games
Jon Henderson feels the Sampras factor rather than marriage is behind the decline of a moody genius
PETE SAMPRAS’S favourite line from literature is from The Catcher In The Rye: “Don’t ever tell anybody anything.” Andre Agassi, Sampras’s great rival on the tennis court, is from the opposing, let-it-all- hang-out corner.
The silent approach may not be box-office, but, in the all-demanding world of modern professional sport, spending time on public self-analysis is becoming an ill-advised distraction. As Sampras’s career continues to cruise at altitude, Agassi’s is in danger of stalling.
“In my career, there’s always been something in my life that pays the price for the success of the other,” says Agassi in his latest outpouring in the American magazine Tennis. “It’s not really possible to have a dedicated career in a sport with no off-season and also maintain the number of relationships, with family, with friends, with business, or even [to keep] your own peace of mind.’
You would never catch Sampras saying this, and not just because he believes in keeping his lip buttoned. Sampras has demonstrated that it is possible to have a dedicated career and maintain relationships; he and his girlfriend, Delaina Mulcahy, have been going out for many years while he has stayed at the pinnacle of the men’s game. Agassi, though, has convinced himself that it is not possible and, although it may be presumptuous – and probably wrong – to say that his wooing and recent wedding of the actress Brooke Shields has been the distraction, something has patently put him off his tennis.
Agassi, who was 27 last month, has been
more chump than champ in his start to 1997, which has seen him sink to 28th in the rankings. His growing irritation with his poor form led to a 700 fine recently when he refused to attend a press conference after losing in the AT&T Challenge in Atlanta. Then, two weeks ago, he received a 1 800 penalty for reneging on a firm pledge to compete in the German Open. A fax from Agassi’s Las Vegas-based management firm blamed his late withdrawal from the tournament in Hamburg on a wrist injury, but the fine by the Association of Tennis Professionals, who or-ganise the men’s tour, gave official backing to those who felt that a little scepticism about the injury was in order.
But this week Agassi cited the same injury when he withdrew from the French Open.
Some of those players responsible for Agassi’s run of four first-round defeats between mid-February and mid-March would have been nervous just hitting against him in a practice session during his 30-week reign at the top of the rankings in 1994- 95. Now even the lowliest player reckons he has a chance against a man whose extravagant natural gifts are constantly compromised by a mind that can be as fuzzy as Sampras’s is focused.
In fairness to Agassi, his talent has also been compromised by a build that is more boxer than tennis player – not entirely surprising given that his Armenian-born father, Mike, boxed for Iran at the 1948 and 1952 Olympics and that, at one point, Agassi became obsessed with trying to bench-press twice his weight. Certainly he is one of the few successful players in the modern game who is under 1,8m, which means that hanging in there against some of today’s big-serving behemoths taxes his concentration more than it does most.
“It takes an incredible amount of intensity for me to play my game,” he told Tennis. “If Pete [Sampras] and Boris [Becker] are a little off, they can hold serve long enough and maybe something good will happen. If I’m a little off, it’s tougher. I’ve got to break guys down. To do that week in and week out, year in and year out, is difficult.”
Even so, Agassi has done it in the past, so it is not the most convincing explanation for his present travails. “The guy has done almost nothing for nearly two years now,” says John Feinstein, the American tennis writer and best-selling author. “He made it through to the US Open semi-finals last September and that was really his one good result of the entire year. The American media always make a big deal out of his Davis Cup victories, but who’s he beaten in those matches? Generally guys who aren’t ranked in the top 100.”
Feinstein is wary about blaming Agassi’s relationship with Shields, which has involved a series of wearying spats with Teri Shields, now his (disapproving) mother-in-law, for the player’s slump in form. “It’s always a hard one to gauge,” says Feinstein. “John McEnroe talked about losing some of his anger when he fell in love with Tatum O’Neal, and there seemed to be something in that. But when he first became involved with her he played some of his best tennis and won back the US Open title in 1984.”
A more likely explanation is that Sampras is the distraction that has derailed Agassi. While Sampras remained devoted to working on his own game when his rivalry with Agassi was at its height two years ago, Agassi was discomposed by it.
Publicly he revelled in it – “Andre likes the spotlight,” says Feinstein, “whereas if Pete could play in front of his five best friends and nobody else he’d be very happy” – but privately he fretted and constantly sought reassurance that he was capable of staying at the top. He leant far more heavily on his coach, Brad Gilbert, than Sampras has ever done.
Agassi once observed: “Nobody tells Pete how to play. Me, it’s the opposite. I have all the shots, but what the hell do I do with them?”
“I think the US Open final in 1995 that he lost to Sampras really took a lot out of Andre,” says Feinstein. “Even though he had beaten Sampras in the Australian final earlier in the year, he seemed to sense Pete felt that whenever he played his best tennis he was going to beat him. Something seemed to go out of Andre as a result of that. My sense is that he’s just not that interested. At least for the moment; at least for the last year-and-a-half.”
So can he get back? Feinstein is cautious about writing him off completely: “The one thing about Andre is that his gifts are so great that if he did wake up tomorrow morning and say, `Okay, I’m devoting myself to tennis for the next two years’, he could be great again. If he wants to work at it, if he wants to get back in shape, if he wants to start grinding out matches again, he’s capable.”
But having said that, Feinstein adds: “He’s 27 and if you look historically at great players, once they hit their mid-twenties and they’re not right at the top they start to fade. Lendl and Connors were obvious exceptions, but McEnroe won his last major title when he was 25 and so did Borg. When you’re not fully motivated when you get past 25, it’s hard to be a champion.”
If Sampras takes his text for life from The Catcher In The Rye, Agassi takes his from any number of diverse sources, from pop- psych authors to CS Lewis, from the motivational guru Anthony Robbins to Pope John Paul II, whose book Crossing the Threshold of Hope he keeps reading “over and over”. Can too much reading ruin your tennis? Perhaps Brooke should make him turn the light out earlier.