Gratuitous Calves and Asses at the BNP

Well, for those who know me, you know this isn't normally my thing.  Ahem.  But, so many of you have asked to see a bevy of crotch shots, I thought it would be nice to post a few here.  Now that Johnny Ray is nearing the end of his poignant insights into the BNP Paribas Open, I thought I would post the less, well, less artistic shots from my time there and perhaps a few of my impressions.
Please also read his astute reviews of a fantastic week of tennis along with my more formal shots from the week at the following SF Bay Guardian links.

Umbrella weather: A glimpse of the future during the BNP Paribas Open

The net: Young victory and top-ranked tennis musings at the BNP Paribas Open

Looky-loos and show ponies: A day in the life at the BNP Paribas Open

Tennis' top three switch positions, A Final Look at the BNP Paribas Open

 Greg, this one's for you.

So I had a fantastic time with my old friend Johnny Ray, who is a huuuuge tennis fan and filled me in on all the who's its and what's its in the tennis world.  Yet another subculture that I had no idea about.  If I knew which names to drop I would, but I basically would see big calves walking toward me and nudge Johnny "who's that?!"  

We both couldn't figure out that Pau Gosol was sitting at the table next to us eating with a bunch of hottie chicks, until I saw it on the local news later that night. 

And for those of you looking forward to some Roger Federer images, sorry, I just couldn't bring myself to post any.  All his images were like glowing sparkling gems, his crisp white shorts glistening against his bulging quadraceps, but his face ruins it for me.

 oh my
 put your shirt back on, you're ruining it for me.
 guess who

 hey girl hey

 After awhile I gave up on the "get that thong out of your ass" images, you do anything enough, it gets boring.

 I've got a shoe thing people, get over it.


 he looked at me, he looked at me

 bad image of a quirky little french guy

 For the twink chasers

 and another.


 Double whoa

there was one German fan for this guy.

 Beanpole for Johnny.

 I wanted to get this Snooky serving Ferrer right before me, but he had just lost his match and I figured he would probably get pissed. 

 At least she knows it.

 Not sure what's going on in his pants.  Well, I know he keeps balls in his pockets, but it's fun to imagine.

A trio of meats.

I had hoped that the BNP would fulfill my idea of Tennis as a glamorous sport with a bunch of rich Rancho Mirage residents in their Hamptons best, but it turned out to be a lot of this.

Which is great too.