Break Points: Redfoo Wishes He Could Cryogenically Freeze His Love with Vika

Notable Results:

Bastad QF: Carlos Berlocq d. David Ferrer 6-3, 6-3
Stuttgart QF: Roberto Bautista-Agut d. Guillermo Garcia-Lopez 3-6, 6-4, 7-6(1)
Stuttgart QF: Lukas Rosol d. Feliciano Lopez, 4-6, 6-3, 7-6(4)
Bad Gastein QF: Shelby Rogers d. Camila Giorgi 6-1, 7-5

News and Analysis:

You asked for creepy stalkerazzi photos from Novak Djokovic’s wedding? Daily Mail delivers.

They also have the scoop on the Vika-Redfoo breakup.

‘I want to cryogenically freeze the love, put it in a lab, and come back to it when everything is organised and I can appoint another captain of the ship,’ the quirky singer said.

Robin Soderling (I miss him so much!) talked to the Wall Street Journal about his tennis ball brand:

The extra, albeit mostly unwelcome, free time, coupled with a longstanding fascination with the tools of his trade, led the two-time French Open finalist to contemplate ventures anew.

“A few years ago someone asked me, ‘What is the best ball?’ ” the 29-year-old Soderling said. “I couldn’t come up with an answer. There are a lot of good balls on the market, but I personally didn’t have one favorite so that’s when I started to think about it.

“When I got sick and couldn’t play, I started to think about it even more and do some research.”

Soderling initially didn’t intend on selling the balls, but as his research grew so did his appetite to turn entrepreneur.

Steve Tignor writes eloquently about the absence of two colleagues at Wimbledon.

More than one reporter echoed that thought at Wimbledon this year—it felt “weird” without Matt [Cronin]. It was weird not to hear him narrating matches from his desk. Weird not to hear him engaging with players in the interview room. Weird not to see him slam his hands down when he couldn’t type any more and announce, “Time for a cigarette.” Weird not to hear him, in the middle of a typically hectic, I-have-10-things-to-do-at-once kind of day at a Grand Slam, take a minute to call his son in California and remind him that he needed to sign up for his water polo team. Weird not to hear his raspy laugh at a midnight dinner when the day was done. Weird, most of all, not to see Matt sitting high in his press-room seat, up on his toes, with his back straight, punching away at his laptop. I never realized how much I slouched until I sat next to Matt.

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