please, I am hearing Stan crying in his room, you gotta do something about it.
-- Really? Are you sure? Okay, but...
-- Yes, I am sure. Please, please, you need to help.
-- Ok, ok, but I really do not know what to do. I don't even know if I am supposed to do something. In fact, I do not have a clue about what to do.
-- But you gotta do something.
-- Wait a second, I'm not your team captain, I'm not even Swiss. Why would I know what to do about a grown man crying in his bed? Why don't you look for Severin?
-- I don't know where he is. I found you.
-- Well, for starters, go to his room.
-- I don't know where it is.
-- What the hell are you doing here, then? Aren't you part of this team?
-- I am sorry, I went shopping with Michael, ok.
-- yeah, yeah, ok. Why don't you speak to Stan?
-- How can I speak to him? I don't speak french! Io sono italiano svizzero! Parlo italiano! Stan's english is even worst than mine!
-- Boy, you people are complicated. Let's find Severin, then.
Rush, rush, there they go. They find him in the lobby.
-- Severin, Marco says Stan is crying in his room. I don't think he wants to leave it and go to practice.
-- There he is, then. What in the world can I do about it?
-- Well, I guess that you were, you know, used to these situations..
-- Me? Hell no! Why would I be... oh, I see..
Luthi stops to take a breath, calms down and speaks at a slower pace.
-- Look, that all was staged, ok? The guy is a top pro, he trained years for that.
The other two look a bit perplexed, but Luhti goes on.
-- Anyway, let's find him, Roger will know what to do.
Off they go. Walk, walk, walk, run, run, run, knock, knock, knock.
-- Roger!
-- What you guys are doing here? Shouldn't you all be on court, with Stan?
-- That's the problem, he does not want to leave his room. Marco says he is crying. Could you hear if he was saying something, Marco?
-- I don't know, I don't speak french... maybe something like "Je suis un bébé... " I don't know the rest.
-- "pPeurnichard" -- Federer completes, while they could hear a child crying. -- Scheisse!! What a jerk! Why are you guys asking me for help, that's your job, Severin!
-- I know, I know, but I was without ideas...
The child keeps crying. Roger gets really angry:
-- Ideas! That's why I pay you two idiots for! Ideas! Why anyone but me can't have a single fucking idea?
-- ZAVRI SAKRA HUBU!!!
The four men suddenly stop, scared.
-- Mighty Thor, what was that?
-- PRESTAT PLAKAT SAKRA!!!
Complete silence. The child has stopped crying.
-- That was Mirka, I think she had enough from the boys.
-- I just had an idea! I had an idea!! I had an idea!
Severin walks timidly to he room where the scream came from. -- Mirka?
-- WHAT?
Mirka is red faced, the hair is a complete mess.
-- Hi... sorry, your husband's country needs you.
-- My husband's country is a land of sissys. What the hell do you want from me? Can't you see I'm occupied with these devils?
-- We need you to talk to Stan..
-- Stan?! That cry-baby? Perfect, I would loooove to talk to him just know.
After some debate, the fivesome take Stan's room direction. Federer stay some steps behind, and whispers to himself:
-- Just perfect, I'll be the hero again.