Last week I had the pleasure of being able to watch and witness--in person--Andre Agassi's last victory as a professional. This was last Thursday, a balmy night, and he was playing a young player from Cyprus, Marcos Baghdatis, who is actually #8 in the world. No slouch.
It was amazing--vintage Agassi, vintage late-night U.S. Open. I went with my friend Amy's boyfriend, Robert, a cute Irishman. Our seats were high up, but still decent. The best part was the energy, rowdiness, and excitement of the crowd. From point one, the place was nuts. Almost unruly, like we were at some Davis Cup match in South America or something.
WE didn't get out of there until about 1:00am, and then the subway ride back to Grand Central was packed and took a long time. All in all, I didn't get home until 2:30am. So the ride home from Flushing Meadow sucks, esepcially at night. But it was all worth it. Even if Agassi had lost (which he did in his next match), it would have been worth it, because then we would have seen his very last match, ever. It was historic, anyway you looked at it.
I've been a fan of his since the get-go, even when he had really bad hair and bad clothes. He's just such an exciting player--his power, his grit, his mental game. No one will ever compare, probably. I do love Andy Roddick, but he has a long way to go to achieve what Agassi did. Plus, Agassi had to rely on a lot more than just a serve.
Don't even get me started on the women's game now, which is sort of a snoozefest. I miss Monica Seles the most. And will anything ever compare to Martina vs. Chrissie in the 1980s? I know, I'm old...
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