AS THE late Dudley Moore was fond of singing, “Now is the time to say goodbye.” Furthermore, as he so frequently went on to state, “Now is the time to yield a sigh.” To which the equally late Peter Cook was wont to add, encouragingly, from beside the piano, “Yield it, yield it.” At the US Open, it was Andre Agassi’s time to say goodbye and yield a sigh, and he needed no encouragement.
Boy did he yield it. He yielded it like there was no tomorrow — which, of course, in terms of his career, there wasn’t. There has never been a sporting farewell like it — a farewell beyond Kleenex and deep into the all-over sponge-down zone. Some analysts are even arguing that, in its spectacular wringing of emotion, the Agassi sign-off transcended sport altogether and should be allowed to take its place in the pantheon of Oscar acceptance speeches.
We’ll leave it to the historians to fight over that one. What is true is that, for a long while, it looked as if any kind of words at all would prove beyond the outgoing hero. Having dragged himself to the middle of the court and kissed his fingertips in all directions of the compass, Agassi returned to his chair to blub copiously into his towel, as a man must who has been 21 years in the game and now faces an uncertain future as an enormously popular multimillionaire.
The cameras closed in and revealed a trembly rictus of grief and a pair of eyes that were as red as a Baywatch swim suit. No one in their right mind would have been backing the player to commit oratory at this point.
Yet that’s the deal for professional tennis players these days. Nobody gets away with a blown kiss and a silent but dignified, towel-wrapped retreat — even after four sets when your back is killing you. You’ve got to endure an on-court interview and share with the crowd, and the watching world, the feelings that you have barely had time to have about an episode that has barely concluded.
Advertisement
So up stepped Andre again, still, surely, in no condition to answer any question calling for more than a nod or a shake of the head. Yet, of course, Agassi is famous, above all, for digging deep. Was he ever more consummately professional than at this moment? We knew we were in for something special when he took the microphone and waved away the interviewer — never the action of an under-confident public speaker.
Even then, Agassi spent some time pacing in a circle, one hand at the back of his head, trying to gather himself and, if not actually stop the sobbing, at least arrest it to the point where it might be possible to speak over the top of it. The effort of this caused him to release a couple of involuntary, gulped yelps, of the kind that Michael Jackson used to make, in happier times for the singer.
Finally, though, he was away. “The scoreboard says I lost today. But what the scoreboard doesn’t say is what it is I have found.” Yield it, Andre, yield it.
“I have found loyalty — you have pulled for me on the court and also in life. I have found inspiration — you have wished for me to succeed, sometimes even in my lowest moments.” Can you imagine Wayne Rooney doing this kind of thing? Or Michael Schumacher?
“And I have found generosity. You have given me your shoulders to stand on to reach for my dreams, dreams I could’ve never reached without you.” Some strings at this moment, or a burst of Whitney Houston, would have pretty much polished everyone off and rendered the rest of the tournament at best highly doubtful. But fortunately, the post-match interviews are one of those rare intervals at the US Open when music isn’t pumping from the PA, enabling Agassi to go for the big finish.
Advertisement
“Over the last 21 years, I have found you, and I will take you and the memory of you with me for the rest of my life.” Cue the absolute jellification of anyone with half a heart and a pulse. As for the cynical suggestion that this was not a spontaneous outpouring and that Agassi had a crack team of greetings card verse-writers working on these words into the small hours, we’ll have none of it. We’re with Barry Cowan, the former British tennis hopeful, who had another look at the tapes on television yesterday. “Certain people think it’s a little over the top,” Cowan opined, “but it’s certainly not.” Certainly not.
Incidentally, Lindsay Davenport has been talking about retiring. I’d leave it for a while, if I were her. The bar on tennis farewell speeches is unhelpfully high now. That said, the Pete’n’Dud option remains open:
“A-yatter-ta-ta, a-yatter-ta-ta.”
GILES SMITH RETURNS
ON THURSDAY