It's so sad. I did start watching tennis just as he was bursting onto the scene. And it's so weird to see how it's all played out. I remember people like Johnny Mac complaining about his grunting. Everyone thought he was a punk. And he was. He refused to play Wimbledon because they wouldn't let him wear his acid washed shorts. I remember people treating him like they would eventually treat Anna Kournikova for being all style and no substance, since it seemed he couldn't win a major tournament. And then having him eventually win at Wimbledon in his tennis whites. I remember jumping up and down that Sunday morning. We made it through Babs, Brooke, male pattern baldness, being ranked 200something, all of it. He came back to become a great elder of the tribe, a wonderful humanitarian, and someone who entertained us for 21 years. It's like separating from a childhood friend. It really is.
The best part for me was hearing a couple days later that Pete Sampras was watching. He watched the way a true champion left the game beloved by all. Pete will have his record books to love him for a few years until Roger Federer takes that away from him. And then years from now when parents tell their children about the greatest tennis player ever, his name will be Andre Agassi. Winning hearts is more important than winning titles.
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