If you're going to wipe out, do it during the NBA Finals, the NFL Draft, the Super Bowl, whatever. Don't do it on a Sunday morning when there's nothing else to write about. Somebody didn't teach that to this ball boy and subsequently he ate it during the only time of the week when we'd bother to post on it.
We'd like to tell you Sharapova got out of her chair, helped him up, brushed him off, and realized even though he's just a lowly ball boy (and she a multi-millionaire) that the two of them realized they had a lot in common and fell deeply in love.
But nah, this isn't a Judd Apatow movie.
Instead she just sat there, and he grabbed an umbrella to keep her in the shade between sets. Because clearly they couldn't just set up a pole to do that.
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