But it is okay to post photos of scantily clad women.  I have been the victim of some sexist agenda but I have moved on.  In this intense and mysterious collection, I plan to give the women readers here on Bleachers their due albeit in a more subtle way. 

Forget the title, see if you can identify the groins of these several key players on the tennis circuit.   Look  especially for the player I like to call Va-Va Wawrinka. 

Begin Slideshow

Are you longing to the glory days of tennis?

Can't keep up with the new and upcoming faces of the racket sport?

Do you remember the days when tennis was about hitting the ball to the other side of the court and not worrying about top-spin, racket technology, or which banana or power drink was needed for replenishment on the change-over?

Do you hate having to watch players towel off after every single point?

Well, have we got news for you. Ronco, in association with Hack Productions, brings you...

The Three Baseliners In Concert

Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, and Andy Murray sing the praises of the older generation of tennis players.  They sing their hearts, hearkening to the days when men's tennis shorts were...well...just short!  Here they are singing that classic song:

Johnny Mac (Sung to the tune Jimmy Mac)

Johnny, Johnny, oh Johnny Mac when are you coming back

Johnny, Johnny, Oh Johnny Mac when are you coming back. 

My arms are tired blue, no one hits the ball like you

I am going to lose the set when you charge to the net!

Johnny, Johnny, oh Johnny Mac when are you coming back

Johnny, Johnny, Oh Johnny Mac when are you coming back. 

Yes, when the Three Baseliners get singing you'll be wishing for chippin and charging. Here they are singing about another baseliner Ivan Lendl tribute:

Robot Man (Sung to the tune Nowhere Man)

He's a real robot man. 

Hitting all his wild forehands

Doesn't give a chance to win for nobody.

Never sad and never jolly

Doesn't know the serve and volley

Making all his Wimbledon plans for nobody.

Order now and get a five-setter of walloping hits sung by the best movers and shakers around!  The Three Baseliners drive home their points so well there is no return service.  Here they are grinding it out in a daring but glowing tribute to Bjorn Borg:

I'm a Borg (Sung to the tune "Bitch")

I'm a Borg, I'm a stroker

I am stern not a joker, there is nothing I can't do

I send right across to you

I'm a God, I am Thor

I am better than before

I can hit down the line

Wimbledon will be mine

You know I couldn't have it any other way.

Purchase this package now and we will send you a free Rafael Nadal/Roger Federer duet performance.  Watch and admire their unswerving dedication and passion as they sing:

To All The Players I Beat Before (sung to "To All The Girls I Have Loved Before)

Nadal:  To all di players I beat before

Federer:  We bagled their asses out the door. 

Nadal: I know it may be wrong.

Federer: But we enjoyed it all along

Both:  To all the players we beat before.

Call our operators now and mention the code "Tim Ruffin's a hack" and we will give you the entire collection for the low, low price of $49.99USD (that is 249 pounds if you are a Murray fan).  Our operators are standing by hoping to get your credit card. 

Soon you'll be hearing "The Three Baseliners" crooning it out for a glowing Rod Laver tribute:

Tie Me Tennis Shoes Up, Mate (Sung to the tune Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport)

Tie me tennis shoes up, mate.

Tie me tennis shoes up.

I've been falling all over the place

Tie me tennis shoes up. 

You'll get these and other great songs like the Andre Agassi-inspired "Crystal Meth Persuasion" and the Tipsarevic-inspired "I wear my sunglasses on court."

Call and order now and we'll even send you the crappy wooden racket that Bjorn Borg won his first tournament with. Our operators are standing by!

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

It was a suave French restaurant which boasted two stories of fine atmosphere and dining.  There were loyal patrons on both floors soaking up the elegant ambiance and quite ambivalent to its exorbitant pricing.

Djokovic:  You having something from the seafood section, Fish?

Fish:  Very funny, Joker.  Gawd, you should have been in stand-up.  Your jokes, your impressions and the way you look when a shot does not go your way....

