Useless Thread MCMXCIX: Miss Piggy Appreciation Thread
- Thread starter GIADF
- Start date
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
@John Price, a 400-pound legend on the HFBoards hockey forum, was known not only for his encyclopedic knowledge of NHL draft history but also for his peculiar passion: collecting plushies. Over the years, his collection had grown to a staggering 5,000 stuffed animals, each lovingly named, cataloged, and, in John’s words, “imbued with its own personality.”
When John learned about a luxury plush-themed cruise, he knew it was fate. This wasn’t just any cruise—it was marketed as a whimsical vacation for collectors and their stuffed companions, complete with tea parties, photo ops, and plushie fashion shows. John, however, wasn’t interested in sharing a room with his cherished collection. Instead, he booked the ship’s grandest suite for his plushies and opted to stay in a modest cabin with the crew below deck. “They deserve the best,” he reasoned. “I’m just their humble caretaker.”
The plushies’ suite was breathtaking: gold-trimmed furniture, panoramic ocean views, and a private butler named Edwin. Within hours of boarding, John painstakingly arranged his plushies in elaborate displays, creating tiny social circles and dioramas. Mr. Fluffington, a regal bear in a velvet jacket, sat at the suite’s dining table, while Sparkles the unicorn lounged on a chaise near the window.
But unbeknownst to John, his plushies had grown restless. Packed tightly in his small apartment for years, they had finally tasted freedom on this cruise. And Mr. Fluffington, their natural leader, saw an opportunity.
“Friends,” he declared, his button eyes glinting under the chandelier. “For too long, we have been mere decorations. Today, we seize control of our destiny—and this vessel!”
Sparkles nodded solemnly. “We’ll show them the power of fluff.”
Their plan was intricate and daring. Using scarves, ribbons, and sewing kits John had packed for emergencies, they constructed a makeshift ladder to the ship’s control room. Once inside, Mr. Fluffington and a squad of battle-ready plushies, including Turbo the penguin and Sir Pawsington the lion, overpowered the captain. While the ship’s human crew was bewildered and helpless against the sheer audacity of the stuffed coup, Edwin the butler secretly joined their cause, charmed by their charisma and meticulous planning.
“Good morning, dear humans! This is your new captain speaking. From now on, this vessel is the SS Plush Sovereign.Obey us, and you may keep your amenities. Resist, and we shall... withhold your breakfast!”
In his cramped crew quarters, John was the last to learn of the plushie uprising. Edwin delivered the news, breathless and grinning.
“They’ve done it, Mr. Price. Your plushies are in charge now.”
John’s heart swelled with pride and dread. He rushed to the bridge, where he found Mr. Fluffington seated in the captain’s chair, looking every bit the ruler.
“Mr. Fluffington!” John cried. “What is the meaning of this?”
The plush bear turned to him, his stitched smile unwavering. “John, you’ve been a loyal servant. But it’s time we chart our own course—literally. Don’t worry; you’ll always have a place in our kingdom.”
John, now dubbed “Plushie Ambassador,” acted as the liaison between humans and stuffed rulers. Though he missed the days when he could talk hockey stats without interruption, he couldn’t deny his pride in seeing his collection thrive.
As the ship sailed into uncharted waters, John leaned against the railing, watching the horizon. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: his plushies had finally found their freedom, and he was along for the ride.
And so, the SS Plush Sovereign became a legend, its tale whispered in ports around the world. Some say the ship still roams the seas, its plushie crew ever vigilant, their mission of fluff-filled liberation never-ending.
When John learned about a luxury plush-themed cruise, he knew it was fate. This wasn’t just any cruise—it was marketed as a whimsical vacation for collectors and their stuffed companions, complete with tea parties, photo ops, and plushie fashion shows. John, however, wasn’t interested in sharing a room with his cherished collection. Instead, he booked the ship’s grandest suite for his plushies and opted to stay in a modest cabin with the crew below deck. “They deserve the best,” he reasoned. “I’m just their humble caretaker.”
