IHigh school students know something about it: there is nothing worse than the Roland-Garros tennis tournament to upset a revision schedule, or even nip in the bud the will to get started. In a post on France Inter, columnist Redwane Telha underlined the dangers of the French Open: “I completely abandoned my math revisions in favor of a Nadal-Soderling final. Result: 9 in the bac for me and 6-4/6-2/6-4 for Nadal. »
What is true for the bachelor is just as true for the employee. Generally appearing on screens at the end of May, at the same time as the sunny days, the clay-court tournament, in its televised version, can quickly turn into a pre-summer vortex. Until 2020, watching Roland-Garros while working was nevertheless a form of acrobatic clandestinity. The smartphone consulted in the toilet or the streaming window gently opened on the computer desk made it possible to follow, sometimes slowing down the servers of your box, a fifth set super hung between a Frenchman coming out of the qualifications and a Serbian with a mental d steel (the eternal remake of David against Goliath, except that, here, in general, it is Goliath who wins). From now on, it is between two visios that we scrutinize the hopes of the tricolor.
If theitem L3121.1 of the labor code specifies that “the effective working time is the time during which the employee is at the disposal of the employer and complies with his instructions without being able to freely go about personal business”, in fact, since the Covid-19 epidemic and the massification of telework, it has never been so simple – and tempting – to surrender to ocher hypnosis. It must be said that the Porte d’Auteuil tournament works a bit like a rock of crack. A simple catch of a few games, for example during a meal break, is enough to make you dive for the whole afternoon.
The proof: I’m here, at home, with my minishorts à la Andre Agassi, taking on the road the match of Benoît Paire against Cameron Norrie. We are on 4e set, the Englishman leads 5-1 (2 sets to 1 for Benoît Paire). While his balls seem to be magnetized by the band of the net, the French tennis player goes crazy: “His mother’s whore!” » Don’t be fooled by appearances, Benoît Paire is doing better. Before the meeting, through the networks, he had made an appointment with his public to ” to like “. With a well-rehearsed argument, the terrible child of French tennis also spread in the press, repeating that he had bought himself a pipe. “I stopped going out, partying and drinking alcohol”he said in West France.
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