A love/hate triangle (Part 2)

Since he was so happy to explain his mental approach to tennis -- and Franco Squillari -- after dispatching the Argentinean in the fourth round of the French Open, it seemed that Andre Agassi -- who has made enormous strides in his personal life as well as his tennis game over the years, was in as much of a sagely and philosophical groove as he was in a tennis groove. No heart-to-heart with Steffi seemed necessary.

A man who has consistently increased his charitable involvements over the years, and who has become more of a voice of authority and respect on the men's tour, held court with the fourth estate in Paris after his five-set win over Squillari, the dirtballer from South America. Andre has certainly evolved and grown over the course of his career, and this moment in front of the media, in many ways, represented the apex of his evolution.

Just sit back and listen... and listen... and listen, to the illuminating Andre Agassi soliloquy:

On Squillari:

"[Squillari's] got a big forehand," Agassi said, "so my goal was to get to his backhand because I just didn't quite believe that shot would hold up. I think the best pattern for him is his forehand to my backhand. The best pattern for me was my forehand to his backhand. Now it boils down to who's going to dictate play? Who is going to get more looks at that pattern? Because I can take the ball early, I can work different heights and depths. You just hope you execute well when those opportunities come ... Any match-up, you look at what the meat and potatoes are going to be. You look at what one guy is trying to do, what is the other guy trying to do. You pull out the points that kind of establish both of them trying to pull it off."

On running and fitness:

"I'll tell you what's not correct about that," (laugh). "I didn't run. I sprinted. You know, I'd be guessing, but that seems low. I would have said more like 3.7 miles as opposed to K's. I had four break points in the first game of the fifth set (of the 1988 French semis against Mats Wilander). I just spent everything I had. I was dead. I was starting to cramp. I had no more energy left. I knew [my] 5'11", 145 pounds wasn't going to win a Slam. It was the kind of match that taught me I really needed to get stronger and make myself able to play for five sets the way I [usually] play the game, because it's physical."

On Paris:

"I show up at these places and you never know when is the last time [I'm] going to be here. It's special ... Here in Paris, it's been a long time I've gotten support. Losing two finals, being favored, there was always something that felt missing in my career. Somehow, I always got the feeling something was missing for the French people not to see me finally do it after so many years. Then when I did, I feel it just kind of elevated the romance of it all."

Ah, yes, as long as he was winning, Andre was in his renewed, reformed and refreshing role of gentleman, professor and crowd favorite.

And then adversity struck.

After two miserable sets against Sebastian Grosjean in the quarterfinals, two days after the Squillari soliloquy, Agassi could have circled the wagons, as he did when down two sets to love against Andrei Medvedev in the '99 French final, the match that catapulted him into the tennis elite when he emerged as a five-set winner.

Against Grosjean, however, Agassi inexplicably lost his cool, forgot to win with fitness, and checked his tennis IQ at the door. He went down meekly in the fourth to lose the match. As if that wasn't bad enough, however, Agassi -- Mr. Charmer with the media after a satisfying win -- was nothing but curt and surly -- kinda like all those stereotypes you hear about French waiters -- after his loss to Grosjean, the 10th-seeded Frenchman.

Agassi's exchange with reporters averaged no more than five or six words per reply, if that. In machine-gun fashion, Agassi dealt with questions the same way he dealt with Grosjean's offerings on the court just minutes earlier: he got them the heck over with, without any patience or professionalism, and then left the scene of his repugnant, ugly-American behavior, behavior that brought back to mind his early days as a brat.

So, let's say it once more, with feeling (what kind of feeling, we don't know): what must Steffi Graf be thinking these days?

She knows how much mental toughness means in tennis -- just ask Martina Hingis. Heck, Graf has personally seen her boyfriend outlast plenty of players in five sets, sprinting back to the chair during changeovers in the middle of the fifth and getting inside the heads of fatigued opponents. Why would Agassi's dedication to fitness and (apparently selective uses of) gentlemanly behavior both fade away so quickly?

One has to wonder: in temperament and in tennis, which is the better love match -- Graf and Agassi, or Hingis and Agassi? The way they've been acting and playing, especially in France, it seems as though Martina and Andre would make a perfectly paired -- and surly -- couple.

At any rate, Steffi has some work to do in the intervening weeks before Wimbledon. A certain player who always manages to be a gentleman, if a quiet one, is back on his favorite surface, looking for an eighth Wimbledon crown. Andre is not the scholarly authority on grass; Pete Sampras is. It will take some of that old mental toughness for Andre Agassi to regain some of the luster he just lost in Paris, both on and off the court. Graf will need to remind her guy about the finer points of championship tennis -- and about proper decorum before the royal box.