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Andre - The Giant
Posted by the lazy knight
on
9:21 PM
There is a certain sense of sadness and inevitability when a childhood hero rides into the sunset- bidding goodbye, never to be seen again in the arena which in a certain day and age belonged to him. As Andre Agassi played his last game of tennis at the US open yesterday, one couldn’t help thinking that for once he appeared on the court as a completely honest image of the man he is. In his mid thirties, his back troubling and hindering his movements, his reflexes slowed by creeping age and an inflamed disc in the lower spine…Agassi to the layman must have looked over the hill and too old to be out there playing with the fancy new hard hitters.
But then Andre Agassi has never been what he seems. Even yesterday, he battled pain…took on injections and stretched his unwilling body to the limit. In fact, at one stage he even had a set point to carry the match into a fifth and decisive set. For the some one of his age and physical limitations (he had been playing with the inflamed disc for the last one year), he summoned mountains of will and effort to carry himself through three grueling games against men almost half his age. And when he cried at the end of the game in the centre of the court, you knew that here was a man who not only loved his sport but also carried all the emotions that it brings right on his sleeve.
And it there that the Las Vegan differed from his contemporaries. Pete Sampras was the composed, steely and dry champion. A man who possessed an unbeatable game, a man whom everyone would like but few would love. Michael Chang and Jim Courier, Agassi’s two other American compatriots from the famed generation of the early nineties, sizzled too briefly for history to capture their light. Agassi though was a man tailor made for a sport that craved a hero who could bring the crowds in. He was the extravagant, young no holds barred American who wore the latest fashions on the courts. He was the new John Mcenroe, signifying his resistance not against the referees but those who thought tennis was a game of whites. He brought in more than just color to the game; there was effervescence to his game, a certain kind of freshness as he grunted and sprinted his way across the courts in denims, headbands and outrageous looking t-shirts.
My first memories of Agassi are as a seven year old watching the final of the 1990 US open between him and Sampras. I still recall staying awake late into the night with my father. It is an age at which you are too young to understand the nuances of the game and make preferences by appearances. You choose by looks or color.. and I liked the guy in all blue with the long hair and girly earrings. Agassi lost that night (he was to loose more Grand Slam finals than any of his contemporaries… which in itself prompts a question of what might have been had he won even half of those); but for me he was a favorite from that night on. I remember egging him on through a thrilling five set French Open final that he lost to Jim Courier…feeling at top of the world when he won his first Grand Slam at Wimbledon and then feeling morose as he lost himself completely for a year or so in the mid nineties.
But Agassi was not one to fade away…he came back hungry and in the first of the many comebacks he would orchestrate, he won the US Open as an unseeded player in 1995. He was a complete contrast then to his image at the beginning of his career. He had shaved his head, sported a beard and looked more like West Asian than an American. He resembled a fugitive out on a chase who hadn’t been able to get his hands on a razor. The turnaround had begun. As he began to do justice to his talents, another slump followed which culminated in that epic French Open win in 1999. Down two sets, he came back (once again) and won when no one had given him even a fig leaf’s chance.
Growing up watching Andre Agassi’s exploits one realized the difference he possessed as compared to the others. Sampras was cool, stoic and won with boring regularity. The same is the case with Federer while Rafael Nadal looks like a kid who cant stop himself from pumping his forearms inside the gym and outside on the court. With Agassi you experienced the entire range of emotions a sport carries with it…joy when he won, despondency when he lost and sheer frustration when you saw him wasting away his talent.
At the end of his two decade long carrier Agassi stands on his own; one of the greatest to have played the game… a man who brought color and crowds to tennis…a worthy successor to the rebellious Mcenroe but also a man who refined into the graceful sportsman. But more than his eight grand slams and the fact that in the modern era he remains the only one after Bjorn Borg to have won on all the four surfaces (even Sampras and Federer have not been able to win on the French clay), Agassi will always be remembered as the man whom you would love to watch. He remained a crowd favorite from his first day on the court to his last. A respected champion who made the uninitiated and the casual follower a part of the tennis caravan… an idol kids loved to imitate without any apology. He remains an inspiration to middle aged men around the world that life’s best years need not occur in the best part of the twenties. He may leave the court but Andre Agassi’s legacy will endure long after the nets have been rolled up and balls have been boxed and kits packed. For many people around the globe he would remain the only reason for loving the game of tennis.
