Yesterday Adam and I started watching Roger Federer's coronation as the greatest tennis player to ever live (a.k.a. the Finals of the US Open), and, upon seeing Federer on the screen, he asked:
That's Roger Federer, I replied, the best tennis player in the world. He may well be the greatest to ever play the game. That's the sort of thing Dad's should say in "historic" sports moments, right?
Then the screen widened to reveal the man smacking forehands right back to Federer, so Adam asked:
And who's that other guy?
That's Novak Djokovic. He's only twenty-years-old, but he's already ranked number three in the world.
Always curious, Adam asked me another question:
Who's number two?
Rafael Nadal, I answered this apparently easy question. Then I explained:
He got beat by David Ferrer earlier this tournament. That's why he's not playing against Federer in the Final.
That didn't satisfy Adam:
No, Daddy... he almost sighed, with the patience of one about to drop some proper knowledge on his old man, I'm number two!
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