论文部分内容阅读
大约是八九年前的事了,有的事情太过挂牵反而呈现出一片模糊状。那是一个炎热的夏日午后,蝉的呻吟已近嘶哑,太阳却仍能隔着厚重的窗幔挤渗进来,在客厅的地板上形成一个个小小的光斑,移动着晃入人眼。百无聊赖中扭开电视开关,出现了一个奇异的画面——桑普拉斯眼神的特写镜头——沉静的,淡定的,有一股岩石般冰冷的坚毅(那时可不知道“酷”,更不了解“cool”)。于是身上的燥热也奇异地褪去了,被一种沁入心脾的妥贴凉意鼓舞着,不自觉地锁定了那个频道,也就开启了多年以后回想起来似乎如此的网球启蒙之课。与桑对决的是当时我惟一知道的亚裔美籍选手张德培(了
It was about eight or nine years ago, and some things were too draconian to show a fuzzy shape. It was a hot summer afternoon, cicadas moaning hoarse, the sun can still squeeze through the heavy window curtains in the living room to form a small spot on the floor, moving into the human eye. Boring in the bored TV switch, there was a strange picture - a close-up of Sampras eyes - quiet, calm, there is a rock-like cold perseverance (then do not know the “cool”, but do not understand “Cool”). So the heat of the body also faded strangely, by a kind of Qinxin well cool and encouraging, unconsciously locked that channel, also opened many years later in retrospect of tennis enlightenment class seems so. And Sang confrontation was the only American Asian player I know at the time Zhang Depei (up