Roddick:  Come on, ladies.  Let's get down to why we are really here.  Let's get this five course sucker started with an appetizer.  Waiter!

Waiter:  (In a French accent) Good evening, Monsieurs.  May I take your ordeur.

Roddick:  Yeah, I am going to have five cheeseburgers, onion rings, a slurpee....

Djokovic:  Hold on there B-Rod...

Roddick:  It's A-ROD....A...like the first letter in the alphabet or is that not the first in the Serbian one..what is it...Alpha? Call me Alpha Rod...

Djokovic:  Look, you cannot go ordering American fast food in a French restaurant.  (To the waiter) Monsieur est-ce que vous pouvez porter les escargot pour tout le monde avec un belle bouteille du vin?

Waiter:  Bien sur, Monsieur.  Je reviens.

Fish: What the hell was that all about?

Djokovic: I just ordered the appetizers and a nice bottle of wine.

Fish:  Awesome dude.  I don't care what kind of crap they make here as long as they cook the red meat medium rare that is all I care about. 

Roddick:  Hey Fish you did quite well out there before the US Open.  Joker, you did well from the start of the US Open.

Fish:  And you did well at neither events.

Roddick:  Get off of my back, Fish.  Do you realize that each of us has beaten Roger Federer.  How many people can boast about that?

Djokovic:  Um... Nadal, Berdych, Baghdatis, Murray...

Roddick:  You know what Djoker, just shut up.  Okay.  Shut up.  Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else finding a new ailment in case you have to retire?

Fish:  Hey guys.  We are here to binge.  Cut the crap, here comes the waiter.

The waiter serves them with freshly baked escargot swimming in a delicious garlic sauce. The three men devour the appetizer.

Fish: That was great.  What the hell was that?

Djokovic:  In the interest of everyone involved, I will tell you later on in the evening.  I went ahead and pre-ordered the main course and you guys are going to love it.  This place serves the best Beef Bourguignon ever.  They are going to bring it out and leave the pot in the middle of our table.

Roddick: An all you can eat beef buffet?  That is awesome!!!

Fish: Truly excellent!!

Five minutes later, the waiter brings out a huge pot of Beef Bourguignon and places it at the middle of the table.  He gives each athlete a healthy portion of buttery smooth mashed potatoes. The men eat at a ravishing pace and in only slow down about 45 minutes later.  Finally, all of them pull to a slow stop and each one is holding their belly. 

Fish:  Oh my stomach!  I used to be able to put this away with no problem but I am not sure I am going to keep this down. 

Roddick:  Me too.  This stuff really weighs you down.  It came down with a vengeance and my stomach has a little bounce.

Djokovic: I guess this is as good as any time to tell you that the appetizers that you ate were really snails swimming in garlic. 

That revelation was the last straw for Mardy Fish.  He stood up but his newly grown belly caught the end of the table hurling its contents over to the unsuspecting patrons eating below. Large amounts of Beef Bourguignon splattered all over the floors, tables and people's faces. 

The large heavy pot landed square on top of an obese bald man who was eating a Waldorf salad.  He ate a piece of the beef before realizing what happened.  "Not bad" was all he said before conking out of consciousness and falling to the floor.  His nagging wife got up and looked at him.

Nagging Wife:  You see, I told you red meat was bad for you but oh no does he listen...

High above the wavering chaos, the three men watched in horror the calamity that their fallen food had caused.  Watching at the rail, Roddick was the first to hurl downwards adding his own contents to the swirling pandemic below. 

Fish, not to be outdone, followed suit.  Djokovic who did not feel sick, felt compelled to vomit to keep the bond of friendship between them intact.  Meanwhile, the first floor patrons slipped and slithered to the exits adding their own regurgitation to the growing sloth. 

After all the accounts were settled with the restaurant, the three went out the back exit and stood on the street waiting for their rides.

Fish: Well, we will have to do this again sometimes. 

Roddick:  Yeah but not here though. 

Djokovic:  With all the money we threw at this restaurant, I still do not think they will have us back. 

Roddick: Strange as this may seems, I am hungry again.  Anyone for Skyburgers?

Fish: I am in. 

Djokovic: Me too.  But this time I think we will do take out and maybe eat in the limo. 

Roddick: I am with you on that one.  Let's go. 

END OF BINGE I

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

First Set Highlights

Williams: Aargh!

Schiavone:  Aw hee!

Williams: Aargh!

Schiavone: Aw hee!

Second Set Highlights

Schiavone: AW HEE!

Williams: AARGH!

Schiavone: AW HEE!

Commentator:  That is great tennis.  The crowd is even into it.  They are helping either player by softly chanting AARGH or AW HEE when that particular player is about to hit the ball.

In a completely unrelated incident, a 47-year-old man staying at a seedy hotel in the Bronx, phoned the police when he kept hearing his neighbor's television up to loud.  He described what he thought was a Nadal-Sharapova tennis match. 

Raphael Nadal: UNGHHHH!

Maria Sharapova: APPOOO!

Rafael Nadal: UNGHHHHH!

Maria Sharapova: APPOOO!

The neighbor continued to notice that the tennis shots must have gotten faster because each player was picking up speed and volume.  Strangely, it all seemed to subside with a large UNGGGHHHAPPPOOOOOOOO!

The police arrived and all were completely surprised that the real Rafael Nadal and Maria Sharapova came out of the room holding lit cigarettes.  Upon going their separate ways Sharapova gave a Nadal a little smack on the rear and cooed a small "appooo."

No charges were laid. 

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

I am Dr. Gregory House, and before you go any further with this slide show, I am a FICTITIOUS character from a FICTITIOUS television program. I do not exist. Any problems, just blame the writer. He gets paid for writing this crap. 

My character has laced sarcasm, so if you're not into that, move on or just watch it and take it personally. I personally don't care. 

Here are the highlights of the US Open which I shall review, analyze, and mock to my non-existent heart's content. Remember, I am just a character. 

Sit back, enjoy, comment, and please—at the end of the day:

Leave the article up. 

Begin Slideshow

Your articles have been coming out like "Ellen" with her big announcement from her sitcom.  It has been slow, painful to watch, and the climax was like ..."oh it's a gay thing."

Now, I don't want to get off on a rant here people, but do you call yourselves writers?  I've seen better writing on a grimy inside of the men's' bathroom stall.  At least that takes my mind of the minor constipation caused by the one too many cheese nachos from Taco Bell. Bad news is that I got to get out before 2:30 rolls around. 

You people at Bleacher Report carry on like you actually know these tennis players.  Have you ever actually talked to these people outside their sport?  Ever talked to Roger Federer on an escalator to a three-story department store?  No, because he doesn't go there and if he did, you would be stammering there in front of him like Forrest Gump trying to figure out which chocolate is giving him the hives. 

The people I like most about B/R are the plagiarists.  If you don't know what plagiarism is, look it up on someone's article and then copy and paste it on your own. Might as well also do the same with "originality" and cap it off with that great word "irony."

As we speak, there are at least three articles up that are stating that Roger Federer's career is over.  Did you guys get together for a sleepover before deciding that all of you were going to spew the same pajama party sh*t? Were you keeping an air tight alibi for each other?

Then we have the Rafa haters, the Roger haters, the Novak lovers.  These articles are like a mixed party snack gone bad.  You never know which one of them is going to make you vomit before it's too late. 

How about those classy, stylish people who call themselves the Brits?  I tip my hat off to you, wave my bowl of strawberries at you, smile before I curtly declare:

Get the f*ck off of Murray's back already, you vulturous snobby geeks from Coronation Street.  "Oh Dear, Murray has disappointed us again."  If you showed him half the support you have for lower life animal forms, you might want to have a "jolly old chap" victory celebration when he reaches the fourth round.  Then, maybe, then he will play freely without the weighted burden of British fanny fans on his shoulders.

