Newly crowned Wimbledon champ Rafael Nadal has a girlfriend that he does his best to hide from the media because he favors "privacy," as if that ever did anyone any good.  Well, it turns out her name is Francesca "Xisca" Perello.  Why Xisca?  Because it's sexier, obvs.  Details:

In a story full of butterflies and ponies farting rainbows, Nadal and “Xisca,” a 20-year-old college student, met through his sister, Isabel. Xisca is quite close to the entire Nadal family – particularly with Rafael’s grandmother… Apparently, being Rafael’s “secret girlfriend” is not a problem for Xisca, who prefers to remain out of the limelight.

Ugh.  It disgusts me the way they shun the spotlight and only seem interested in cultivating a healthy relationship.  What about MY needs?  I have a right to know everything about your relationship!  How am I supposed to speculate wildly about your private life if you keep it so… private?  I'm telling you, athletes are such selfish jerks.  Only care about themselves.

[Machochip] 

Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal are the only two male tennis players on Earth that are worth watching, and yesterday they met in the Wimbledon final for the third consecutive year, with Nadal upsetting Federer's quest to be the first man to win six straight championships there.  It was an epic five-set match that lasted nearly five hours of playing time (seven hours with the two rain delays), the longest and probably best Wimbledon final ever played.

A quick timeline of how it went down on the West Coast:

9:20 a.m. — Me, recently awake: "Oh, the Wimbledon final started at 6:00!  Maybe I can catch the end! (turns on TV, rain delay, shocked to see Nadal won the first two sets.
10:00 – 1:00 — Grocery shopping, leisurely breakfast, trip to the book store, trip to the record store.
1:18 p.m. — Return home.  No chance Wimbledon is STILL on.  Turn on TV.  Nadal is sopping wet and climbing through the crowd in celebration.  The announcers agree that it's the greatest Wimbledon final ever. 

Some people saw the greatest tennis match in decades.  I had a tasty brunch and bought a Tom Robbins book.  In your face, sports fans.

Fellow Spaniards Pau Gasol and Rafael Nadal star in this watch ad where they fling balls at each other's faces, presumably to win the affections of a hot lady with a cool box. Interesting stratagem. This commercial is apparently from a while ago, but it's new to the English-speaking world and, hey, Nadal just won the French Open and Gasol is playing shitty in the NBA Finals, so it's just relevant enough to work. And their last names rhyme. People love things that rhyme, like cock and Alfred Prufrock.

Since I don't speak Spanish, I'm assuming the hot chick says "Guys getting balls to the face makes me hot. If you do that, you can touch my box. It has expensive watches in it." They do so, whereupon they retire to the sexing boat, where the woman beds Gasol, but rejects Nadal for wearing that fruity sleeveless shirt. 

The Sony Ericsson Open began this week in Miami, and an elaborate PR stunt pitted Rafael Nadal against Serena Williams on top of the newly opened Gansevoort Hotel in Miami in a match played… ON WATER!  See how that works?  Sony Ericsson Open begins + Gansevoort Hotel opens + cool images = cross-marketing synergy.  Somewhere a publicist just got a bonus.

There's a Gansevoort Hotel in New York, too — it's located near all the snooty clubs in the Meatpacking District.  I went there once.  There was a line and a doorman and a rooftop pool, and everyone I met there worked in finance.  None of those finance people could explain why a Jack and Coke cost me $15, though.

You're not going to believe this, but I think I was the only blogger there. 

Rafael Nadal defeated Roger Federer in four sets for his third consecutive French Open title yesterday, making him the first player since Bjorn Borg to win three straight titles Roland Garros.  In fact, he's never lost there, going 21-0 since he first rose to greatness three years ago.

This just further cements the only story in men's tennis over the last three years: Federer is by far and away the best player in the world, but Nadal can beat him on clay.  Nadal can beat pretty much anything on clay.  Tigers.  Sharks.  Tiger sharks.  Robot armies with tennis ball cannons.  Cancer.  If they could fit Darfur onto the court when he played, he could end the suffering there.

And all while wearing a sleeveless shirt, bandana, and capri pants.  He's like an angelic gay pirate sent from Spain to protect us from Roger Federer's plans of world tennis domination.  *Swoon*

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