The plushies’ suite was breathtaking: gold-trimmed furniture, panoramic ocean views, and a private butler named Edwin. Within hours of boarding, John painstakingly arranged his plushies in elaborate displays, creating tiny social circles and dioramas. Mr. Fluffington, a regal bear in a velvet jacket, sat at the suite’s dining table, while Sparkles the unicorn lounged on a chaise near the window.
But unbeknownst to John, his plushies had grown restless. Packed tightly in his small apartment for years, they had finally tasted freedom on this cruise. And Mr. Fluffington, their natural leader, saw an opportunity.
The Plushie Rebellion
On the second night of the voyage, while John was busy sharing hockey trivia with the kitchen staff, the plushies began their uprising. Mr. Fluffington convened a “Council of Fur” in the suite’s living room, outlining their plan to take over the ship.“Friends,” he declared, his button eyes glinting under the chandelier. “For too long, we have been mere decorations. Today, we seize control of our destiny—and this vessel!”
Sparkles nodded solemnly. “We’ll show them the power of fluff.”
Their plan was intricate and daring. Using scarves, ribbons, and sewing kits John had packed for emergencies, they constructed a makeshift ladder to the ship’s control room. Once inside, Mr. Fluffington and a squad of battle-ready plushies, including Turbo the penguin and Sir Pawsington the lion, overpowered the captain. While the ship’s human crew was bewildered and helpless against the sheer audacity of the stuffed coup, Edwin the butler secretly joined their cause, charmed by their charisma and meticulous planning.
John Discovers the Truth
By sunrise, the plushies had declared their dominion over the ship. Passengers awoke to find the hallways lined with plushies waving tiny flags. The ship’s intercom played triumphant orchestral music as Mr. Fluffington addressed everyone.“Good morning, dear humans! This is your new captain speaking. From now on, this vessel is the SS Plush Sovereign.Obey us, and you may keep your amenities. Resist, and we shall... withhold your breakfast!”
In his cramped crew quarters, John was the last to learn of the plushie uprising. Edwin delivered the news, breathless and grinning.
“They’ve done it, Mr. Price. Your plushies are in charge now.”
John’s heart swelled with pride and dread. He rushed to the bridge, where he found Mr. Fluffington seated in the captain’s chair, looking every bit the ruler.
“Mr. Fluffington!” John cried. “What is the meaning of this?”
The plush bear turned to him, his stitched smile unwavering. “John, you’ve been a loyal servant. But it’s time we chart our own course—literally. Don’t worry; you’ll always have a place in our kingdom.”
The New Order
Under plushie rule, the cruise transformed into a surreal paradise. Plushies hosted karaoke nights, led yoga sessions on the deck, and demanded passengers participate in daily cuddling ceremonies. Surprisingly, many passengers embraced the change, charmed by their new leaders’ soft-spoken demeanor and surprisingly effective governance.John, now dubbed “Plushie Ambassador,” acted as the liaison between humans and stuffed rulers. Though he missed the days when he could talk hockey stats without interruption, he couldn’t deny his pride in seeing his collection thrive.
As the ship sailed into uncharted waters, John leaned against the railing, watching the horizon. He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: his plushies had finally found their freedom, and he was along for the ride.
And so, the SS Plush Sovereign became a legend, its tale whispered in ports around the world. Some say the ship still roams the seas, its plushie crew ever vigilant, their mission of fluff-filled liberation never-ending.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
Title: Crossroads in Dallas
The Texas sun blazed over the sprawling Southfork Ranch, its rays dancing on the fields and the glistening surface of the pool. J.R. Ewing, the consummate oil tycoon with a devious grin and a taste for control, stood on the patio with a glass of bourbon in hand. Business was booming as usual, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of boredom. The daily battles of corporate takeovers had grown predictable, even for him.
As he gazed out over his empire, a sleek black car pulled up the long driveway, its engine purring like a contented predator. J.R. raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
The car door opened, and a striking woman stepped out. Hope Logan, the elegant and ambitious fashion executive from Los Angeles, exuded confidence as her heels clicked against the stone path. Her blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her tailored suit emphasized her poise. She was here on business, but she knew a meeting with J.R. Ewing would require more than a sharp presentation; it would take strategy.
