Faster
Hall of Fame
Sounds like they aren't that found of Vika's boyfriend, making so much fun of him 
As befits a two-time champion, Azarenka arrived with her entourage, one led by her boyfriend RedFoo. He, as befits a dance music star, brought with him a wee entourage of his own. They were smaller, skinnier and younger than the original Foo but other than that, they were dead ringers for Vika’s fella. A pair of Foo-lets. Or Footles.
...
Anyway, from starting the match as a cheery troop of lads, they went awfully quiet as Radwanska ran away with the first set.
...
After five games of this punishment, Azarenka was ready to explode. Screaming something pithy and pertinent in her native tongue, something along the lines of “oh botheration”, she drew a chorus of ‘oohs’ from the crowd. That did little to help her mood.
...
up in the posh seats, RedFoo was looking a little pale, more PeakyFoo than usual (although that does sound like something you play with three-year-olds. Then again, Azarenka would probably have lost a game of that, too, so error-strewn was her play in that opening set).
...
Sitting in between his Footles, PhewFoo was looking happier.
...
The usual two-tone wail that accompanies every Azarenka stroke was soon replaced by shrieks and yelps and half chances were missed or put-aways went astray. She was taking a pasting and she had no idea how to stop it.
...
Azarenka could do nothing to stop it while RedFoo, now reduced to little more than Fffff, was checking his phone intently. No doubt he was looking for the Qantas departure times from Tullamarine.
As befits a two-time champion, Azarenka arrived with her entourage, one led by her boyfriend RedFoo. He, as befits a dance music star, brought with him a wee entourage of his own. They were smaller, skinnier and younger than the original Foo but other than that, they were dead ringers for Vika’s fella. A pair of Foo-lets. Or Footles.
...
Anyway, from starting the match as a cheery troop of lads, they went awfully quiet as Radwanska ran away with the first set.
...
After five games of this punishment, Azarenka was ready to explode. Screaming something pithy and pertinent in her native tongue, something along the lines of “oh botheration”, she drew a chorus of ‘oohs’ from the crowd. That did little to help her mood.
...
up in the posh seats, RedFoo was looking a little pale, more PeakyFoo than usual (although that does sound like something you play with three-year-olds. Then again, Azarenka would probably have lost a game of that, too, so error-strewn was her play in that opening set).
...
Sitting in between his Footles, PhewFoo was looking happier.
...
The usual two-tone wail that accompanies every Azarenka stroke was soon replaced by shrieks and yelps and half chances were missed or put-aways went astray. She was taking a pasting and she had no idea how to stop it.
...
Azarenka could do nothing to stop it while RedFoo, now reduced to little more than Fffff, was checking his phone intently. No doubt he was looking for the Qantas departure times from Tullamarine.
