Anna Kournikova is running a promotion on her official Web site, and the grand prize is a 15-minute phone call with the former tennis star.
As any fine upstanding American lad should do, I already have entered the contest more than 100 times. And I have a pretty good feeling I am going to win.
Here's how I imagine my 15 minutes with Ms. Kournikova would go:
DJ Gallo: Uh, hello?
Anna Kournikova: Yes.
DJG: Hello?
AK: I said "yes."
DJG: Is this Anna Kournikova?
AK: Yes. Yes. It's me. Of course it's me. Let's go. I want to get this over with.
DJG: OK. No problem. This is so cool to be talking with you. When do the 15 minutes start?
AK: You are already on the clock.
DJG: All right. So I have 14-some minutes left. Great.
AK: No, you have barely 10.
DJG: But we just started?
AK: My publicist started the clock when the phone first started ringing.
DJG: But I wasn't home. I just walked in the door. My 15 minutes could have been used up without me getting to say one thing to you.
AK: Exactly. That was the point. I was hoping you wouldn't be home.
DJG: Well, that's OK. I'll definitely take 10 minutes with you any day. Let me just say, you sound very, very pretty on the phone. Very pretty.
AK: Look, weirdo. Please just try not to be too creepy, OK? I was hoping that maybe, like, a 13-year-old girl would win this call and she would ask me about tennis and fashion and shopping. The last thing I wanted was some creep in his 20s or 30s or however old you are to be on the other end of the line being all awkward and gross. If I hear anything else on this call other than your voice -- heavy breathing, rustling of clothes, the sound of a zipper -- I'm hanging up immediately. I mean it. You got that, pervert?
DJG: Yes, m'am. Understood. But let me just say, you sound even prettier when you are upset. I think I love you and want to marry you. And you'll be happy to know my pants are button fly. So no zipper concerns from me.
AK: That's strike two.
DJG: OK. I'm sorry. I apologize. I won't do it again. I've just always thought you are unbelievably hot … at tennis. You are hot at tennis. Yeah. That's it. Hot at tennis.
AK: Thank you, I guess.
DJG: So do you play much anymore? Do you think you'll ever make a comeback?
AK: [Sounds of struggle, then singing into the phone.] Bai-la-mooooooooos! Let the rhythm take you over. Bai-la-mos. Te quiero amor mio … Bailamos!
DJG: Um, hello?
AK: [More singing.] I can be your hero, bay-buh! I can kiss away the pain! Whoa, no! I will stand by you for-ev-uh! You can take … my breath a-way.
DJG: Oh, come on. I don't want to talk to Enrique Iglesias. Put Anna back on the phone.
AK: [Sound of another struggle, then what sounds like a tennis racket striking a human head, followed by a yelp.] Sorry. I am really sorry. Enrique came in and took the phone. He thinks that if he can win over one person at a time, maybe they'll go out and buy his latest album and he'll become a big star again.
DJG: I see. Well, tell him I appreciated the brief musical interlude.
AK: I will. As soon as he stops weeping and slowly bailamos-ing with himself in the mirror. [Aside] Enrique! Stop crying, you wuss. And stop asking me to marry you! It's pathetic.
OK, I'm back.
DJG: You know, this isn't the first time we have spoken.
AK: Is that right?
DJG: Yeah. A few years ago when I was in college, I interviewed you face to face for my college newspaper when you came to town for a charity tennis event.
AK: Oh.
DJG: I was pretty sure you would remember me.
AK: Um, that's a big no.
DJG: Really? I kind of felt like we had bonded. On a carnal level, even. I felt like there was mutual yearning there. No? That you avoided eye contact and gave short, disinterested answers to my questions because, for the first time in your life, true love had taken hold of your heart and you didn't know how to react. And that maybe you have turned down all of Enrique's marriage proposals in the years since because you knew that somewhere out there, that nervous, sweaty, stammering yet somehow wildly attractive college newspaper reporter who interviewed you for two minutes in Baltimore was out there in this big world of ours, and that he one day could be yours.
AK: No. And that's strike three, perv. Two more, and you're out.
DJG: I appreciate that you are from Russia and don't understand the rules of baseball.
AK: Strike four!
DJG: Let me just say that a couple of years after my interview with you, I interviewed Maria Sharapova at the same charity event and … well, you are much prettier than Maria Sharapova.
AK: Really? You mean that? You really think I am prettier than Maria Sharapova?
DJG: Yes. I do. She is not even in your league.
AK: Wow. Thank you. That's really sweet of you, DJ. That means a whole lot. You know, maybe I do remember you from that charity event. Were you the guy wearing sweatpants and no underwear?
DJG: No. That was one of the local TV anchors.
AK: Were you the guy who started his interview by giving me a dozen roses and reciting poetry?
DJG: No. That was the newspaper's tennis beat reporter.
AK: Were you the guy who pushed his microphone against my lips and then made out with his microphone for the rest of the interview?
DJG: No. I don't know who that was. But I remember thinking it was a good idea.
AK: Were you the guy who just sort of creepily stared at me the entire night?
DJG: Um, maybe. But I think that was every guy there.
AK: I thought I remembered you.
DJG: I'll take it.
AK: Well, hey, you know … you seem like a nice enough guy. If you are ever in Miami, you should look me up. This is my publicist's line -- actually, my publicist's intern's line. Let me give you my personal cell phone number.
DJG: Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!
AK: Do you have a pen?
DJG: Yes. And it's red, to symbolize our love.
AK: Perfect. OK, it's area code 305 …
DJG: Got it.
AK: 542 …
DJG: Yes.
AK: 27 … oh, the 15 minutes are up. Nice talking to you, DJ. Bye.
DJG: Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!
DJ Gallo is the founder and sole writer of the sports satire site SportsPickle.com. He also is a regular contributor to ESPN The Magazine and has written for The Onion and Cracked. His first book, "SportsPickle Presents: The View from the Upper Deck," is on sale now.
By DJ Gallo
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/st ... llo/080519