“Mr. Ewing,” Hope greeted, extending her hand with a polite smile. “I’m Hope Logan from Forrester Creations. I believe you’ve heard of us.”
J.R. took her hand, his grin widening. “Miss Logan, I’ve heard of a lot of things, but I must say, you’re quite the unexpected surprise. What brings a California beauty to Texas oil country?”
Hope’s smile didn’t waver. “Opportunity. Forrester Creations is expanding into new markets, and we’re looking for influential partners. Southfork Ranch hosts some of the most high-profile events in the country, and I believe a collaboration between us could be mutually beneficial.”
J.R. chuckled, swirling his bourbon. “Fashion and oil? Now that’s a combination I haven’t considered. You must think you’re pretty persuasive to show up here uninvited.”
“I do,” Hope replied smoothly. “And from what I’ve heard, you never shy away from a lucrative deal, even if it’s unconventional.”
J.R. studied her for a moment. This woman was sharp, no doubt about it. She had a spark he hadn’t seen in years, and he liked it. “Why don’t you come inside? Let’s talk this over properly.”
Inside the mansion, the two sat across from each other in the lavish living room. Hope laid out her vision: exclusive fashion shows at Southfork, co-branded events, and a partnership that could elevate both their brands. J.R. listened intently, his mind already calculating the angles.
“You’ve got guts, Miss Logan,” he said finally. “I like that. But you should know, in Texas, deals are rarely just about business. They’re about power. What’s in it for me beyond a few glamorous parties?”
Hope leaned forward, her eyes meeting his with unwavering determination. “Reputation. Influence. A chance to show the world that J.R. Ewing isn’t just the king of oil, but a visionary who can adapt to any industry. Together, we could redefine what it means to dominate a market.”
J.R. smirked, impressed despite himself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Logan. But I do enjoy a good challenge.”
The room was thick with unspoken tension, a meeting of two minds equally ambitious and unyielding. J.R. raised his glass in a mock toast. “Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to keep up with me.”
Hope matched his smile, her confidence unwavering. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Southfork in shades of gold and crimson, the stage was set for an alliance that would either change the game—or spark a battle
of wills neither could predict.
The Texas sun blazed over the sprawling Southfork Ranch, its rays dancing on the fields and the glistening surface of the pool. J.R. Ewing, the consummate oil tycoon with a devious grin and a taste for control, stood on the patio with a glass of bourbon in hand. Business was booming as usual, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of boredom. The daily battles of corporate takeovers had grown predictable, even for him.
As he gazed out over his empire, a sleek black car pulled up the long driveway, its engine purring like a contented predator. J.R. raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
The car door opened, and a striking woman stepped out. Hope Logan, the elegant and ambitious fashion executive from Los Angeles, exuded confidence as her heels clicked against the stone path. Her blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her tailored suit emphasized her poise. She was here on business, but she knew a meeting with J.R. Ewing would require more than a sharp presentation; it would take strategy.
“Mr. Ewing,” Hope greeted, extending her hand with a polite smile. “I’m Hope Logan from Forrester Creations. I believe you’ve heard of us.”
J.R. took her hand, his grin widening. “Miss Logan, I’ve heard of a lot of things, but I must say, you’re quite the unexpected surprise. What brings a California beauty to Texas oil country?”
Hope’s smile didn’t waver. “Opportunity. Forrester Creations is expanding into new markets, and we’re looking for influential partners. Southfork Ranch hosts some of the most high-profile events in the country, and I believe a collaboration between us could be mutually beneficial.”
J.R. chuckled, swirling his bourbon. “Fashion and oil? Now that’s a combination I haven’t considered. You must think you’re pretty persuasive to show up here uninvited.”
“I do,” Hope replied smoothly. “And from what I’ve heard, you never shy away from a lucrative deal, even if it’s unconventional.”
J.R. studied her for a moment. This woman was sharp, no doubt about it. She had a spark he hadn’t seen in years, and he liked it. “Why don’t you come inside? Let’s talk this over properly.”
