i read that the recently deceased playwright harold pinter loved cricket most of all; and why shouldn’t he? like his work, the game is filled with long periods of stillness unexpectedly cut by great intricate flurries of motion. seems very british. that got me thinking about my favorite sport, men’s tennis as it’s played in the modern era – two powerful, skilled men square off, each in the hopes of forcing the other to make an error. it’s a game won or lost by minute weaknesses, all made evident by the chugging juggernaut of hours of baseline rally. i can think of nothing more emblematic of america in her days of dominance.