When Heroes Fall

OK, it was bad enough when Andre Agassi admitted that he used crystal meth. I was incredibly disappointed. He was one of the reasons I started watching tennis all those many years ago. I remember the controversy with Wimbledon the first year he played in the 80s and their all-white apparel policy. It was pretty much understood that Andre didn't even own anything white, much less wear it on the tennis court. He was known at that time for playing in bright colors, denim shorts and nothing remotely conventional.

He walked out on the court that day in a long, white, bathrobe-type garment and all white underneath. I can still see him.

He conformed.

So, his image is tarnished now - you remember the Canon commercials he did, Image Is Everything - but I didn't think it could get worse.

Then I read an excerpt from his new book - the autobiography that started it all.

That hair that I loved so much, that long blond spiked mullet that I truly crushed on as a young adult was nothing but a weave.

Fake.

Devastating.

Billy and I had long suspected the Hair Club for Men. When Andre did finally shave his head (strongly resembling the Mr. Clean genie) the hairline made it obvious that his hair had been receding, but I honestly never thought that a hairpiece was involved.

I mean seriously - he was only in his late twenties/early thirties.

Why did he have to tell?

What purpose was served?

This is something I've never understood. Why people, especially those in the public eye, feel the need to open up and spill their deepest and darkest secrets.

I remember a discussion I participated in one time, although I don't remember the context, and the topic was why a person will share information that only ends up hurting someone else. Like an affair. Why tell your spouse you've been having an affair if you've truly ended it and felt remorse and so forth? The only thing that comes from a confession is that the other party ends up feeling horrible.

And they did nothing about which to feel horrible.

They say confession is good for the soul, but I think the soul is the other thing that benefits. Rarely does any good come from laying everything out on the table.

I tried to put a more positive spin on the drug use - it wasn't a performance-enhancing drug. If fact, quite the opposite. He fell to 141st in the rankings and had to start playing qualifying tournaments. He didn't use regularly or for very long, only about a year.

But he lied when caught. I wish that he would have "manned up" and taken his suspension at the time and then put it behind him. Yes, he lied to the officials but he did actually take the right steps, stopped using, and made his way back up to a champion.

But it still hurts.

Of course, this isn't the first time that one of my heroes has disappointed me. Some of the people that I've loved and cared about the most in my life have let me down.

Not being perfect, I know that I've disappointed a lot of people myself. And I'm far from being anyone's "hero".

I do try, though, to go back and remember what it was that I first admired. It takes time, but I try. Andre has done wonderful charity work in Las Vegas with children and he honestly loved all the fans and tried his utmost out on the court - even though in the book he says he hates tennis. You never knew it to watch him play. He made tennis come to life for me and I loved, loved, loved watching him play.

I guess that is the hardest thing to do. To see past the disappointment. To not let the hurt overshadow the good that you've known for so long. That is particularly hard with those we love the most. We sometimes hold our loved ones up so high, on a pedestal taller than the tallest building, that when they fall in our eyes, they fall long and hard. I'm still trying to work past a few.

Which circles me back to my earlier question. If given the opportunity to confess to something we've done, should we? Is it fair to unburden our soul only to place that burden of knowledge on another's shoulders? What purpose is served? Wouldn't we be better people if we somehow dealt with our demons privately?

I guess there just seems to be so much out there right now - David Letterman and his affairs with his staff workers, Makenzie Phillips and the unspeakable things that happened with her father, and so on. Not that either of those two are heroes to me, but still.....

Some things are just better left unsaid.

I mean, I could have died happy some day not ever knowing about the hair.