Do you have the slightest idea who you're f*cking with, Greta Thunberg?
By Roger Federer
So there I am, preparing to win my seventh Australian Open title (yes, seventh, meaning I've won six already), and one of my servants tells me some 17-year-old girl from Sweden called me out, asking if I 'support' Credit Suisse after her babysitter showed her some tree-huggers protesting about fossil fuels.
The simple answer is this: no, I don't support Credit Suisse. They support me, you silly little girl. You have no idea how many millions they've made me over the last 20 years. That's right, millions. Millions on top of the millions I've made from Nike, who built their empire on sweatshops, or Mercedes-Benz, who worked for the Nazis and were happy for Hitler and the rest of the Third Reich to drive around in a 770 Grosser Offener, or my latest sponsor Uniqlo, who pay me $30million a year to wear their cheap, nasty school uniforms and don't even pay the people that make them.
Of course I f*cking support them, because they pay me money. And as for fossil fuels, how the f*ck do you expect me to fly my private jet from Switzerland to Australia? Australia to Miami? Miami to Indian Wells? All so I can play the tournaments millions tune in to watch me win, week in, week out, while you're sat there tweeting sh*t about climate change from your iPhone that was made by a Taiwanese boy making $1.75 an hour.
I read an article about you taking a yacht to your summit in New York for 'environmental reasons'. How was that? F*cking inconvenient, I bet. Do you expect me to travel to every tournament I have to play on a f*cking yacht? How do you propose I train? Just throw a f*cking tennis court up on a yacht and hope it stays steady? Grow up, kid.
But let's get down to the real issue here: do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Do you have any f*cking idea who I am? I'm Roger f*cking Federer. Winner of 20 slams. The greatest Wimbledon champion there's ever been. Adored by billions around your entire precious globe. Ask Novak Djokovic what it's like to play me in front of a crowd. They f*cking despise him, call him names, spit at him. Not because he's done anything wrong, just because he's playing me, the Almighty, the Omega, the motherf*cking Maestro.
I've dominated tennis for nearly two decades and now you come along, not even finished school and coming to me with your half-baked views on climate change, trying to tell me off because I make some money from a company that's paid me millions for years just for doing their silly commercials? How dare you? How DARE you?
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