But then Andre Agassi has never been what he seems. Even yesterday, he battled pain…took on injections and stretched his unwilling body to the limit. In fact, at one stage he even had a set point to carry the match into a fifth and decisive set. For the some one of his age and physical limitations (he had been playing with the inflamed disc for the last one year), he summoned mountains of will and effort to carry himself through three grueling games against men almost half his age. And when he cried at the end of the game in the centre of the court, you knew that here was a man who not only loved his sport but also carried all the emotions that it brings right on his sleeve.
And it there that the Las Vegan differed from his contemporaries. Pete Sampras was the composed, steely and dry champion. A man who possessed an unbeatable game, a man whom everyone would like but few would love. Michael Chang and Jim Courier, Agassi’s two other American compatriots from the famed generation of the early nineties, sizzled too briefly for history to capture their light. Agassi though was a man tailor made for a sport that craved a hero who could bring the crowds in. He was the extravagant, young no holds barred American who wore the latest fashions on the courts. He was the new John Mcenroe, signifying his resistance not against the referees but those who thought tennis was a game of whites. He brought in more than just color to the game; there was effervescence to his game, a certain kind of freshness as he grunted and sprinted his way across the courts in denims, headbands and outrageous looking t-shirts.
My first memories of Agassi are as a seven year old watching the final of the 1990 US open between him and Sampras. I still recall staying awake late into the night with my father. It is an age at which you are too young to understand the nuances of the game and make preferences by appearances. You choose by looks or color.. and I liked the guy in all blue with the long hair and girly earrings. Agassi lost that night (he was to loose more Grand Slam finals than any of his contemporaries… which in itself prompts a question of what might have been had he won even half of those); but for me he was a favorite from that night on. I remember egging him on through a thrilling five set French Open final that he lost to Jim Courier…feeling at top of the world when he won his first Grand Slam at Wimbledon and then feeling morose as he lost himself completely for a year or so in the mid nineties.
But Agassi was not one to fade away…he came back hungry and in the first of the many comebacks he would orchestrate, he won the US Open as an unseeded player in 1995. He was a complete contrast then to his image at the beginning of his career. He had shaved his head, sported a beard and looked more like West Asian than an American. He resembled a fugitive out on a chase who hadn’t been able to get his hands on a razor. The turnaround had begun. As he began to do justice to his talents, another slump followed which culminated in that epic French Open win in 1999. Down two sets, he came back (once again) and won when no one had given him even a fig leaf’s chance.
Growing up watching Andre Agassi’s exploits one realized the difference he possessed as compared to the others. Sampras was cool, stoic and won with boring regularity. The same is the case with Federer while Rafael Nadal looks like a kid who cant stop himself from pumping his forearms inside the gym and outside on the court. With Agassi you experienced the entire range of emotions a sport carries with it…joy when he won, despondency when he lost and sheer frustration when you saw him wasting away his talent.
At the end of his two decade long carrier Agassi stands on his own; one of the greatest to have played the game… a man who brought color and crowds to tennis…a worthy successor to the rebellious Mcenroe but also a man who refined into the graceful sportsman. But more than his eight grand slams and the fact that in the modern era he remains the only one after Bjorn Borg to have won on all the four surfaces (even Sampras and Federer have not been able to win on the French clay), Agassi will always be remembered as the man whom you would love to watch. He remained a crowd favorite from his first day on the court to his last. A respected champion who made the uninitiated and the casual follower a part of the tennis caravan… an idol kids loved to imitate without any apology. He remains an inspiration to middle aged men around the world that life’s best years need not occur in the best part of the twenties. He may leave the court but Andre Agassi’s legacy will endure long after the nets have been rolled up and balls have been boxed and kits packed. For many people around the globe he would remain the only reason for loving the game of tennis.
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