A Farewell to a Man Who Came to Play
Armenia Diaspora
September 04, /usopen.org/ - by Neil Schlecht. In 21 years, Andre Agassi had never missed a late-summer visit to Flushing Meadows. When he announced that the 2006 US Open would be the end of the road, Agassi surely knew that all he had to do was show up and he'd receive a glowing tribute and a hero's sendoff.
After all the vicissitudes and travails of a career with more story arcs than a season of "As the World Turns," Agassi ultimately took the greatest pride, not in the titles or accolades or spoils, but in his enduring commitment to playing the game that had brought him those things.
Twice crowned the champion here and with countless highlight-reel matches under his belt, Agassi came to Flushing Meadows one last time with a final goal -- to play as well as his body would allow him. A year after his appearance here as the oldest finalist in US Open history, he wanted to give himself and his fans one final memory—one worthy of all he had put into, and all he had done during a remarkable career.
The farewell tour leading up to the Open pretty much didn't happen. Andre's ailing, 36-year-old back precluded him from entering tournaments and preparing the way that Agassi prepares. Would he even be able to play?
Play? How about add a couple of classic encounters to the memory reel?
Twenty-one years after his brash debut here, a sobbing Andre Agassi said goodbye to his adoring throngs and to the US Open on Sunday, but only after putting in three performances that, considering his health, have to be considered super-human. As he promised, Andre left the only way he knew how: by leaving everything he had on the court he had made his home.
His first-round match against the veteran Andrei Pavel turned out to be a gritty, dramatic four-set affair. Twelve hours after advancing to play the 8th seed, Marcos Baghdatis, Agassi required yet another 20-minute cortisone injection from a 7-inch needle. Propped up by heavy meds, Agassi somehow found a way to outlast an opponent with game that mirrored his own but legs that were 15 years younger. The match was an edge-of-the-seat thriller, instantly catapulting to the top of the Agassi pantheon.
Two stunning matches in, we all began to believe. Why not a miracle run? After a third-round victory against a qualifier with an eerily familiar name, who could forgive us for already relishing a Labor Day dream match-up against Andy Roddick?
Back in the mid-'90s, when it looked like Agassi's career would flame out long before those of contemporaries Sampras and Courier, it might not have been so unexpected that his final match would be against a B. Becker. Back then, nothing in either Agassi's character or his approach to tennis would have predicted a career of such longevity.
This week especially, we can't escape the old photos documenting Agassi's evolution. And though they're so familiar, those pictures of the wild hair and garish getups seem so ancient, like trawling through a ninth grade yearbook and discovering our own painfully awkward phase.
To listen to Agassi's considered answers today, to watch him plainly adore his family, and to witness his philanthropic dedication to at-risk youths is to be confronted with as dramatic a transformation as ever seen in sport. The one-time punk is a pillar of wisdom and sobriety.
As a tennis player, Agassi's maturation was both early and late, book-ending a fallow middle period. He won his first pro tournament at 17 but four of his eight majors past the advanced age of 29. His disciplined devotion to tennis late in his career was almost monastic.
One more time, he had come to New York determined to play. "I didn't come here to quit," said Agassi.
Agassi was famous for hugging the baseline, his racoon eyes open wide, ready to unleash his mesmerizing hand-eye coordination and return the most wicked serves the game has ever seen.
On match point on Sunday, the last point Andre Agassi would ever play, he again clung to the baseline. His face dissolved into tears, and the game's greatest returner awaited one final serve. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but still, he was there, ready to play.
Note: Above are excerpts from the article. The full article appears here. Clarifications and comments by me are contained in {}. Deletions are marked by [...]. The bold emphasis is mine.
September 04, /usopen.org/ - by Neil Schlecht. In 21 years, Andre Agassi had never missed a late-summer visit to Flushing Meadows. When he announced that the 2006 US Open would be the end of the road, Agassi surely knew that all he had to do was show up and he'd receive a glowing tribute and a hero's sendoff.
After all the vicissitudes and travails of a career with more story arcs than a season of "As the World Turns," Agassi ultimately took the greatest pride, not in the titles or accolades or spoils, but in his enduring commitment to playing the game that had brought him those things.
Twice crowned the champion here and with countless highlight-reel matches under his belt, Agassi came to Flushing Meadows one last time with a final goal -- to play as well as his body would allow him. A year after his appearance here as the oldest finalist in US Open history, he wanted to give himself and his fans one final memory—one worthy of all he had put into, and all he had done during a remarkable career.
The farewell tour leading up to the Open pretty much didn't happen. Andre's ailing, 36-year-old back precluded him from entering tournaments and preparing the way that Agassi prepares. Would he even be able to play?
Play? How about add a couple of classic encounters to the memory reel?
Twenty-one years after his brash debut here, a sobbing Andre Agassi said goodbye to his adoring throngs and to the US Open on Sunday, but only after putting in three performances that, considering his health, have to be considered super-human. As he promised, Andre left the only way he knew how: by leaving everything he had on the court he had made his home.
His first-round match against the veteran Andrei Pavel turned out to be a gritty, dramatic four-set affair. Twelve hours after advancing to play the 8th seed, Marcos Baghdatis, Agassi required yet another 20-minute cortisone injection from a 7-inch needle. Propped up by heavy meds, Agassi somehow found a way to outlast an opponent with game that mirrored his own but legs that were 15 years younger. The match was an edge-of-the-seat thriller, instantly catapulting to the top of the Agassi pantheon.
Two stunning matches in, we all began to believe. Why not a miracle run? After a third-round victory against a qualifier with an eerily familiar name, who could forgive us for already relishing a Labor Day dream match-up against Andy Roddick?
Back in the mid-'90s, when it looked like Agassi's career would flame out long before those of contemporaries Sampras and Courier, it might not have been so unexpected that his final match would be against a B. Becker. Back then, nothing in either Agassi's character or his approach to tennis would have predicted a career of such longevity.
This week especially, we can't escape the old photos documenting Agassi's evolution. And though they're so familiar, those pictures of the wild hair and garish getups seem so ancient, like trawling through a ninth grade yearbook and discovering our own painfully awkward phase.
To listen to Agassi's considered answers today, to watch him plainly adore his family, and to witness his philanthropic dedication to at-risk youths is to be confronted with as dramatic a transformation as ever seen in sport. The one-time punk is a pillar of wisdom and sobriety.
As a tennis player, Agassi's maturation was both early and late, book-ending a fallow middle period. He won his first pro tournament at 17 but four of his eight majors past the advanced age of 29. His disciplined devotion to tennis late in his career was almost monastic.
One more time, he had come to New York determined to play. "I didn't come here to quit," said Agassi.
Agassi was famous for hugging the baseline, his racoon eyes open wide, ready to unleash his mesmerizing hand-eye coordination and return the most wicked serves the game has ever seen.
On match point on Sunday, the last point Andre Agassi would ever play, he again clung to the baseline. His face dissolved into tears, and the game's greatest returner awaited one final serve. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but still, he was there, ready to play.
Note: Above are excerpts from the article. The full article appears here. Clarifications and comments by me are contained in {}. Deletions are marked by [...]. The bold emphasis is mine.
posted by Vahe Balabanian at 8:21 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home