With just about 39 hours before Evil and I put it all out there for the good folks of Brooklyn to see I'm starting to feel some nerves. We haven't received our draw yet, but I can already visualize Evil and I cutting our way through the field of 128 to meet in the finals. Something about single elimination seems so cruel though. To think that after all that practice we might be eliminated before we know it by some dopey 12 year old with donut crumbs on his chin really makes you stop and appreciate what Roger Federer has done. It also makes you hate kids. I'll be wearing my all whites with blue wrist bands and my heart on my sleeve. Let's win one for The Hose, Evil.
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