Gin-e-pri! Gin-e-pri! Gin-e-pri!

Oh my! It appears as if the last American male in the French Open draw is Robby "Under Armour" Ginepri. FYI, our boy has a website, and it's not half bad. Honestly, I never thought of him as a clay-court guy--more of a slow hard-court dude, really--but hey, HE'S ALL WE GOT NOW!

He next faces Frenchman Florent "Dead God, I Have A Beautiful Name" Serra. This doesn't bode well, as zee French, zay are on zee good run at Roland Garros this year, despite having lost Gasquet and Tsonga before the tourney began.

Wayne Odesnik, whom I blogged about yesterday, also went down, predictably, to the Jokerman. The commentariat was uniform in their praise of his skills on clay. He certainly brought a better 'tude to the surface than, say, James Blake, who was the very picture of petulance in his loss yesterday to an unheralded, go-for-broke Lithuanian named Ernests "Don't Call Me Natalie" Gulbis. I've written several stories about Blake and have found him to be a wonderful person who seems at times beset by frustration when he can't rise to his own lofty standards. In his loss to Gulbis, however, I thought he let it slip into sullen-ness at the end of the match.

More about why the Americans in Paris, um, are the suck, a bit later. Preview: They are discouraged from youth to think about dealing with slow Euro clay as an intellectual as well as physical challenge.