I fell on my face.
This is not very smart, so I advise you: don’t fall on your face. My tumble was in a New York hotel, and I advise you not to that either. The injury, a ruptured quad tendon, occurred during last year’s U.S. Open, and was followed by 10 months in and out of New England Baptist Hospital, in and out of Sherrill House, a rehab facility and in and out of home. It took ten surgeries to fix a screwed up knee. More than you want to hear about.
I didn’t want to hear about it either, but a couple of days ago one of my kindly surgeons, Shahe Fareshetian, took a (maybe) last poke, and
declared: “Go to New York! Go to the Open! Fresh air will do you good. But don’t try to enter. You’re not ready for that yet.
His partner Sumon Nandi, agreed, saying, “ Take a cane and a body-guard.”
No worries there. The redoubtable “Jump Ball” Klaussen will be on hand to keep be upright.
I’ll miss Rafa Nadal, but at least he didn’t fall on his face.
I look forward to seeing tennis, friends, colleagues and fans. Even coping with rain delays. It will be good to get back.