When Did Noah Build the Ark?

Well, the week is wrapped up here at Wimbledon, save one five-set epic going on over at No. 1 court between a pair of swashbucklers, Spain's Juan Carlos Ferrero and Chile's Fernando Gonzalez. You've heard of him, right Thomas?

The big buzz during the first week of play in SW19 (Wimbledon's post code, for those of you in the dark) has been the decisive lack thereof. After the dropping out of defending champ Rafael Nadal due to lingering knee problems, it seems like this particular Wimbledon is missing the traditional simmering of tension, the looming sense of excitement that a clash between the game's two giants, Nadal and Roger Federer, is coming. There are of course great storylines: the resurgence of Andy Roddick, fresh from his best-ever showing at the French Open, seeking to redeem a second-round loss from last year; a potential encore of last year's all-Williams final on the ladies' side; the Cinderella run of the 17-year old American Melanie Oudin; and of course the great British (or is he Scottish only?) hope of Andy Murray, trying to become the first Brit to win the Championships in some 70-odd years. But for all the interesting angles, I kid you not, press conferences have been reduced to quizzing Roddick about a back-and-forth with his wife (Sports Illustrated swimsuit model Brooklyn Decker) on Twitter where he criticized her musical tastes and she his. The exchange, verbatim:

Roddick had written on his Twitter feed that he was going to ban his swimsuit model wife Brooklyn from bringing her iPod into the kitchen.

"Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, I feel like it's a 24-hour loop of the Disney Channel," he wrote.

she retaliated by saying: "One of his favourites is Rick Astley (enough said). He knows a few 'N Sync dances, and he LOVES Kelly Clarkson. I promise he is far worse."

Quizzed on his taste in music, Roddick told reporters: "What do you want me to say? I said I wasn't proud, but I'm not going to lie to anybody. I busted my wife on some of her ... music. She brought up Rick Astley. I can't deny it. It's in my iPod. I bet it's in your iPod, too, so shut up."

I hereby solemnly declare that Rick Astley has not, and never will be, on my iPod. Sorry A-Rod.

If there's one absence which has managed to upstage Nadal's, it's most definitely been the daily disappointment that has come with not being able to utilize the massive, translucent quasi-greenhouse roof installed over Centre Court for the purposes of eliminating the rain delays for which Wimbledon is famous (last year's epic final between Federer and Nadal took almost 9 hours of real-time to complete due to massive showers). But with the exception of some sprinkles this evening, the weather has been nothing short of glamorous all week. Everybody's on a knife's edge wondering when the legendarily tempestous England summer is going to arrive and finally give the All England Club the chance to unveil their shiny new toy. But even in staying put, the roof has already created an unheard-of new species: Englishmen and woman who are royally pissed off at how nice the weather is!