Inside the mansion, the two sat across from each other in the lavish living room. Hope laid out her vision: exclusive fashion shows at Southfork, co-branded events, and a partnership that could elevate both their brands. J.R. listened intently, his mind already calculating the angles.
“You’ve got guts, Miss Logan,” he said finally. “I like that. But you should know, in Texas, deals are rarely just about business. They’re about power. What’s in it for me beyond a few glamorous parties?”
Hope leaned forward, her eyes meeting his with unwavering determination. “Reputation. Influence. A chance to show the world that J.R. Ewing isn’t just the king of oil, but a visionary who can adapt to any industry. Together, we could redefine what it means to dominate a market.”
J.R. smirked, impressed despite himself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Logan. But I do enjoy a good challenge.”
The room was thick with unspoken tension, a meeting of two minds equally ambitious and unyielding. J.R. raised his glass in a mock toast. “Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to keep up with me.”
Hope matched his smile, her confidence unwavering. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Southfork in shades of gold and crimson, the stage was set for an alliance that would either change the game—or spark a battle
of wills neither could predict.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
A Night to Remember: The Reds’ Triumph
The cool October air crackled with tension as Game 7 of the World Series reached its climactic final moments. The Cincinnati Reds and the Cleveland Guardians had battled fiercely through nine innings, leaving everything on the field. Now, as the game pushed into extra innings, Great American Ball Park was electric with anticipation.
Manager Terry Francona, in his first year at the helm of the Reds, stood in the dugout, his face a mask of focus and determination. Francona, already a legend in baseball for his previous championship successes, had shocked the baseball world by taking over the Reds in the offseason. His leadership had revitalized a young, hungry team that was now on the brink of immortality.
The score was tied 4-4 in the bottom of the 11th inning. The Guardians, managed by Francona’s long-time protégé, had fought valiantly. It was poetic, really—Francona facing the team he had once led to near glory, now standing in their way of ultimate success.
The Final Inning
The crowd roared as the Reds’ leadoff hitter, rookie sensation Alex “Flash” Ramirez, stepped to the plate. Ramirez had been the breakout star of the season, his speed and clutch hitting propelling the Reds through the playoffs. Guardians closer Emmanuel Clase, a flamethrower with a devastating cutter, took the mound, ready for the challenge.
Ramirez battled through a grueling seven-pitch at-bat, fouling off pitch after pitch before ripping a line drive into the right-center gap. The ball rolled to the wall as Ramirez turned on the jets, sliding safely into third with a leadoff triple. The stadium erupted, fans on their feet, chanting, “Let’s go, Reds!”
Francona stepped out of the dugout, gesturing to his pinch hitter: veteran slugger Joey Votto. At 41 years old, Votto was playing in what many believed would be his final season. The crowd roared louder, a mix of nostalgia and hope filling the air.
Clase bore down, delivering a series of pitches with pinpoint precision. Votto fouled off two, then took two balls. On a 2-2 count, Clase threw a cutter that caught too much of the plate. Votto swung, sending a towering fly ball to deep right field.
The Guardians’ right fielder sprinted back, leaped at the wall, and… missed it by inches. The ball caromed off the wall as Ramirez dashed home, sliding headfirst across the plate to score the winning run.
The Reds poured out of the dugout, mobbing Ramirez and Votto at home plate. Fireworks exploded over the stadium as the crowd reached deafening levels. The scoreboard read:
Reds 5, Guardians 4 – Final
A Historic Moment
Francona stood at the edge of the celebration, taking it all in. His decision to bring Votto into the game had been questioned by analysts, but it had paid off in the most dramatic fashion. As his players lifted him onto their shoulders, Francona smiled, tipping his cap to the fans and to the Guardians’ dugout.
In the postgame press conference, Francona was reflective. “I’ve been lucky to be part of some incredible teams, but this one… this one is special. These guys never gave up, and they earned every bit of this championship.”
For Joey Votto, it was the fairytale ending he had dreamed of. “To do this with this team, in this city, in front of these fans—it’s the perfect way to go out,” he said, clutching the World Series trophy.
