Flushing, N.Y. – Like Santiago, the Cuban fishing relic, he is worn and tired and hurting, and he has drawn up against many obstacles since he was 15, and there are not many more adventures outstanding. His face possesses the lines and his body the signs of aging, but his mind, his eyes and his game are forever young.
Andre Agassi is the old man of the courts.
For the second time in 60 hours Agassi willed his way through five anguishing sets and past a stubborn, spirited youth bent on ending his unlikely run in New York and his improbable career everywhere.
The 35-year-old ex-rebel with a cause has become the oldest man in 31 years to reach the final of the United States Open. “I don’t know how I’m going out,” Agassi said Saturday evening. How about a happy ending? We need a feel-good story now, and Agassi is that.
On Sept. 11, a day that lives in infamy, a favorite son of New York will try to beat the greatest player in the world, Roger Federer, for his greatest triumph.
Think about Jack Nicklaus winning the Masters in 1986, Babe Ruth hitting his final three home runs in a game at Forbes Field in 1935 and John Elway helicoptering in the Super Bowl in 1998.
As a mammoth cloud obstructed the intense sunlight at Arthur Ashe Stadium on Saturday afternoon, on one side at the baseline stood Robby Ginepri, the 22-year-old American who grew up idolizing Agassi and currently was tied with him at two sets apiece. On the other side stood the old man who approached his 20th Open as if it were his final and was playing as if nothing short of the final would be acceptable.
Against James Blake in a quarterfinal Wednesday night (that would endure into Thursday morning), Agassi barely survived. Now he was attempting to be a survivor once more.
The sets had gone 3-6, 3-6, 6-3, 6-3, 7-6 (8-6) against Blake and 6-4, 5-7, 6-4 and 4-6 against Ginepri – 46 up, 45 down. How much closer?
The crowd of 23,582 shoehorned into the stadium at the National Tennis Center was respectful to Ginepri, but there was no doubting who was favored. This championship may be won by another, but this tournament belongs to Agassi.
He was once the wild-haired, untamed tennis prodigy. When Agassi was a baby his dad stuck a tennis ball over his crib so his eyes would focus on the future. Mutt Mantle put a baseball in son Mickey’s crib.
Ginepri is of this hip-hop generation, bow-legged and sun-tanned, baseball cap turned back and shorts down to his knees below a sleeveless aqua shirt. Agassi is all retro, short shorts, white shirt and white cap covering a bald head.
It was so obvious Saturday afternoon during the first four sets that Ginepri had the power and the talent and the extraordinary speed and the youthful exuberance. He had never gotten to the semifinals of a Grand Slam event, but he is ready, and he will be Agassi’s mate in the next Davis Cup. He is unseeded and ranked 46th in the world, but Ginepri has a strut and a self-confidence and a self-reliance that will serve him well and serve others ill.
But Ginepri didn’t get it. Agassi chased him all over the court, forcing his double-fisted backhand, nudging drop shots, sending him deep to there, deeper over here. Ginepri was working hard in the heat, Agassi was declining to overextend himself when it was unnecessary.
Agassi had the mind game. He knew when and how. So much fun to watch, chess to chest.
The match before, Agassi was Santiago, matched against the marlin. After winning eight majors and two U.S. Opens (1994 and 1999), there are no big fish left to catch. But Agassi goes on.
He lost in the first round of the French Open this year, but the wonder was that he could walk. The sciatic nerve fires at Agassi. He took a cortisone shot, but he couldn’t play at Wimbledon. He took another cortisone shot. Two are supposed to be the maximum. He took two more, and he lives with the pain in his back. “The nerve is a sensitive issue,” he says.
The presence of Agassi, seeded seventh at the U.S. Open, was intended to be mostly ceremonial. One and done or two and out.
But he was in the semifinals Saturday, center court, center of attention.
Agassi broke serve, and maybe it would be easy. But Ginepri came back to win the second set. He was pushing Agassi but couldn’t get his first serve in regularly, and his second serve was registering 97 too regularly.
Agassi was hot, and Ginepri lost his cool as the calls and the sun bore in on him. The two stayed the baseline and stayed the course, groundstroking and anticipating and waiting. (There would be 75 aces at the Open for Ginepri, 70 so far for Agassi.)
Ginepri the Younger owned the fourth set, and it seemed Agassi the Elder might fatigue. He was wearing down, if not out.
But it was the younger who wilted in the last set. Agassi broke for a 4-2 lead, held serve and ended the match, which lasted just less than three hours, with his 17th ace.
Agassi said he couldn’t find the words to describe what is happening at the Open. Then he discovered an entire sentence. “These are some of the greatest memories I’ve ever had on the court.”
The old man ruled for another day. There is still order on the court for Andre Agassi.
Woody Paige’s column appears in The Post on Sundays. He can be seen weekdays on ESPN, ESPN2 and ESPNews on “Around The Horn,” “Cold Pizza” and “1st And 10.” He can be e-mailed at wpaige@denverpost.
