Age of Love

Eagerly awaiting the much heralded "Age of Love" tonight starring Mark Philpos... Phillopuss...Phillopossis, you know the "bloke with the big chocko name" to quote Billy Birmingham. As much as this sounds like top shelf entertainment, with sultry Mark forced to choose between 'Kittens & Cougars" ( the original title of 40/15 was a bit of a worry ) in a search for happiness and a cheque.

My issue however is the choice of "cat food". Sure, Mark might have bagged about as many birds as Marat Safin, and he did win us a Davis cup, but surely there were many other more worthy Aussie prospects. Newk, Mark "well i guess I better have a mo then" Edmondson, Ca$hie, Woodies, Chris Guccione, Muscles, Alan Jones, these are all worthy contenders.
Even the freshly retired Wayne "satellite tour wildcard" Arthurs should have been considered, for sympathy alone.

But when you think about it, there is only one choice. . Just like Brett Kimmorley will never say "7" like Peter Sterling, the poo/Flip/Scud/#591 does not scream winner.

The wins, the sneakers, the grand slams, the sneakers, the titles, the sneakers. Sure, he might have had a couple of health complications, and the hair isn't what it once was, but if your putting Australian tennis on show, an erratic Iraqi missile is not your man,

you need a ROCKET: