Category: Nonfiction:
Sports (Tennis); Celebrity
Synopsis: Agassi
rehearses his tennis career, his relationships, and his inability to quit the
thing he hates most.
Date finished: 1
August 2014
Rating: *****
Comments:
Okay, here’s the thing: Andre Agassi hated tennis. He wanted
to quit playing most of the years he played. From age 7 up, he wanted to be
free of the thing that had made him who he was to everyone but himself. But the
truth was, he didn’t know how to do anything else, to be anyone but what he was
created to be. So he played. For 30 years, he played a sport he hated. And he
was dang good at it. In his long career, he is one of only four male singles
players to achieve a Career Grand Slam (all four Grand Slam championships:
Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, and US Open). He was number one in the
world, and played more years than most men are physically able to. All the
while wishing he would quit.
Now, if that kind of conflict doesn’t make for a kick-butt memoir, I don’t
know what does.
I’ve read my share of celebrity memoirs. Everyone from Marie
Osmond to Shirley MacLaine to Julie Andrews to Jay Leno. They’re usually pretty
awful. You kind of expect that in a celebrity memoir. You forgive it, because
they are not writers. But Open
knocked my head back. It really did blow me away. Agassi is a deeply
introspective guy who can really get to the heart of the matter without excuses
or hang-ups. He’s gritty and honest and comes across as quite respectable.
If you followed Agassi’s career, you know the press portrayed him as an egomaniac with control issues. He
dressed oddly on the court (remember the jean shorts?) and wore his hair in odd
styles/colors (until he just shaved it). And he was angry. He smashed his rackets
and got ejected from games for swearing at the court stewards. But really, he
was an insecure man who hadn’t been allowed to figure out who he was before
becoming a star. And the odd thing is, he seemed to know he was an insecure guy who’d never been allowed to figure out
who he was. Which made the shackles of tennis even harder to break.
Agassi is unreservedly frank here. He doesn’t hold back, and
he doesn’t seem to be writing to “air it all.” He seems to genuinely be writing
for the sake of getting to the heart of the matter. He’s honest about his
screw-ups and flaws and aspirations and gifts. He’s precise and searing but can
also bring tears to your eyes. He talks about his abusive father, about his
friendships, his rivals (esp. Pete Sampras. Always
Pete.), his marriage to Stefani Graff. And, he dishes about his ill-fated
first marriage to Brooke Shields whom he couldn’t respect because being an
actress seemed wholly disingenuous to him. He talks about dropping out of high
school—which pleased his father, if that’s any indication of his family
dynamic. He discusses admitting to using meth but lying about it being an
accident in such a way that I felt sorry for him and was inclined to cut him
some slack.
In addition to learning about what makes Agassi tick, I
learned a bit about tennis. Mostly, I learned this surprising fact: In tennis
you can be the best player in the world and lose. A lot. Tennis players lose a lot
of games.
And one last thing. This book could have absolutely stunk
and I still would have given it one star for its great title. Brilliant pun.
Oh, also, I would have given it one star for its cover.
Aside from being sexy, the extreme close-up is gutsy (just like Agassi) and
reinforces the “Open” theme.
Would you recommend
this to a friend?
Absolutely.