Andre Agassi is now Open

How reading about tennis made me a tennis fan

I just finished the Andre Agassi book Open. It actually got better than the first third I had under my belt when I wrote the last blog about it, Love & Hate. Drugs & Rebellion only a few days ago.

Agassi, and his ghostwriter J. R. Moehringer did something difficult, though not impossible, and it is something essential for the captivating portrayal of a compelling life's story. And I must note here that by life's story I mean Agassi's professional tennis career, since his life is far from over, and I suspect, his best, most personally significant years are still taking shape as his school and family grow and mature. This essential thing is simple, but not always easy to accomplish. I suppose it may be the same reason fans cheered for Agassi all those years he played. With Agassi's Open, throughout moments that make you groan with the knowing that only a spectator can have as he throws tantrums and subjects himself to self-destruction and loathing; throughout experiencing stories of his poor decisions, poor judgment, and poor self image, you still root for the guy. 

I literally cheered aloud at some of his wins, laughed at his life's idiosyncrasies, and wept during his most poignant personal triumphs. His brief summary of his speech at his wife Stefanie Graff's induction into the Tennis Hall of Fame had me wiping my eyes so that I could see properly to continue reading. I was delighted every time he spoke of their courtship, and read the majority of passages about the Stefanie and Andre love story to Marcus. Like any good voracious reader in love in my own right, I relate their story to my own with my love Marcus. The way our lives lined things up for us to meet reminds me of Stefanie and Andre.

Relate-ability is another essential in the telling of a compelling life story.

My hunger for this book is especially impressive considering I'm not even a tennis fan. Well, I didn't used to be. I was honestly riveted by the retelling of tennis matches, which I hardly even understood at the beginning of the book because tennis was still somewhat a mystery to me (Those Brits love to make things more complicated than necessary - it's a British game, right?)  Marcus helped to explain the rules and mechanics of the game, and I started watching highlights of old matches online. I may even try playing. An alarming proposition as it's been the retort I've joked about for years when people scoff and say, is there anything you can't do? Tennis, I often say. I'm a terrible tennis player.

Also, the part that inspired my previous blog, about him hating tennis and the drugs and rebellion of his youth. While the first third of the book had me hooked and contemplating, finishing the book has given me a wider lens. I'm reminded of something I shared with a female friend the night before her wedding. I said, You're choosing this man to marry. That's as powerful as love and commitment and romance. Choice. You choose him. I believe she used it in her vows. I said it partly out of support of her finishing the writing of her vows, and partly out of my own fascination with how people come to the point where they know they want to marry and at that moment I realized choice is the primary ingredient of that milestone in a person's life. Flour to life's sweetest cake.

The last third of the book illustrates a man who still may "hate" tennis, but is choosing his life and his job of playing tennis as part of what his life is about and part of what gives him power - to open his school, have the notoriety to gain attention and funding for said school, and support his family. Also, it seems, it's what he knows how to do best, and sometimes that's stronger than hate and professions of hate, especially when we come to a point in our lives where we choose the thing we thought we hated most.

I'm inspired most by his school, since it's been a lifelong dream of mine to open a school. Marcus' too. It seems this is something we will do together, somehow, someday in the not too distant future. My parents are both teachers, retired, and as Agassi's dad valued tennis (and greatness and competition) above all else, my parents valued teaching and education and choice above all else. I'm lucky they both taught with less urgency and a softer tone than senior Agassi did with Andre and Andre's siblings.

How funny that my next trip to Vegas will likely include a trip to Andre Agassi College Preparatory Academy. Heck, my next trip to Vegas might be all about a trip to AACPA. I've never gambled in Vegas, despite over a dozen trips for work (largely as a reality television producer for Rehab - party at the Hard Rock). My Texas Hold'em and Blackjack playing has largely taken place with friends and at local Los Angeles casinos. Strange, I know, but the gambling in Vegas is so blatant and unapologetic, I'm instantly turned off. Like those old suitors who came on too strong. I never responded well to overly aggressive men, and Vegas feels that way to me about gambling. So it's settled. A visit to Agassi's Academy is in my near future.

Clearly, this book inspired me.

If you like to be inspired, read this book.

Thanks to Andre Agassi, his children Jaden and Jaz for inspiring him and giving him reason, to Stefanie for saying yes, to all the players in the book, and to J. R. Moehringer, for weaving the stories so beautifully. I feel so tremendously grateful for good books and good stories. Thanks to my parents for that. Another enormous gift my parents bestowed upon me, among many, giant, innumerable gifts.

More Interesting Katie Strand World Posts

• Farts
• Love & Hate. Drugs & Rebellion.
• Occam's Razor - It's a Life & Faith Principle
• If Richard Pryor had a period...
• If you're prone to nudeness...
• Hello, my name is Temple Grandin.
• Blog tease, yelling to no one & the secret to long...
• My Addendum to "Choose a Job You Love...
• The Primal Diet & Running
• Chop Wood, Carry Water, Do Taxes
• The male member revealed
• Play with the Girls
• How to tame the psycho hose beast
• Oh boy, that's a good question! or How to Deal with the Census
• These boots were made for walking
• If I were a Ninja, I'd wear these shoes
• How my friend Sally became the new First Lady
• My Boyfriend has Autism...Maybe
• Raw Primal Papaya Custard - The Nectar of the Gods
  
• And All the Cows Said Moo!
• If you were John Mayer, you would too
• Tiredness - Varieties of and unforeseen side-effects
• Foreplay is overrated
• Food should be As God Intended or Why isn't everything we eat organic?
• Yelling - One of the Highest Forms of Compassion
  
• The Cove - Louie Psihoyos' Oscar speech & a guide on how to create change...
• My Favorite Things...Arrabiata Recipe - Fresh, Organic, Vegan or Primal
• My Favorite Shows on Television...or how David Duchovney & Jesus are likely Good in Bed
• The Hawaiian Islands and Washington D.C.’s sand-paper circle-jerk about Health Care
• My Buddha has Termites...A Lesson in Infinite Joy
• The One-Date-Wonders!
• I had to learn SIGN LANGUAGE when I moved to Los Angeles
• Guys can make a game out of anything
• Hello? The power of CONNECTING and how technology has changed things
• Popping the question is better than porn!
• Bravo, Stephen Colbert & Co! and your Olympic Vancouverage
• Songwriting is like SEX
• Born To Run by Christopher McDougall - Inspiring a inspiring all of us to be more in the FLOW
• A moment of silence for all the plastic surgery ca...
• Ricky Gervais should be the new Simon on American Idol
• Muscle SURPRISE! The key to physical, mental & emotional fitness
• I think my boyfriend's a snake...
• Release... Sweat & Power
• MY FAVORITE THINGS! - Vibram's Five Fingers
• Dick Morris... How do you sleep at night?
• Rusty DePass, Gorillas, and Obama, oh my!
• Michael Jackson - Troubled Genius

New Music
&
Posts 

at
Katie Strand Music

• To Make You Feel My Love
• Please Don't Leave Me
• Going To California
  
• Come Back
• Home