I missed out on Andre Agassi’s grand farewell speech at the Arthur Ashe Stadium in New York, as I was in deep slumber in far off India. I would have watched the whole match, hadn’t it be for the time divide. I watched it today in the morning and tears welled out of my eyes. Though tears are hard to come by in this age, but I was crying for Andre. I watched the lad when he started playing tennis as a funky young man with weirdo hairstyle, and cloths, as much as I loved to hate the brash young man at that time, I started to love him as he grew more matured. No one should take the credit of outplaying the man than Jonathan Becker, he was the better player of the day. He deserved to win over the gallant Andre playing with an excruciating pain in the back. But like million fans all over the world, I desperately wanted him to win the match. When slumber took over my tired mind I slept with a faint hope that ‘maybe he would pull it off’. But sadly for me and millions of fans like me it was indeed a sad moment. Yes we are sad to see Andre go out on a losing note, but at the same time salute the grand man on his chivalry. He was brave enough to stifle the choking emotions and say all those kind words to his fans.
It may sound strange about all this praise coming from a land and from an Indian sitting half way across the world. But like every American, we Indians and also the other millions all over the globe simply love him, for not only the game he played, but also the legacy he is leaving behind for all tennis lovers.