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Phelpte > Rafanole?

Overshadowed by the World Cup and Wimbledon – OK, and LeBron James returning to Cleveland and baseball’s All-Star Game and lots of other sporting events/news – the recent Bulldog Grand Slam at the University of Georgia in Athens nonetheless had a pleasure all its own, Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte testing each other in a pool once more.

Is there a more pleasant rivalry? Look at the pictures from wherever, whenever they meet. They’re like two buddies who can pick up the threads of a conversation over distances and time.

“It never gets old,” Lochte says in the teamusa.org piece of swimming against his rival. “I love it. He’s the toughest racer I’ve ever had to go up against. No matter what stroke, what event, he’ll race you to the end. It’s a challenge to race against him and I’m always up for a challenge. Win or lose, no matter what, at the end of the race, we’re still going to be friends. We’re not going to hold a grudge, so, I love it.”

It helps that swimming is a relatively marginal sport, except at Olympic time – Phelps and Lochte are basically swimming to get in shape for Nationals in August  and that Phelpte are teammates as well. Whereas Rafanole are competitors locked in a continuing battle for titles and trophies attached to big prize money. Although I’m not convinced that Rafa and Nole aren’t so chummy anymore.

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The real Thorpedo

In 2012, swimmer Ian Thorpe published his memoir, “This Is Me.” Except it wasn’t. Well, not entirely.

In his memoir, Thorpe denied rumors that he was gay, said he dated only women and added that he looked forward to marrying and having children.

He may still be looking forward to marrying and having kids but it will be with a man: Thorpe recently revealed in a TV interview in his native Australia what many of us have long suspected – that he’s gay.

Jason Collins, the first openly gay player in the NBA, was among the first to tweet support. To those who are inclined to withhold such encouragement, pointing to Thorpe’s hypocrisy and deception, I say, Walk a mile in the guy’s size 17 shoes.

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Why Andy wasn’t dandy…

I know, I know, I should be writing about the World Cup and how Brazil couldn’t seem to catch a break – being shut out by the Netherlands in the consolation match – and whether or not Pope Francis has made a bet with Pope Emeritus Benedict re: the Argentina-Germany final.

But instead I find myself still on a Wimby high after Nole’s gutsy win, surfing the Net for tennis news. This is the delicious period before the start of the hard court season when tennis players take to the beach. (It’s one of the reasons I made the four athletes in my new novel “Water Music” two tennis players and two swimmers. Tennis players love water.) With Nole imposing a paparazzi blackout on his wedding – and kudos to him for keeping a private affair private – the paps have had to content themselves with delectable pix of Rafa in hot-pink board shorts.(Rrrrrrrr!) Which brings me to…

Andy Murray.

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Oh, Seiko, can you see?

It’s a perfect championship picture – an athlete poised to strike the ball with his racket, decked out in brilliant Wimbledon white against a sea of grass, muscles taut, form perfect.

Only it isn’t Novak Djokovic, the actual champion, but runner-up Roger Federer being congratulated by Rolex on the back page of the A section of The New York Times’ July 9 edition “for helping to craft an epic Wimbledon final with a sparkling demonstration of skill, tenacity and grace befitting the greatest.”

And while we’re at it, I’d like to thank Brazil for helping to craft a lopsided victory for a team whose name I won’t mention and, by the way, did you know Brazil has five World Cups? Please.

People, don’t you see what’s wrong with this?

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Nole, olé!

OK,  true story: Several weeks ago during the French Open, I had a dream in which I saw Novak Djokovic – dressed in blazing white, legs spread in typical Nole-Gumby fashion – leaning forward on a grass court, butt up in the air as he drew a white line on the green with his racket and wept.

“My God,” I thought to myself, “he’s going to win Wimbledon this year.”

Which he did, defeating Roger Federer 6-7 (7), 6-4, 7-6 (4), 5-7, 6-4 in the battle of the fertile male tennis titans. (Feddy and wife Mirka recently welcomed their second set of twins, while Nole and fiancée Jelena Ristic are expecting their first child this fall. So they have a bit of catching up to do in that tournament.)

It was no easy victory, but then for our dear Nole (pronounced "no-LAY"), it never is, is it?

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Court time with Nick Bollettieri

Legendary tennis coach Nick Bollettieri has had 10 No. 1-ranked players, including Monica Seles and Andre Agassi. So who better to turn to when we want a little sage court talk? The Pelham native is as busy as ever, coaching in the IMG Academy Bollettieri Tennis Program in Bradenton, Fla. – “that’s where I’ll remain,” he stresses – and promoting his new book,  “Changing the Game” (New Chapter Publisher, $26.95, 319 pages). I caught up with him on his return from Wimbledon, where he did commentary for the BBC early in the tournament, before he headed out to Newport, R.I. where he’ll be among those enshrined in the International Tennis Hall of Fame on July 12. Congrats, Nick!

Nick, thank you as always for taking time to answer my questions. We’re down to the final days of Wimbledon. Who do you like to win?

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Greenwich Polo Club update

There have been a few changes in the Greenwich Polo Club’s lineup since I last reported on the start of the season on June 1.

The July 13 match will now feature local artists and their works.

On Aug. 31, it’s the Virginia’s House of Hope Charity match from noon to 5 p.m. The second annual “Benefit of Hope” will have an open bar, tastings, entertainment and the time-honored tradition of halftime divot stomping, all in support of the charity’s Tugboat Program, which provides qualified candidates from underprivileged backgrounds with a career start in the maritime industry. (After the three-week program, each student is certified to work as a tugboat deckhand, which could ultimately lead to becoming a captain with a six-figure salary. House of Hope guarantees that each graduate is hired.) Tickets are $350 VIPs, $250 individuals...

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