Here's a revelation for all you soft hearts out there who feel for these athletes when they lose.  You know what, SOMEONE has to lose.  These athletes get paid a lot of money win or lose. 

My heart goes out to Novak Djokovic for his loss against Rafael Nadal.  Because $200,000 is not enough to assuage his ego, he needs my sympathy to boot.  Poor Roger Federer lost and collected a mere $150,000 and probably the bonus for maybe winning the US Open series.  God, I feel so bad for him.  

Lastly, I know I am going to get the comments from the various imbeciles out there not brainy enough to read HUMOR (or HUMOUR if you are Canadian).  If you don't understand the tone, google Dennis Miller and look up "rant."  "Oh I didn't like his rant, it was too angry!" 

Support your fellow female writers on this site before you click on the soft porn links.  Of course, that is just my opinion and I could be wrong.

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

He remembered now.  He pilfered two ears of corn from a farmer's field.  Unfortunately, the farmer had his four acres of corn under video surveillance and called the local authorities.  Now two police cars were in hot pursuit of the ever-sprinting-ahead Bourne. 

They surrounded him.  He stood with his hands in the air as the three police officers approached him.  In one swift move he karate chopped, kicked and subdued the officers instantaneously.  However, in his "too quick for the eye" movements, he also elbowed himself in the back of the head, knocking himself out cold.

He woke up on a small town Iowa prison cell.  He was strapped tightly to his chair which was bolted to the floor.  A huge obese man garbed in a local authority uniform with an over-sized belt holding up a gun and a baton.

Deputy:  I am Deputy Amos E. Anderson.  You are going to talk to me and start by stating your name and where your from. 

Bourne: I got nothing to say to you.

Deputy:  Then let the torture begin. Fellas come in here.

The fellow officers come in and the deputy leaves the room.  They work Bourne over for two and a half hours.  His face is littered with bruises, black eyes and puffed out lips.  He is coughing out blood when the deputy walks back in.

Deputy: Well now.  You got something to say, now's the time to say it. 

Bourne:  You won't get anything out of me.  I am the best at what I do. 

Deputy: Oh and what is that?

Bourne:  If I told you, I wouldn't be the best.  Let's just say that I am a Roger Federer at what I do.

Deputy: Roger Federer, huh?  You like him?

Bourne:  He is the best. No questions about it. 

Deputy: In that case, Mr. Mystery man.  We have a treat for you.  Hank, bring that DVD machine with the projector in here.  Bring the Roger Federer loop film in here as well.

As they set the DVD projector up, the deputy had a wry grin on his face.  Bourne continued to look out ahead, ready for more physical torture. 

Deputy: Face him toward the projecting wall and make sure he is tightly bound that he cannot look away.  Oh and make sure those metal clamps forcing his eyes open are on tight. 

Deputy:  May I present the Federer-Djokovic match already in progress.  The score is presently 5-4 for Roger Federer and he has two match points.  Oh and just in case you missed it, this part has been looped over again and again. 

The highlight reels plays over and over again.  Bourne starts to breathe in quick paces.  His veins bulge and bulge.  He starts to shake convulsively.  After the second loop starts, he looks about to explode.

Bourne:  ARGGH.  Okay, Okay I will talk.  My name is Jason Bourne and I took those corn.  I'll do whatever you want.  Just stop the DVD....just stop it!!!!!"

Deputy:  Ok, Hank.  That'll do.  Mr. Bourne that will be $4025.

Bourne: $4025?  It was two ears of corn I took!

Deputy:  Well, that is $25 for both ears of corn, $2000 for the officers you took down, $1500 for my time spent interrogating you and $500 for the DVD rental equipment.  

Bourne:  This is outrageous!  

Deputy:  Hank, run that footage again and program it to stop tomorrow morning.

Bourne:  Okay, Okay!  I will pay it. I'll pay the $4025.

Deputy: You mean $6025.

Bourne: What ...um I mean yes I will pay it.  Just let me out of here.

Bourne pays the fee and sets off on the lonely Iowa road.

Deputy:  Hank, keep that DVD guarded safely.  It's a real Iowa cash cow.    

The officers giggle amongst themselves and head out to their local donut shop.

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

Nadal has been sporting the same outfit that Federer wore three years ago, being dubbed "Darth Federer" during the evening matches. 

Nadal was not coy for his reasoning. "I nid every chance to win US Open.  If I look like Rog, I will win like heem." 

On the other end of the deal, Federer is rumored to be planning to sport the pirate attire complete with wife beater and Capri shorts for the French Open.  He is also reported to have been working on his loud groans when returning service. "If this does not work, I am going to build a huge clay castle on the side of the court and bury some unpleasant treasure."

Other players in negotiation for trade in style is Novak Djokovic and Marcos Baghdatis.  Djokovic is planning on growing his hair long and sporting a kerchief (Baghdatis-style) complete with a shiny crucifix.  He is now adopting the habit of kissing the ground wherever he goes. 

For his part, Baghdatis is planning to get a buzz cut and go shirtless at the conclusion of his matches.  He has also been working on his Berdych and Soderling impersonations. 

World No. 4 Andy Murray was perplexed.  "I cannot understand their thinking.  Did Rafa's sponsors run out of the pink colour?  He's a good friend of mine so hopefully he will take my advice to stick with something different than the black.  Personally, I would go after the Federer 2005 US Open outfit.  Just one thing stopping me though—my pride for being original." 

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

In a closed ATP award ceremony in Toronto, Canada last night, Roger Federer was given a torch that he was to hand over to Rafael Nadal to congratulate him on being the new world's number one in tennis. 

As Nadal waited awkwardly, Roger made his way up the steps towards the podium with the flaming torch.  However, Federer missed the last step and fell forward towards Nadal's knees. 

It seemed like it was a moment frozen in time with Roger holding the torch on Rafa's knees.   However in reality it was a good minute and it actually looked like Roger was out doing a good barbecue. 

"Arrgghh!!!"  Nadal winced out in pain.  "My knis!!!  My knis.", he screamed out. 

Roger dropped the torch and went to Nadal's aid as did most of people there.  After a few more minutes, they decided to put Rafa in a stretcher and whisk him off to the hospital.

Before Rafa left, he made a desperate hand motion towards the torch which was still burning on the floor.  Roger picked up the torch.

"Don't worry Rafa.  Take a good year off to recuperate and umm.. you know, it looks like you won't be needing this now, right?  I mean, I'll hold on to it until...umm you know ... you feel you think you can come back and get it again, you know? 

"I mean, it will be interesting to see if you can come back, you know.  So don't worry it is in good hands should you come back, you know?  Okay, thanks and bye and umm.. I will be by for a visit after the next grand slam okay?

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com

Bleacher Report reporter Robert Orzechowski bet the farm and all of his savings on a Soderling victory and, upon seeing the results, threw his computer and television out the window in disgust. 

Bleacher Report officials were saddened by the news, but said that article views were not what they should be anyhow, and that the writer would have eventually been sacked.

A spokesman for B/R, who wished to remain anonymous, further commented. 

"Readers do not come to Bleacher Report to read stupid articles of such brash silliness. They come to read analysis of unpaid sportswriters.  Half of them don't get the humor and the other half cannot find the tennis page." 

"We need to cater to our readers which are mostly men in their mid-20's to mid-50's who have never been out on a first date. This is where the half-naked babe advertisements come in."

"Our sports page is unique in that it caters to sports and masturbation simultaneously. Where else are you going to find that?"

Read more Tennis news on BleacherReport.com