I Am The Iguana That Interrupted The Miami Open In 2017 And This Is What Really Happened That Day

Me, on my favorite rock. Photo: Michael Bernander

¡Hola humans!

This is Jorge. Some of you may know me as the iguana who ran across the tennis court during the Haas vs Vesely match at the Miami Open in 2017.

I’ve been laying low since the incident, which admittedly isn’t that physically hard for an iguana, but I need to set the record straight about what really happened on that balmy March day.

What everyone got wrong about my ascent of the scoreboard and subsequent mad dash across the court was either that I wanted to watch the match or that I was lost and petrified. First of all, very cute, but I’m not a tennis fan. Second, I was far from lost and petrified. I knew the cameras would be there. I knew people would be watching around the world. I was there to streak my cold, scaly, naked body across the court in front of thousands of people.

To understand why I did this, we need to go back to early 2017. At that time, I was 16 (which is getting up there for an iguana) and I had just been fired from my job at Bank of America. Although, to be honest, I’m not sure if they ever noticed that I had been employed there at all, despite my showing up on the ground floor windowsill every weekday for two years to listen to my colleagues complain about our boss in exchange for lunch scraps (mostly salad and on lucky days, eggs). But sometime in January, they put up this wire mesh thing around the window that prevented me from climbing up to my workspace. To make matters worse, the day before, I’d been rebuffed by Marisol, the one iguana I could ever see myself settling down with, even though I knew I only had a few years left in me. I was an aging reptile, out of work, and my three-chambered heart was breaking.

In the weeks that followed, I sank into a deep melancholy. I slinked around, finding food and hot rocks wherever I could. Staying stock-still for hours on end, thinking.

Then, on that fateful March day, I decided to start afresh. To do something outrageous. Rebellious. Even sexy. I’d seen the newspapers, so I knew the Miami Open was on. Perfect: I made a plan to scuttle down to Crandon Park Tennis Center and reveal myself to the world. The new me.

Those few short minutes on the court were the greatest thrill of my life. I was exposed and daring. A new lust for life tore through my veins. But best of all, Marisol saw it all live on TV. She fell in love with me right then, she tells me. Not just for my boldness but for my bendy green body, which she had previously only seen narrow glimpses of when I had worn my short-sleeved white shirts and navy pants at the bank.

So now you know that, far from being an adorable spectacle or perilous misstep, this story is one of triumph over darkness. Of courage, exhilaration, and of course, love. Me and Marisol may not be long for this world but we sure are happy together. Also, Marisol is über rich so she says I don’t need to work anymore, so that’s pretty good.

With love,

Jorge

Writer, musician, sayer of sooth and silly. Völlig losgelöst von der Erde. www.clarewieck.com