You’re wrong about your mom, you know. You think she’s thinking about you right now. You think she’s staring out the back window at your old tire swing, remembering times gone by. You think she’s sighing plaintively while smoothing the cornmeal off her Caroline Ingalls apron and whispering, “My lands, I wish Belinda would call home more often” (assuming your name is Belinda).
Not true. Moms are people just like anyone else. It’s a big world, Belinda. A mom needs hobbies. At this moment, your mom could be planing a bookcase. She could be kicking a hot yoga class in the teeth. Or, if she’s anything like Scottish tennis star Andy Murray’s mom, she could be ruthlessly destroying Yoko Ono on Twitter.
Judy Murray has personally owned the “destroying Yoko Ono on Twitter” space since at least last October, which is the point where my browser crashed as I conducted this exclusive Grantland investigation (i.e., scrolled down through Murray’s timeline while trying to decide whether I wanted an orange). Yoko Ono’s Twitter presence, in case you don’t follow her, goes in pretty hard for the daydream-squiggly-peace component of late Beatlemania; maybe the easiest way to imagine this is to think about how annoying John Lennon would be if he were on Twitter. You get a lot of:
And a fair amount of:
And a not inconsiderable helping of:
And also the occasional #PUSSYRIOT update, which, OK, cool.
Anyway, at some point Judy Murray discovered @yokoono, and after a hard Scottish stare and what I imagine was a cackle you could light dry leaves with, she decided she was not. Having. One. Bit. Of. It.
Shots fired. After that initial shock, @judmoo’s early trolling was carried out in a tone that was bantering, even playful:
But a basic respect for pragmatism soon led to a certain impatience:
And eventually, exasperation:
(I really get this one. I mean, what is wrong with you, Yoko Ono? I bet Linda McCartney could identify the components of a chair.)
The replies got more sarcastic:
Before long, Judy Murray was calling Yoko out through the medium of photography:
And openly mocking her advice about using cards with “SPACE TRANSFORMER” written on them to transform objects you want to change:
She even used Yoko-taunting as a springboard from which to discuss her own true passions:
After months of defeating Yoko Ono on every rhetorical battlefield in their war, however, @judmoo mostly just wanted her adversary to shut up:
But, as in all great rivalries — Beatles/Stones, Murray/Djokovic, cake/SPACE TRANSFORMER — the fight never ends:
(This is a fascinating debate, though, right? I mean, on the one hand, yes, if you clean up the water inside your body, you will be an oasis for the whole world, even if the world does not acknowledge your efforts. On the other hand, facepalm. I really see both sides here.)
Yoko has yet to respond to Murray’s provocations, unless you count “continuing to be Yoko Ono 24 hours a day” as a response. So really, our end is our beginning is our ending. Judy Murray remains the baddest mom in tennis. Yoko Ono is not the baddest mom in tennis, but then, none of her kids are tennis players. In socialist omniconscious heaven, John is definitely on Yoko’s side, but I bet a couple of Judy’s wisecracks have put the old Liverpool glimmer back in his eye. Turn left at Greenland!