For Andre Agassi, Truth Is Everything

So what do people want from their heroes, anyway: after-the-fact transparency or the perpetuation of fraud? Here we are, still wading through the slime of the Steroids Era, rightfully crucifying juicers for trying to hide behind walls of deceit. And yet, some of the same critics are pummeling Andre Agassi for volunteering 12 years after his sin -- when it would have been far more convenient to keep living the lie -- that he failed a drug test and deceived the ATP by writing a letter claiming he "unwittingly'' used crystal meth.

The admission, in an autobiography called Open,' is crippling to Agassi's reputation as one of sport's good guys. By outing himself, he hurts his family, his numerous charitable causes, his credibility and the image we have of his complete body of work, not good when one of his defining ad campaigns once had him declaring, "Image is everything.'' Knowing the damage that was forthcoming, he came clean nonetheless about his recreational drug problem, unlike the high-profile baseball stars whose performance-enhancing crimes have been revealed in investigations and exposés.

Harsh as the truth is in this case, though, I'd rather be aware of it than be forever bamboozled. Assuming Agassi can live with the fallout, which appears substantial and already includes a plea by the World Anti-Doping Agency for tennis to investigate him for perjury, then we should appreciate his candor -- if not his manipulative ways in cheating the system in 1997, when he was depressed and dropped to 141st in the world before his redemptive rise to legendhood.

"I had way more to lose by telling this story in its full transparency than I had to gain," Agassi told CBS' Katie Couric in a 60 Minutes' interview Sunday night. "The part that I worry and think more about is who this may help.

"It's what you don't want to hear [from him], but I would hope along with that would come some compassion that maybe this person doesn't need condemnation. Maybe this person could stand a little help. Because that was at a time in my life when I needed help. I had a problem, and there might be many other athletes out there that test positive for recreational drugs that have a problem. So I would ask for some compassion."
To this day, Andre Agassi is among the most compelling, thoughtful, electrifying and mesmerizing athletes of our time ... He had plenty to hide, yet he chose to reveal it. It's called full disclosure.

I am not nominating Agassi for sainthood. Actually, I'm disturbed he would allow his crystal meth use to grow so out of control that he'd contrive a cover-up, claiming he accidentally drank a soft drink spiked with meth by his assistant, "Slim.'' As I once wrote of Michael Jordan, who used to gamble with a North Carolina buddy named Slim Bouler, never trust anyone named Slim. This makes me wonder just how much of the Agassi experience, enjoyed and revered by legions of tennis fans, was fueled by being high. Can I believe he only used meth for a year when he speaks of it in such glowing terms? "[It brings] a tidal wave of euphoria that sweeps away every negative thought in my head.

"I've never felt so alive, so hopeful -- and I've never felt such energy,'' he writes in the book, noting how the drug propelled him into frenzied house-cleaning sessions. Wasn't the appeal of Agassi rooted in his energy, his never-say-die hope?

At worst, he sat down and wrote a letter of blatant falsehoods that manipulated the system and allowed him to avoid a suspension. In the context of what he accomplished from 1998 to his 2006 retirement -- five of his eight Grand Slam titles, including the career Slam; the bulk of his $31 million in career prize money; his marriage to Steffi Graf, with whom he has two kids; an extraordinary embrace of charity work -- it would be easy to bury his past as a footnote. Don't make the mistake of doing that. His drug issues are now part of the entire Agassi story, redemptive and troubling all at once. Before this, he was one of the most beloved athletes in sports, a man who elicited unprecedented levels of adoration at the U.S. Open. Clearly, he has thrown a knuckleball into the love affair that shocked even his most passionate fans.

But I do believe him when he says he wants to help people. The knee-jerk reaction that he's trying to sell books after receiving a $5 million advance -- please, stop it, because Agassi doesn't need the money. Of all people to accuse him of hustling a book, imagine Dick Vitale ripping him on a Twitter post. "Isn't it sad that celebs like Agassi and Hulk Hogan will write anything to sell books. How pathetic!'' wrote Dickie V, who has been accused of the same thing. In truth, Agassi always has opened his heart to the world, and as he reflects on his career, he felt that heart had some explaining to do.

It's called cleansing the soul, which beats hiding the truth every time. "Apart from the buzz of getting high," he wrote, "I get an undeniable satisfaction from harming myself and shortening my career. But the physical aftermath is hideous. After two days of being high, of not sleeping, I'm an alien. I have the audacity to wonder why I feel so rotten. I'm an athlete, my body should be able to handle this.''

When a sports celebrity writes a book, it's too often filled with self-serving pap intended to enhance an image. Agassi's book brought him down, something I've rarely seen in sports publishing. He wants us to feel compassion for his previous troubles, which seems a fair request. Substance abuse is not cheating in the same vein as steroids use. Early in his career, he was a young man finding his way through depression and stardom. His story sounds familiar to that of Jennifer Capriati, who rose to prominence in his early teens before turning to drugs. During her rousing comeback, we cheered for her. Didn't Agassi follow a similar career path? I suppose we could criticize him for not coming out earlier, when he was still active as a player and wasn't selling a book. But that's what memoirs are -- telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "If you're going to tell your story, you owe it to yourself to tell it honestly," Agassi said.

"Especially if you're going to call it 'Open.' ''

As indicting as anything he wrote about himself was the way he hung out the ATP. Why did an anti-doping tribunal believe his concocted story so readily? Shouldn't his letter immediately have raised eyebrows and prompted a full-blown investigation of Agassi and this Slim character? Since then, drug testing in tennis is handled and administered by an independent firm. But at the time, tennis had its share of recreational drug use, and we're left to wonder how many others were exonerated without even a blink.

He leaves little to the imagination about his punk days, when he wore denim shorts, earrings and long stringy hair. Proving he's comfortable in his skin, Agassi reveals that his mullet actually was a wig -- and that he needed bobby pins to make sure the weave didn't fall off during play at the 1990 French Open. "Of course I could play without my hairpiece. But after months of derision, criticism, mockery, I'm too self-conscious," he writes in the book.

"Image Is Everything? What would they say if they knew? Win or lose, they wouldn't talk about my game. They'd only talk about my hair. I can close my eyes and almost hear it. And I know I can't take it."

He also doesn't hesitate to tell stories about the women in his life. When he and Brooke Shields were preparing for their wedding, the supermodel hung a picture of Graf on their refrigerator as inspiration to get in better shape. "It's a photo of the perfect woman, she says," writes Agassi. "The perfect woman with the perfect legs -- the legs Brooke wants." Who knew, after his divorce from Shields, that he would marry Graf, one of the greatest women players ever?

To this day, Andre Agassi is among the most compelling, thoughtful, electrifying and mesmerizing athletes of our time. He always has dripped sweat and blood all over the tennis court, and now, he's doing it on the pages of an autobiography. He had plenty to hide, yet he chose to reveal it. It's called full disclosure.

I would have expected nothing less from him.