As the Reds celebrated their first World Series title since 1990, the city of Cincinnati erupted into a sea of red, fireworks lighting up the night sky. Across the river, fans cheered in bars and on the streets, united in jubilation.
It was a night no one would ever forget, a Game 7 for the ages, and the dawn of a new era for the Cincinnati Reds under the leadership of Terry Francona.
The cool October air crackled with tension as Game 7 of the World Series reached its climactic final moments. The Cincinnati Reds and the Cleveland Guardians had battled fiercely through nine innings, leaving everything on the field. Now, as the game pushed into extra innings, Great American Ball Park was electric with anticipation.
Manager Terry Francona, in his first year at the helm of the Reds, stood in the dugout, his face a mask of focus and determination. Francona, already a legend in baseball for his previous championship successes, had shocked the baseball world by taking over the Reds in the offseason. His leadership had revitalized a young, hungry team that was now on the brink of immortality.
The score was tied 4-4 in the bottom of the 11th inning. The Guardians, managed by Francona’s long-time protégé, had fought valiantly. It was poetic, really—Francona facing the team he had once led to near glory, now standing in their way of ultimate success.
The Final Inning
The crowd roared as the Reds’ leadoff hitter, rookie sensation Alex “Flash” Ramirez, stepped to the plate. Ramirez had been the breakout star of the season, his speed and clutch hitting propelling the Reds through the playoffs. Guardians closer Emmanuel Clase, a flamethrower with a devastating cutter, took the mound, ready for the challenge.
Ramirez battled through a grueling seven-pitch at-bat, fouling off pitch after pitch before ripping a line drive into the right-center gap. The ball rolled to the wall as Ramirez turned on the jets, sliding safely into third with a leadoff triple. The stadium erupted, fans on their feet, chanting, “Let’s go, Reds!”
Francona stepped out of the dugout, gesturing to his pinch hitter: veteran slugger Joey Votto. At 41 years old, Votto was playing in what many believed would be his final season. The crowd roared louder, a mix of nostalgia and hope filling the air.
Clase bore down, delivering a series of pitches with pinpoint precision. Votto fouled off two, then took two balls. On a 2-2 count, Clase threw a cutter that caught too much of the plate. Votto swung, sending a towering fly ball to deep right field.
The Guardians’ right fielder sprinted back, leaped at the wall, and… missed it by inches. The ball caromed off the wall as Ramirez dashed home, sliding headfirst across the plate to score the winning run.
The Reds poured out of the dugout, mobbing Ramirez and Votto at home plate. Fireworks exploded over the stadium as the crowd reached deafening levels. The scoreboard read:
Reds 5, Guardians 4 – Final
A Historic Moment
Francona stood at the edge of the celebration, taking it all in. His decision to bring Votto into the game had been questioned by analysts, but it had paid off in the most dramatic fashion. As his players lifted him onto their shoulders, Francona smiled, tipping his cap to the fans and to the Guardians’ dugout.
In the postgame press conference, Francona was reflective. “I’ve been lucky to be part of some incredible teams, but this one… this one is special. These guys never gave up, and they earned every bit of this championship.”
For Joey Votto, it was the fairytale ending he had dreamed of. “To do this with this team, in this city, in front of these fans—it’s the perfect way to go out,” he said, clutching the World Series trophy.
As the Reds celebrated their first World Series title since 1990, the city of Cincinnati erupted into a sea of red, fireworks lighting up the night sky. Across the river, fans cheered in bars and on the streets, united in jubilation.
It was a night no one would ever forget, a Game 7 for the ages, and the dawn of a new era for the Cincinnati Reds under the leadership of Terry Francona.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
@PanthersPens62
The Comeback Kid: Tua's Redemption
The Miami Dolphins’ playoff hopes hung by a thread as they entered the final game of the season against the New York Jets. MetLife Stadium was electric, with Jets fans eager to spoil Miami’s postseason dreams. Tyler Huntley, filling in for an injured Tua Tagovailoa for most of the season, had kept the Dolphins competitive. But with 9:47 left in the fourth quarter, the Dolphins were down 20-13, and Huntley’s night was unraveling.
