Andy Roddick has taken some time out from being America’s death rattle of men’s tennis success to openly voice his opinion on some matters that are near and dear to his heart. For starters, when you’re a guy who isn’t as good as people once expected you to be, you’re going to often be aggravated and wish to vent your frustration how you see fit. Roddick’s solution is that he thinks that tennis players should be allowed to behave like professional wrestlers and just break anything they want. In theory, he’s right. A throwback to John McEnroe would be great.

But there’s a better solution out there – it’s called not sucking. But look at me being all critical. That’s another thing that Roddick hates. In an interview with ESPN’s Chris Fowler, Roddick talked about his future as an analyst.

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Iconic sports photographer Walter Iooss, Jr. recently teamed up with the New York Times and Saturday Night Live’s Andy Samberg to re-capture some of tennis’ greatest legends and their even greater rivalries. If anything, it was an opportunity for Samberg to wear vintage clothes and make funny faces, or as he usually calls it – Tuesday. Look, it’s a slow sports news day and I think the photos are pretty fun, even though our evil cousin Cajun Boy already beat us to them.

Samberg and Iooss, Jr. re-created the 1980 Wimbledon Finals matchup between John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg, and since most of us weren’t alive then to know what any of that means (I may have been, but my records won’t be released until 2162), it was basically like Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, except they weren’t friends. At all. And despite what they may say now, they pretty much hated each other. Samberg also takes on some other old dudes, but he sadly chose not to dress up as Arthur Ashe or Michael Chang. Now that would have made this a good news day.

(Unless you guys want to talk more about Dwyane Wade saying that he thinks people are going to like the Miami Heat next season now that we got all the hate out of us. But quite frankly I’d rather eat a bowl of human hair than talk about the NBA right now.)

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The rivalry between Sweden’s Björn Borg and New Yorker byway of West Germany John McEnroe is so storied it has its own Wikipedia Page. The page chronicles their matches in detail, expounds upon their “Fire and Ice” nickname and breaks down everything from who won the most on hard courts (McEnroe) and who won most on carpet (Borg). Nowhere does it say why they got old and started making out with each other to sell boxer briefs.

But here we are in 2011, living through the “Björn <3 John" line and a declaration of their love for in front of the world's press at the boating lake in Wimbledon Park. The report from Telegraph Online’s fashion section (ugh) starts off telling you what you need to know, then descends into a horrible E! Network bumper about portmanteaus and “coy smiles”.

Borg, who has built up a nice little sideline in men’s underwear over the past 14 years, has teamed up with McEnroe to push a limited-edition range of jersey boxer briefs, with some of the proceeds from sales going to the John and Patty McEnroe Foundation.

In keeping with the air of bromance, there were four buff male models draped across deckchairs on a jetty over the lake, wearing nothing but pants and coy smiles and looking for wall the world like they were auditioning for a Christopher Isherwood biopic. McEnroe was dressed a bit more modestly in Ralph Lauren jeans and a crisp white shirt under a very snappy plaid Tom Ford jacket with wide lapels.

The combination of this news and the image of Borg and McEnroe in 1978 makes me think way too much of that scene in The Royal Tenenbaums where Richie shaves off all his hair and tries to kill himself.

What’s next, Magic and Bird teaming up to sell skinny jeans?

Here’s the telecast of Novak Djokovic after his quarterfinal win in the US Open doing an impression of John McEnroe, whose book is absolutely terrible. Don’t ever read it, even if you’re stuck in a Mexican hospital and it’s the only English-language book in front of you. They love McEnroe in Mexico. But anyway, Mad Mac himself comes down from the broadcast booth to hit around with Djokovic for a bit, and I’d love to see this happen in any other sport. How awesome would it be to see Terry Bradshaw tossing on the field with Hines Ward, only to get crushed in the ribs as Kyle Vanden Bosch buries him into the turf. Somebody needs to make this happen. I’m looking at you, FOX Sports.

Here’s a recent outburst from John McEnroe during a recent World Team Tennis event. It’s such casual and conversational way of getting into someone’s face that it leaves me in stunned amusement. Chuck Adams, the dude in the blue, got suspended for crossing the net to engage in the argument.

During the men’s doubles match, a shot by Washington’s Leander Paes hit New York’s Robert Kendrick, prompting Adams and McEnroe to yell at Paes, the WTT said. The Sportimes were issued a code violation for unsportsmanlike conduct by the chair umpire because Adams and McEnroe entered the opponent’s side of the court.

Four points later, Kendrick swatted a serve that hit Paes. via.

This is the closest thing tennis has to a bench-clearing brawl, so maybe we should be grateful for Adams’ suspension. McEnroe probably got a bonus for doing the exact same thing. Still doesn’t make me want to watch team tennis, though. Team freeze tag? Hey, where do I sign?

Rafael Nadal won the Rome Masters today becoming the first man to win three consecutive titles there.  He also ran his clay court winning-streak to 77 matches, and now each victory will establish a new record for consecutive same surface triumphs.  John McEnroe, who previously held the record with 75 wins in a row on indoor carpet, is a little perturbed:

I'm running out of records," said McEnroe, who watched courtside when the Spaniard tied his mark on Friday.  "The guy seems like he's unbeatable right now. Doesn't he ever have a bad day or a headache once in a while or something?," he asked reporters.

I know what you mean Mac.  I set a record of sorts with Katy on indoor carpet when she used to baby-sit for the O'Malleys.  I'd wait naked for her on the beige shag in the den while she put the eight kids to bed, and then I'd ace her deuce (if you know what I mean) if I didn't double-fault.  Don't worry ladies, I don't double-fault anymore . . . much.  Anyway, I had strung eighteen Saturdays in a row on the same surface, until that damn foreign exchange student from Spain appeared.  She even had the nerve to tell me that he surpassed my record in three nights, that he never made an unforced error, and their baseline volleys lasted for minutes instead of seconds.  Slut.  Why did we ever end the Spanish-American War anyway?  Remember the Maine people, REMEMBER THE MAINE! -KD