“Hurry, hurry, hurry!  Book your seats for encore performance of wildly popular New York City show!  Final showing after two-decade run!  Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

 

For the next fortnight, theatres on Broadway will have nothing on a stadium in Queens, for after twenty dramatic seasons, The Andre Agassi Show is finally coming to a close, and with it, some of the best theatre the tennis world has ever seen.

 

I have had a particularly good seat to The Show—from junior days together at the Bollettieri Tennis Academy in Florida to teaming up for doubles on Tour (he defaulted our final in Hong Kong!) to knock-down-drag-out battles at Wimbledon to a fourth-round match on his favorite stage of all…the U.S. Open. 

 

Above all, it is New York where The Show has made especially good theatre, complete with kisses and bows…    

 

There were the farcical acts with a bleached-blond, mulletted Andre sporting neon pink spandex under blue jean shorts.

 

There were the comedic acts with gal pal Barbra Streisand gushing courtside about Andre being “very evolved…a Zen master.”

 

There were the romantic acts with Brooke Shields cheerleading from the front row, and then later, Steffi Graf, clapping discreetly from a mid-level suite.

 

There were the tragic acts with four first-round exits, and perhaps even more painful, four final-round losses (three to Sampras, one to Federer).    

 

There were the dramatic acts, most notably the 7-6 in the fifth set win-for-the-aged against James Blake in last year’s quarterfinal. 

 

And finally, there were the triumphal acts with two U.S. Open titles, over Michael Stich in 1994 and Todd Martin in 1999.

 

Now, with this being Andre’s 21^st straight and final U.S. Open, there’s only one act left…the tear-jerking one. 

 

The slogan for this year’s tournament may be “It’s Showtime!” but Andre Agassi has become far more than a showman.  You see, the tennis stage is a place not conducive to acting.  Perhaps more than any other sport, tennis has a way of exacting one’s substance and exposing one’s faults.  It’s one-on-one battle—no teammates to rely on, no coaches to help, no clock to run out.  You are ultimately responsible for any deficiency of craft or character.

 

A stroke may be simple to mend, but self, quite another.  So we witnessed with the young man Agassi—the impetuosity, the inconsistency, the intractability.  Yet, instead of these foibles becoming habitual, Agassi managed to do what all men should desire—to change for the better. 

 

The reality is that too many sportsmen either change for the worse (e.g. drug cheats) or never change at all (e.g. Terrell Owens).  There are those who change for the better, but never has one come so far from repudiation to reputability.  The sporting ethic, the charitable foundation, the husband and father…the respect he’s cultivated for the game, for others, for himself is now reciprocal.

 

This is why Agassi is beloved and will be missed—he went from very soft to very strong—physically and mentally—and he did it in front of our eyes.  We can all so aspire.

 

As an encore is usually shorter than an act, expect this year at the U.S. Open to be more of the former for Agassi with his ailing back, limited match play, and a difficult section of the draw.  Duplicating his thrilling run to last year’s final—and near victory over Roger Federer—would be asking too much.  Nevertheless, as with any great show, the audience demands a curtain call.  For Pete Sampras, it was important to go out on top; for Agassi, it’s important to answer that call—another measure of the man.         

 

While no one will upstage Andre at this year’s Open—not 49-year-old Martina Navratilova with her own swan song or even Billie Jean King, for whom the National Tennis Center is being renamed (thereby creating the mother of all acronyms—U.S.T.A.B.J.K.N.T.C.)—we still must have a pair of champions. 

 

Two-time defending champ and world number-one Roger Federer is the obvious choice coming off his third straight Wimbledon win along with a summer hard court title in Toronto.  French Open champ and improbable Wimbledon finalist Rafael Nadal will bring his special brand of bravado to New York, but a disappointing hard court season doesn’t bode well for him.

 

After ineptitude of historic proportions at Wimbledon, I’m looking for our American lads (but not our languishing ladies) to rebound big-time in the Big Apple.  Hometown favorite and top American James Blake has continued to make great strides since his Instant Classic with Agassi last year, including a title over Roddick in Indianapolis earlier this summer, but he’s waned of late causing some doubt as to whether he’s ready to garner a first grand slam.    

 

It has been an overcast year for Roddick, but he may finally be seeing some breaks of sun.  Winning the U.S. Open series with a charged victory in Cincinnati last weekend, new coach Jimmy Connors just may be imparting the one thing Roddick has been lacking—an imposing style and mentality.  As one who draws from, rather than is drained by, the mega-watt U.S. Open energy, I’ll pick the surging Roddick to match his 2003 title.

 

Whoever the winners, U.S. Open Showtime will be losing its irreplaceable leading man, one who has and always will leave us wanting more.

 

 

Minnesota’s David Wheaton served and volleyed his way to three victories over Andre Agassi on Tour.  On six other occasions, the Agassi return of serve won out.  You can find out more at www.davidwheaton.com.