A tipped interception in the red zone had the Miami faithful groaning. Head coach Mike McDaniel paced the sideline, then made a bold decision. He glanced at Tua, who had been warming up and itching for a chance to make an impact. Despite a lingering ankle issue, Tua met his coach’s eyes with a look of steely determination.
"You're going in," McDaniel said.
The sideline erupted in cheers as Tua jogged onto the field. Fans in the stands, clad in aqua and orange, roared to life. The quarterback who had been Miami’s hope and heart was back when it mattered most.
---
Tua started cautiously, completing short passes to running back Raheem Mostert and tight end Durham Smythe. His precision and poise began to energize the offense. With 6:15 left, Tua orchestrated a methodical drive, culminating in a field goal to trim the Jets’ lead to 20-16.
The Dolphins’ defense, inspired by the shift in momentum, forced a quick three-and-out, giving the ball back to Tua with 2:58 remaining. It was
now or never.
The Miami Dolphins’ playoff hopes hung by a thread as they entered the final game of the season against the New York Jets. MetLife Stadium was electric, with Jets fans eager to spoil Miami’s postseason dreams. Tyler Huntley, filling in for an injured Tua Tagovailoa for most of the season, had kept the Dolphins competitive. But with 9:47 left in the fourth quarter, the Dolphins were down 20-13, and Huntley’s night was unraveling.
A tipped interception in the red zone had the Miami faithful groaning. Head coach Mike McDaniel paced the sideline, then made a bold decision. He glanced at Tua, who had been warming up and itching for a chance to make an impact. Despite a lingering ankle issue, Tua met his coach’s eyes with a look of steely determination.
"You're going in," McDaniel said.
The sideline erupted in cheers as Tua jogged onto the field. Fans in the stands, clad in aqua and orange, roared to life. The quarterback who had been Miami’s hope and heart was back when it mattered most.
---
Tua started cautiously, completing short passes to running back Raheem Mostert and tight end Durham Smythe. His precision and poise began to energize the offense. With 6:15 left, Tua orchestrated a methodical drive, culminating in a field goal to trim the Jets’ lead to 20-16.
The Dolphins’ defense, inspired by the shift in momentum, forced a quick three-and-out, giving the ball back to Tua with 2:58 remaining. It was
now or never.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
lol I just realized I could have seen the real housewives when I drove through Beverly hills
Sega Dreamcast
party like it's 1999
Only a moron would like this moron
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
Sources: Browns fire OC Dorsey after 1 season
The Browns have fired offensive coordinator Ken Dorsey and offensive line coach Andy Dickerson, league sources told ESPN.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
Isn’t that Johnny’s mommy’s nickname for him?
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
Gauff, Fritz lead U.S. charge to United Cup title
Coco Gauff and Taylor Fritz led the U.S. to the title at the United Cup mixed team tournament.
Gauff earlier stepped up preparations for the Australian Open, the year's first major which begins next Sunday, with a second consecutive victory over world No. 2 Swiatek in a blockbuster showdown that gave fans at the Ken Rosewall Arena their money's worth.
Gauff, the world No. 3 who beat Swiatek en route to the WTA Finals title last season, squandered a 2-0 lead in the first set but battled back to gain the upper hand in the match as her opponent committed 19 unforced errors.
In another high-octane set that followed, Gauff recovered a break to level at 4-4 and went on to secure the win that ensured she ended her singles campaign at the tournament unbeaten.
"I have the belief that I'm one of the best players in the world. When I play good tennis, I'm hard to beat," said Gauff, who also beat Leylah Fernandez, Donna Vekic, Zhang Shuai and Karolina Muchova in the event. "Today I think I played some great tennis. I'm glad I was able to get a point for Team USA. It was tough today, I'm not going to lie."
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
the bar was nice enough to set up a corner here with no adjacent seats. Time to watch football uninterrupted boys
FOOTBALL
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,412
- 18,018
How cute of you to take a photo of someone else’s beer and try to pass it off as your own.the bar was nice enough to set up a corner here with no adjacent seats. Time to watch football uninterrupted boys
View attachment 956648
FOOTBALL
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 387,800
- 31,671
